#Coursework Help London

[agreeewrites]

Freefall | D.M. & H.P

feat Draco Malfoy x roommate!reader x Harry Potter

SUMMARY: Secrets can only stay buried for so long in a cramped London flat. When the truth finally comes out, your relationship with your flatmates, Harry and Draco, will never be the same.

CW: MDNI 18+, college roommates!au, smut, mfm, slight angst, pining!drarry, going from friends/roommates to friends with benefits, dom!draco and switch!harry

AN: much more to come! I wouldn't call this a series, more like a collection of fics/drabbles/headcanons. my asks are open if there's anything you'd like to see!

masterlist

“Here, taste this,” Harry said, approaching the kitchen island where you were combing through your coursework, spoon covered in sauce held aloft.

You opened your mouth, not looking up from the passage on the Demiguise.

Harry chuckled, feeding you the bit of sauce. You smacked your lips, tasting the marinara Harry's made one hundred times. “Needs a bit more garlic,” you said. “But otherwise perfect.”

“You always say that,” Harry teased, rolling his eyes as he turned back to his sauce. There was something so warm about Harry, so safe, with his fluffy black hair and broad shoulders, his easy smile and quick wit.

“It's always true,” you argued, taking a sip of your wine to hide your smile.

Music from one of his muggle records filled the air, something acoustic and folksy that added to the peaceful vibe of the flat, carefully curated by yourself and your other roommate, Draco. The two of them needed a sanctuary after every they endured, and your shared flat became exactly that. A safe harbor from the chaotic world.

“Need a refill?” Harry asked, glancing at your almost empty glass, always trying to take be helpful.

“Trying to get me drunk, Potter?”

“Are we drinking?” Draco strode out from his room, his platinum hair still damp from the shower, dressed in a Slytherin crew neck and sweatpants. Your mouth went a little dry at the sight of him, the clean smell lingering on his skin, and you swallowed the rest of your wine.

“Someone is,” Harry chuckled, flashing you a cheeky smile.

Draco entered the kitchen, moving around Harry to grab a wine glass from a tall cabinet, his shirt riding up a bit to reveal the smooth skin of his lower abdomen.

“Ow! Fucker,” Harry hissed, shaking out his hand. “Damn stove.”

Draco snickered, pouring himself a generous glass of wine and topping up yours. “Distracted, Potter?” he teased, and a a flush crawled up Harry’s neck.

“Leave him alone,” you chastised, beckoning the spectacled boy towards you with a crooked finger. “Or else he’ll stop cooking for us.”

“Maybe for Malfoy,” Harry grumbled, placing his hand in your outstretched palm.

“Well, can’t have that. I’d starve to death.” Draco smirked, leaning against the counter and taking a sip of wine.

“Episkey,” you cast, healing the burn on Harry’s finger with a swipe of your thumb. “There we go,” you hummed, grinning at him.

“T-thanks,” he said, adjusting his glasses.

“How convenient, having our own pretty nurse at home,” Draco said, winking at you when you flipped him off.

Harry playfully checked Draco’s shoulder when he returned to the kitchen, and Draco muttered something in Harry’s ear, making him roll his eyes with a coy half-smile. They dove into conversation about their shared Auror classes, drastically different than your own courses for your Magical Creatures degree.

You turned back to your work, trying to tune them out and ignoring the increasingly familiar feeling of otherness that trickled in. Harry and Draco had a past that was inextricably entwined, two sides of the same coin, and their bond often left you feeling like a third-wheel in your own flat. Usually it didn't bother you, but the feelings had grown stronger and stronger over the last few weeks, creeping into almost every interaction with them and sucking the joy out of it. Tonight, it sat like a stone in your stomach.

You missed them, even though they were only a few feet away from you and you occupied the same 900 square foot space.

After a few minutes, Draco sidled up next you, leaning over your shoulder to read your notes. “Still studying, love?” He asked, close enough that his breath ghosted over your ear.

You suppressed a shiver. Draco loved nothing more than to get a rise out of you and Harry, and you weren’t in the mood to stroke his ego.

“Yes, I am,” you replied, voice more clipped than you intended, and you caught him and Harry share a look over you head, fueling your irritation.

Draco didn’t push, retreating back to his place in the kitchen. He and Harry continued to mutter to one another and exchange meaningful looks while Harry finished up dinner, acting as if you weren’t there at all.

Sometimes, if felt like they could read each other's minds, shared a connection deeper than words. Like two great trees with tangled roots, communicating in a language only the two of them understood.

Just when you were about to gather your things and hole up in your room for the night to wallow in self-pity, Harry set a plate under your nose, piled high with pasta.

“Added extra garlic for you,” he murmured, giving you a soft smile, and some of your irritation unwound.

“Thanks,” you said, a bit sheepish about your attitude.

“Course, can’t let you go hungry,” he teased, turning back to make his own plate.

Your heart gave a weak trill, but you quickly squashed it down. You were being silly, you all were just friends, roommates. They didn’t owe you anything, least of all a place in their hard-earned inner circle.

Their lives were full, and there wasn’t room for you.

After dinner, you retreated to your room to shower, trying to pull yourself together. They had enough going on in their lives; the last thing they needed was your drama on top of everything else.

But no matter what you told yourself, the feeling lingered, sour on your stomach and bitter on your tongue.

Hair towel dried and dressed in a PJ set, you ventured back out into the living room. It was empty, but the large window leading to the fire escape was cracked open, low, masculine voices floating on the air.

You debated making yourself a cup of tea and leaving them to it, but your curiosity won out. You wrapped a blanket around your shoulders and lifted the window, stepping out onto the small balcony.

Harry was leaned against the railing, hands stuffed in his hoodie, and Draco was perched on the iron steps leading to the next floor, a cigarette hanging from his lips.

To your surprise, the air was thick with tension, heavy like an incoming storm. Draco's shoulders were up to his ears, the smoke from his cigarette hanging like smog in the London streetlights.

Was it because of you?

Harry moved to help you down, his hand steady and strong in yours, and closed the window behind you. “It's cold out here,” he cautioned, noting your still damp hair. “Is that blanket warm enough?”

You nodded, giving him a small smile of thanks. “Am I, uh, interrupting?” You asked, looking up at Draco. He looked so handsome in the low light, shadows sharpening his jaw, the cherry of the cigarette making his light eyes glow.

He shook his head, taking another drag.

“Course not.” Harry rubbed a hand on the back of his neck, leaning against the railing once again. He wasn't nearly as good of a liar as Draco.

“What were you talking about?” You asked, trying to sound casual.

“Just school stuff—”

“Nothing—”

They spoke at the same time, interrupting each other, then fell quiet again.

“Uh-huh,” you crossed your arms over your chest. “Don't stop on my account,” you said, sitting on the window sill and pulling the blanket tighter around your shoulders.

But, as you suspected, they stayed mum, exchanging a glance you couldn't decipher.

You wish it didn't, but it made you feel so alone, so…jealous. You craved their closeness more than anything.

“If you tell me what's going on, maybe I could help,” you offered.

Harry’s eyes softened. “Everything's okay. Please don't worry about us.”

“Of course I'm going to worry about you,” you countered, the edge of your voice betraying the hurt feelings you were trying to shove down.

Harry frowned, concern drawing his dark brows together. “I know, but…”

Draco stubbed his cigarette on the steps. “Come here,” he said, extending a hand to you.

Harry's eyes widened in surprise.

Uncertainty made your heart beat quicken, but you placed your fingers in Draco’s palm. He drew you up and between his knees on the steps, guiding your hand to wrap around his middle. The warmth of his body overruled your hesitation, and you leaned into his chest, head resting on his shoulder.

He smelled like smoke and his amber body wash, and something new fluttered to life in your belly.

“Potter’s right,” Draco murmured, his voice resonant in his chest. “You shouldn't worry about us.”

You didn't reply, unable to articulate why ‘us’ bothered you so much. Just another reminder that there was them, and then there was you.

You glanced up at Draco, finding his eyes not trained on you, but on Harry, molten like fired glass, and your hurt deepened. You tried to pull away, but Draco locked an arm around your shoulders, his gaze flicking down to yours.

You turned away, averting your eyes.

“Please don't be upset,” Harry said, a twinge of worry in his voice. “We just don't want you too—”

“We're trying to protect you,” Draco said.

You pulled back, and Draco let you, though he didn't let you step out from between his long legs. “Protect me from what? Memories?” You asked, looking to Harry.

“Memories are powerful,” he said. “They're a burden. We’re a burden, and we don't want to put that on you.”

You stared at him. “A burden?” You hissed, pulling away from Draco fully to face Harry. “How could you think that?”

Harry couldn't look at you, his eyes on the ground. “We said we would never make your life harder, pile our shit onto your shoulders after you were kind enough to open your home,” he muttered. “You don't deserve that.”

“That’s what friends do,” you said, throat thick with frustrated tears. “I thought we were friends.”

Harry's head snapped up, pain evident in his eyes. “We are friends,” he insisted, pushing off the railing to approach you. “That's why we—”

“We,” you scoffed. “You don't get it, Harry.” You turned away from him, only to bump directly into Draco's chest, his expression hard.

“You really want to know what we were talking about?” He asked, jaw feathering with tension.

“That's not—”

“It is, though. Isn't it? You're feeling left out.”

You flushed, turning away from his too-perceptive gaze, but he caught your chin with his hand, forcing you look up at him.

“Malfoy,” Harry warned.

“No, if she wants the truth, she'll have it.” Draco shot Harry a look, and the other boy made a strangled sound in the back of his throat. Draco looked back at you, a reckless sort of intensity in his eyes. “Potter here was telling me about how he asked you to taste the sauce just so he could feed it to you. It's why he made it in the first place.”

“Draco,” Harry snapped, and your eyes widened in shock.

“And then I told him that I liked your new body wash—coconut or something? And that I wondered what it tasted like on your skin.” He backed you against the brick wall, his body warm and solid against yours. Your heart was beating so loud, you almost couldn't hear him. “That the reason I came out here was because the fucking smell of you, hot and wet and naked in the shower, was driving me mad, and I was this close to charging into that bathroom and eating you for dessert.”

You were stunned silent, staring up at him in complete and utter disbelief. He wanted you? They both wanted you?

“Draco, I—”

“You wanted to know the big fucking secret, darling. That's it. We're both completely and utterly obsessed with you, sick with it.” His breath was hot against your cheek, the rumble of his voice swirling around the shell of your ear and making you shiver, that flutter you felt earlier building to a twister of want, the clarity sudden and striking.

You were jealous and hurting because you wanted them.

“We haven’t said anything because—because we don't want to ruin the one friendship we have that isn't rooted in our past,” Harry added, wringing his hands together. “We don't want to lose you, or make you uncomfortable.”

Draco moved to step back, uncertainty creeping into his expression, and a bolt of fear pierced your heart. No, no, no. You grabbed him without thinking, letting your blanket fall to the ground

“You couldn't lose me,” you admitted. “I want you both too.”

“You want us too?” Draco asked, skeptical eyes searching your face.

“Please,” you whispered.

He immediately folded, crushing you back against the wall, and crashed his mouth to your in a rough, desperate kiss. He groaned low in his throat, the sound turning your core to liquid, and drove his tongue into your mouth, swiftly taking control of the kiss. You were putty in his hands, flayed open for him to claim, to ravage with tongue and teeth. It felt like you were flying. Like he'd picked you up and dropped you over the edge of the roof. Plummeting. Freefall.

“Fuck, you taste so sweet,” he rasped, kissing down your jaw and lapping at the place where your pulse surged under your skin. In a quick movement, Draco spun your around, his back to the wall with your back pressed to his front, his arms bracketed around your middle.

Harry was standing there, eyes wide and cheeks pink, his grip tight on the railing behind him.

“Harry,” you whined, voice pitching higher when Draco's mouth found the sweet spot under your ear.

“I—”

“Bloody hell, Potter. Fucking kiss her.” Draco ordered, and Harry surged forward like he was waiting for permission. His hands reached up to cradle your face as his lips connected with yours. Harry's kiss was softer, more timid than Draco's. A question, rather than a command.

Your hands fisted in his hoodie, drawing him closer as you licked along the seam of his lips, tasting wine and his honey lip balm as he parted for you, gliding his tongue along yours.

“Fucking finally,” Draco purred, his hand sliding under your shirt to splay across your stomach, pressing you tighter against him. “How's she taste, Potter?” He asked, his other hand coming up to rest against your throat.

“Like heaven,” Harry murmured, breath hitching when you nipped at his lower lip. He pressed himself harder against you, squishing you between their bodies, and you gasped, hands flying up to tangle in Harry’s unruly hair.

Harry grew a bit bolder, licking into your mouth with hungry strokes. Your hips canted forward, your pussy practically begging for attention, and you felt Harry's erection press against your hip, throbbing beneath his pajama pants.

“What a good girl,” Draco cooed, his hand sneaking higher to cup your breast, his thumb grazing your taught nipple. You moaned into Harry's mouth, arching your spine to press your chest into Draco's palm. “Being so sweet for us.” Draco tightened his hand around your throat, grinding his erection into your ass.

Harry's hands wandered south, pawing at your curves over your pajamas until he gripped your ass, rocking your more intentionally against him and Draco.

Draco hissed through his teeth when Harry's hand grazed his cock. You thought maybe it was an accident until you felt Harry smile, the slightest quirk of his mouth, as he brushed Draco's cock again.

“Inside, now,” Draco rumbled, shifting off the wall and send you and Harry stumbling forward.

Harry steadied you, a hand on your hip. “Is that what you want?” He asked, searching your face.

“Yes.” You nodded, tugging him in by the hoodie strings for a quick peck. “I want you,” you murmured against his lips, and he grinned.

“Come on, then,” Draco called, already inside, a hand extended to you. You took it and he hauled you inside, placing a hand over the bottom of the open window so you didn't hit your head in your haste. Harry clamored in right behind you, shutting and locking the window while Draco guided you to sit down on the couch, his lips on yours again.

Harry sat on the other side of you, shirking his hoodie. Draco leaned you back to drape across Harry's thighs, pushing up your shirt to kiss across your hips. Harry tugged the shirt over your head, exposing your chest to them.

“So pretty, sweetheart,” Harry murmured, his fingertips grazing over your ribcage, the other draped over the back of the couch. You felt like you were burning, desire spreading under your skin like a brush fire.

“Lift your hips for me, love,” Draco said, looking up at your through blond lashes. You obeyed, leaning more of your weight onto Harry, and Draco hooked his fingers into your waist band, sliding down your pants and panties in one go.

It struck you how normal this all felt. How comfortable and right.

Draco spread your legs, fingertips dimpling into your tender skin. His lips connected with your inner thigh, feather light and teasing as he trailed closer towards your dripping pussy.

Harry's hand cupped your tits, pinching and rolling your nipples lightly, just enough pressure to make you squirm, head falling back onto the couch. His eyes bounced around your body, like he couldn't decide where to focus his attention.

“Merlin, please,” you whined when Draco kissed just north of your clit, smirking against your skin.

“Please what, baby?” Draco asked, resting his cheek on your thigh.

“Please touch me.” You tangled your fingers into Draco's hair, nudging him closer to your core. “Please.”

Harry groaned above you, his cock kicking against your shoulder. But he continued his leisurely ministrations, following Draco's lead. Their easy, instinctual dynamic made your head a little fuzzy, your pussy ache.

Draco hummed, gliding his thumb over your slit, collecting the honey waiting for him. You moaned, hips chasing Draco's touch, but it was gone as quickly as it came.

Holding your gaze, he swiped his tongue over his thumb, tasting you. You loosed an aggravated huff, squirming between them.

Harry shushed you, petting your head like you were an unruly kitten. “Stop torturing her, D,” Harry said, glaring down at the blond.

Draco tsked. “But don't you want a taste?” He asked, dragging two fingers through you before lifting them to Harry's mouth.

Harry’s eyes widened, going a bit glassy, and he nodded. Draco smirked triumphantly and fed his fingers between the other boys lips. Harry moaned, his eyes fluttering closed as he sucked your slick off Draco's long fingers, his tongue twining around his knuckles.

You whimpered, thighs clenching around Draco.

“Can you blame me for wanting to savor this?” Draco murmured, slipping his fingers from Harry’s mouth and bringing them back between your legs. He eased his middle finger inside of you, pumping slowly and watching your face crumble in pleasure, a broken moans spilling from your lips.

Harry placed a hand behind your head, lifting your face to his for an eager kiss. You could taste yourself on his tongue, heady and sweet, and you tangled your fingers into his hair, drawing him closer, kissing him harder.

Draco added another finger, scissoring you open and massaging your gummy walls with precision. His lips found your clit, nursing gently, and pleasure bloomed through you, a burgeoning glow in your belly. You gasped into Harry's mouth when he tweaked your nipples again, tugging his hair hard enough to make him whimper.

Draco kissed up your body, his fingers still fucking into you, and dragged his tongue along your cheek, a silent question. You turned your head to kiss him, his nose and chin covered in your slick. Harry nosed closer, licking at the mess along Draco's chin, and he turned, catching Harry's lips in a sloppy, almost competitive dueling of tongues. Harry groaned when you licked and kissed down his neck, Draco's fingers still coaxing soft moans from your lips.

You grabbed at the hem of Draco's shirt, struggling to pull it off in the tangle of limbs, and Draco chuckled, sitting back on his heels. He withdrew his fingers, sucking them clean before standing up to undress himself.

Harry shifted behind you, tossing his t-shirt aside. You sat up, shifting to straddle him, the only thing separating you the thin fabric of his pajama pants. You'd seen Harry shirtless countless times, his tanned skin drawn tight over lean muscles from years of Quidditch and Auror training, but having him spread out beneath you, yours to enjoy, made your cunt quiver with anticipation, your mouth fill with saliva.

Harry flushed under your gaze, averting his eyes from your openly appreciative expression. You leaned down, pressing a kiss to his cheek, in a trail towards his ear.

“You're gorgeous, Harry,” you murmured, rolling your hips over the thick bulge between his legs. He groaned, hands moving from your thighs to grip your hips.

“Isn't he?” Draco hummed, taking a swallow of wine while he watched the two of you, an almost predatory glint in his eye. “Was always jealous that I never filled out like that.” He chuckled.

“Oh, sod off,” Harry said, breathless as you slowly rocked against him. “You were always the hot one.”

“Never said I wasn't,” Draco smirked, setting the wine glass down.

Harry opened his mouth to retort, but you silenced him with a kiss, drawing his attention back to you.

His hips bucked up into you, his cock so hard it had to be painful. Desperate to be sheathed inside you. You were ravenous for him too, plagued by the absence left by Draco's fingers. The grinding grew more intense as your need mounted, rough and sloppy in a way that had the two of you whining into the kiss, waiting for…something.

Draco leaned on the back of the couch behind Harry, smoothing your hair from your face. “You look unbelievable right now, darling,” he murmured. “So perfect for us. Right, Potter?”

Harry nodded, his face buried into the crook of your neck, calloused hands like a vice on your hips.

“You want to fuck her, Harry?” Draco combed his fingers through Harry's dark waves, tugging his head back against the couch.

“Merlin, yes. Want to fuck you so bad, love,” he panted up at you, glasses fogging from the heat of his body.

“Yes, please, Harry. Need you,” you moaned, your swollen clit dragging against his cock in a way that made you see stars.

“Go on, then. What are you waiting for?” Draco purred, knowing damn well you were waiting for his permission, even if you didn't quite know why.

Both you and Harry were too far gone to respond to his teasing. Harry wrapped an arm around your waist, lifting you up so he could free himself from his bottoms. You couldn't see what he was packing from your position, but when the head nudged your entrance, it felt like a fist prodding at you.

“Holy fuck, Harry—” you gasped, grabbing onto Draco when the head breeched your pussy, Harry grunting beneath you at the tight fit.

“Seven bloody saints, baby. S'fucking tight,” he groaned, his face buried in your tits.

“Relax, love,” Draco soothed, caressing your cheek with the backs of his fingers. “You can take it.”

“Fuck, fuck—ngh, it's too big,” you cried, even as your pussy stretched around Harry’s length, accepting him inch by torturous inch.

“It’s alright, darling. You're doing so well already.” Draco placed a tender kiss to your forehead. “Isn't she, Potter?”

“M'trying to be careful, baby but f-fuck,” Harry grated, his hips stuttering up, a flicker of pain making you whimper. “Sorry, sorry. You just feel so good.” Harry kissed up your sternum, his free hand coming up to angle your head down towards him. “Just a little more,” he murmured, your forehead resting on his. His chest rose and fell in a deep breath, and you mirrored him, breathing in tandem through the final stretch.

Your full weight settled onto his hips, his cock buried inside of you, and you both moaned as the pain morphed into pleasure, lips connecting an airy, breathless kiss.

You flexed your thighs, lifting up on Harry's cock before rolling back down, gasping into Harry's mouth at the delicious, full feeling.

“Fuck, just like that,” Harry moaned, using his grip on your hips to help you slide up and down his cock. “Merlin, you're so fucking sexy.”

Your head tipped back on your shoulders, moans spilling freely as Harry started bucking up into you, cockhead kissing your cervix with every powerful thrust and making your eyes cross. You could feel him everywhere, ecstasy humming along your nerves and sweetening your blood, the sound of your sopping pussy squelching around him wonderfully lewd.

Lost in Harry, you hadn't noticed Draco move until you heard him moan, the sound scraping through his teeth. You glanced over, seeing him stretched out in his chair, his fist wrapped around his cock and stroking slowly, watching you and Harry through heavy-lidded eyes.

It wasn't as thick as Harry’s, but long and slightly curved, the head and angry pink and shiny with precum. Draco spit onto it, lubricating himself, and your whole body reacted to the sight, clenching hard around Harry as a fresh gush of arousal surged through you.

Harry cried out, his rhythm faltering for a moment, and Draco smirked, knowing what affect he had on you.

“Shit, m’not gonna last much longer with you squeezin’ me like that—f-fucking hell,” his voice fractured into another moan when you clenched around him again, watching Draco synchronize his hand to Harry's thrusts, keeping pace with the two of you.

Fuck, it was so hot being caught between the two of them. You were the clearly at the center of their desires, but you could tell they craved one another too, got some satisfaction out of sharing you. Whether it was for pleasure, or some twisted game between old rivals, you couldn't quite tell.

You were teetering on the edge of release, Harry's hunger coupled with Draco's restraint ratcheting you higher and higher.

“Come for me, love.” Harry grabbed you by the hair, rougher than he had been, and forced you to look at him while he pounded up into you. His eyes were lust-blown and wild, cheeks flushed and brow sweaty. “Need to make you come first. C’mon, sweetheart, please—yes, baby, just like that—fuck, fuck!”

The coil in your stomach snapped at the same moment Harry's cock kicked against your walls, the first jet of release splattering against your cervix.

“Fuck, Harry!” You cried as the orgasm tore through you, bright and blissful. You clung to him, your spasming pussy making you both gasp and whine in pleasure as he continued working you over his cock. Milking himself with your limp body until the ecstasy finally dissipated.

You both collapsed back onto the couch, chests heaving and sticky with sweat. Harry drew you in for a kiss, his lips plush and tender, and you melted into his embrace, limbs heavy and thoughts sluggish.

You felt cool fingers run down your spine, making you twitch and whimper with sensitivity.

“Not done yet, are you, sweet girl?” Draco asked, urging you to turn over onto your back with a hand on your hip.

You obliged, settling with your back pressed against Harry's chest, legs falling open as Draco kneeled onto the couch. He loomed like hunter over a fresh catch, eyes shaded with desire, cock standing proud between his legs.

His fingers glided between your slit, collecting yours and Harry's combined released and pushing it back inside of you, pumping his fingers slowly into your messy entrance.

You mewled, head falling back onto Harry's shoulder as pleasure warred with overstimulation, the muscles in your legs trembling as your hips rocked into his palm.

“Shit, Draco,” Harry said, breathless as he watched Draco toy with you. “So fucking hot.”

Draco smiled, withdrawing his fingers and bringing them to his cock, smearing the mix of fluids over his shaft. “I'll corrupt you yet, Potter,” he teased, then looked down at you, eyes burning. “Come here, darling.”

You instantly sat up and leaned towards him, drawn like a magnet. Helpless to disobey. His fingers carded through your hair and fisting at the base of your scalp.

“Show me that pretty little tongue,” he ordered, grabbing the base of his cock and causing it swell even larger.

Your mouth fell open, tongue lolling out, and you heard Harry curse behind you, getting a clear view from the mirror against the wall.

“Such a good slut for us, hm?” Draco traced the edge of your lips with his cockhead, smearing release across your mouth, taunting you. “One cock isn't enough for you?”

You shook your head, batting your lashes up at him, wanting to give them both a show. To please them.

“Salazar’s sakes, love. Better stop looking at me like that, or I just might run out of patience,” Draco warned, tapping your tongue with his cock.

“I think she might like that,” Harry chuckled, kissing along the curve of your shoulder.

“I think you might be right, Potter.” Draco dragged you forward, driving halfway into your mouth.

You fastened your lips around him, hollowing your cheeks while you lapped at his velveteen skin. You could taste yourself, and what must be a mix of the two of them, and your eyes rolled back into your head, a pulse of arousal making your pussy clench and drip.

Draco cursed under his breath, moving you up and down his length by your hair, watching with rapt attention as you drooled and slurped around him, going completely brainless on his cock.

“Fuck, that feels so good. If your cunt feels half as good as your mouth—shit,” Draco moaned, holding you still so he could thrust into your throat, just hard enough to make tears spring in your eyes.

“Better, I’d wager,” Harry said, reaching around to grope your tits, making you moan around Draco's cock. “Wraps around ‘ya like a glove.”

Draco grunted, suddenly pulling you off of him. He crashed his mouth to yours with nearly as much fervor as the first kiss on the balcony, all tongue and teeth . He eased you back onto Harry's chest, using his other hand to line himself up with your center.

In one thrust, he bottomed out inside you, Harry's efforts ensuring your were pliable and ready.

“Fuuuuck,” Draco moaned, his head falling onto Harry's shoulder. “So fucking ready for me, baby. Weren't you?”

You nodded, crying out when he withdrew then slammed back into you, nails raking down his back at the intensity.

“That's it—good girl, such a good little slut f’me.” He wasted no time setting a brutal pace, fucking you hard into Harry while you screamed beneath him, lost in the dizzying, brutal pleasure. Draco fucked you out of your mind while Harry kept your body rooted in place. Murmuring sweet praise in your ear, coddling you like an angel, while Draco fucked you like you were anything but.

Harry's hand slid down between your legs, quick fingers working your puffy clit. “Doing so well, lovey. He's not being too rough, is he?”

You shook your head, nails digging into Harry's veiny forearm. “N-no—feels good.”

“Merlin, this cunt is a dream,” Draco growled against your ear, nipping at your skin when you fluttered around him, his words drawing a visceral reaction from your body. “Ours, now, yeah? Potter and I’s pretty cunt?”

“Yes, yes! Fuck, Draco—m’gonna come.” You clung desperately to them, trying to find purchase in the raging storm of pleasure, but it was quickly sweeping you away, dragging you under.

“That's it, give it to me—fuck!” Draco cried out, bottoming out inside of you when his release slammed into him, the heavy kick of his cock sending you over the edge. You came hard, feeling yourself bear down on him to an almost painful degree as you entire body locked up, vision swimming from the tears pooling on your eyes.

Harry shushed you, pressing kisses into your hair. “You can take it,” he murmured. “We've got you.”

“Fucking hell, love,” Draco panted, rocking his hips into you as you rode out the waves of pleasure, the weight of their bodies keeping you from squirming away when overstimulation kicked in.

“Draco—fuck, ah, too much,” you whimpered.

“Sorry, baby,” he cooed, catching your lips in an apologetic kiss. “Could stay wrapped in your forever,” he murmured against your lips, and you felt your heart flip, heat spreading in your cheeks. Draco stole a final thrust before slumping back onto the other end of the couch, chest heaving, softening cock glistening with your combined release.

If you weren't wrung out like a sponge, you'd clean him up with your tongue.

Harry slipped out from behind you, grabbing his wand from the table to magically clean the three of you up and put his pants back on. “Are you alright, love?” He asked, draping a blanket over your shoulders and sitting beside you, suddenly sheepish again.

“I'm exhausted,” you replied with a breathy chuckle. “Good exhausted.” You amended when concern flickered across his face. “Are you okay?”

“I'm good.” He glanced over at Draco, still prone with his eyes closed. “I think you may have killed him.”

Draco lifted an arm, flipping Harry off, and you giggled. He sat up, not making any move to cover himself. “We should set some ground rules.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Would it kill you to relax for a second?”

“It's for her benefit,” Draco bit. “This could get…messy.”

You nodded in agreement, a tendril of worry curling around your spine. Draco was notorious for one night stands, was that all this was?

“It stays between us, firstly,” Draco said, and you and Harry nodded in agreement. “Potter and I living together kept the Daily Prophet open for weeks. A sex scandal is the last thing we need.”

“It's a flat thing, nothing else,” you said, getting ahead of what you were sure was coming. “Roommates that fuck.” It was safer that way, less complicated.

“Flatmates with benefits,” Harry gave a wry chuckle, though it didn't meet his eyes.

“Group only, or…?” You glanced at Draco, and he looked back at Harry.

Harry shrugged. “I'm okay with splitting off now and then.”

Draco's jaw feathered, but he didn't argue.

Shit, this really could get messy. But you were too relieved to care. Now that you'd had a taste of them, there was no way you could turn back. And it seemed the men were in agreement, even if the details were a bit murky.

“So, we have a deal?” You asked.

“Deal,” they said in unison, and you shook on it, a clumsy arrangement of three hands.

Flatmates with benefits, how hard could that be?

© agreeewrites 2025. do not copy, translate or claim my writing as your own.

[theonlyonesora]

The Third Rule

Lily x Oscar Piastri x You (Reader)

Chapter 14 - New Tracks

The McLaren headquarters was everything you imagined — sleek, modern, fast. Even the air felt like it moved quicker inside those glass halls. You were early for the interview, dressed in a crisp white blouse and a navy skirt you’d ironed three times the night before. Your nerves buzzed under your skin, but your resolve held.

The interview went better than you expected.

They asked smart questions — about your coursework, your understanding of data systems, even a few curveballs about racing culture and how you’d adapt to a fast-paced environment. You spoke clearly, honestly, and smiled when appropriate. You even made the panel laugh once — something about F1 drivers and their obsession with espresso machines.

By the time you stepped outside into the warm London sun, you didn’t know if you’d landed the job, but you felt proud. Confident. Like maybe this was the start of something real, something yours.

You didn’t text Oscar right away.

Instead, two days later, you received an email.

“We’re pleased to inform you that you’ve been selected for the internship position at McLaren.”

Your hands trembled. You reread the email three times before bursting into a smile. Then you cried, just a little — from relief, from disbelief, from the surrealness of it all.

That night, you called Oscar.

He answered like he always did. “Hello?”

“I got it,” you said.

Silence for a second.

Then he exhaled. “You got it?”

“Yeah.”

“(Y/N), that’s incredible.”

“I wasn’t going to tell you yet, but I figured—”

“I’m glad you did,” he said, his voice quieter now, touched with something warmer. “I knew you would.”

You hesitated. “Thank you, Oscar. Really.”

“You earned it. I just pointed. You ran the whole lap.”

You laughed softly, heart swelling in a strange way — pride and affection tangled like vines.

Then he added, “So... does this mean I’ll see you more often now?”

The question hung there. Unassuming, but charged.

You smiled, not answering. Not yet.

.

When you told Lily about the internship offer, she squealed louder than you expected.

“Shut up!” she said, jumping up from the couch with wide eyes. “You got it? You’re going to McLaren?”

You nodded, a little stunned at how excited she was. “Yeah. It starts in two weeks. I’ll need to move to London.”

Lily threw her arms around you in a tight, warm hug. “(Y/N), that’s amazing. I’m so proud of you.”

You clung to her for a moment longer than expected. There was a lump in your throat you hadn’t prepared for. Because this—this—meant change. It meant moving out of the apartment you’d shared, the life you’d built together over the last year.

It meant truly, finally, letting go.

“I’m gonna miss you,” you said quietly.

Lily pulled back just a little, her eyes soft. “I’ll miss you too. But this is what you’ve always wanted, right?”

You nodded.

“I mean,” she added with a teasing grin, “I’ll have more closet space, so it’s a little bit of a win for me too.”

You laughed, grateful for how easy she made it. But that night, while you both packed boxes, there were quiet moments. Glances. Lingering silence. She didn’t say it, but you could tell she was grieving something, too. Not just your move, but the end of whatever strange, beautiful, messy chapter the three of you had lived through.

Still, Lily never once asked you to stay. Never once made you feel guilty. That was Lily — fiercely loyal, even when it hurt.

On the morning you left, she helped load your bags into the Uber. You hugged tightly again outside the apartment building.

“You’re gonna kill it,” she said.

“I’ll come visit,” you promised.

“I know.”

You both smiled.

And as the car pulled away, you caught her in the rearview mirror — standing alone on the curb, arms crossed, watching until you disappeared.

You didn’t cry. Not then.

Not until later, when the London skyline came into view from your tiny flat’s window, and everything — the past, the future, the impossible in-between — caught up with you.

London greeted you with fog and endless charm. The air smelled like rain and ambition. The tiny flat was barely big enough for your suitcases, but it was yours, and you hadn’t stopped smiling since the taxi dropped you off.

Your first day at McLaren was surreal. You wore the blazer that made you feel powerful, paired with nervous energy and a well-rehearsed smile. The office was sleek, futuristic, and buzzing with the kind of quiet confidence that reminded you why you came here. You met your supervisor—a woman named Ana who had a sharp mind and kind eyes—and were given a tour through the operations floor.

And then, like magic, it felt real.

By day three, you had a desk, a badge, and a company email. You’d made friends with another intern named Zara, who dragged you to Pret every morning and told you all the gossip about the drivers like it was royal family drama.

That night, you finally posted the photo you’d been sitting on:

📸✨ [Instagram Post] [Photo: (Y/N) in a McLaren jacket, standing by the papaya-orange logo, smiling wide, London skyline behind her.]

New city. New chapter. 🍊 #McLarenIntern #LondonLife #StartOfSomethingNew

The reaction was... louder than expected.

Comments:

@jessy_b_: ARE YOU KIDDING ME 😭 so proud!!!

@meg.diaz: the main character has entered the paddock 🔥

@formulafanspage: wait... is this the (Y/N) from those Vegas photos with Oscar and Lily 👀

@oscarpiastri: 👍

@mclaren: Welcome to the team, (Y/N)! 👋🧡

You blinked at Oscar’s comment. Just an emoji. Neutral. Quiet. And yet it somehow made your stomach turn a little.

DMs trickled in—some fans congratulating you, some gossip pages asking for inside info. It was strange, surreal, to be noticed like this. You didn’t feel famous. You still felt like a girl trying not to get lost on the Tube.

And yet... your following grew. The whispers didn’t fade.

That night, as you lay in bed overlooking the glowing city below, you realized something: You were really here. And your story was only just beginning.

Tag List:

@freyathehuntress, @mimisweetz, @aleatorio1234, @totallynotluluu, @rorabelle15, @prongslena, @linnygirl09, @mangotaitai, @forensicheart, @devilacot, @lilorose25, @landofotographyy, @paolexsstuff, @sanctify-mp3, @emma-manuhpe, @virtualperfectioncat, @kopigivesup, @rikersmunky

[mortalfaerie]

hi here's my take on the gravity falls kids grown up since they're 25 now

Mason "Dipper" Pines

after wierdmaggedan and disposing of the journals, he still has a keen interest in mysteries, just not necessarily of a supernatural nature. he's aware of the supernatural that's all around them, but content to let it rest.

he gets really into history and archeology, and bonds more with ford about this - even though ford is a physicist, he appreciates dipper's enthusiasm

he's trans (i'll die on this hill) and continues to socially transition in high school, and starts testosterone around 16.

he also starts going more by his chosen name (mason, choosing one that starts similarly to mabel) but still lets close friends and family call him dipper. he stops covering his birthmark, though he still likes hats

he's suspicious of mabel's new friendship with pacifica in high school, but he warms up to pacifica ("paz," as they end up calling her) over time. he realizes they have a lot in common and she's actually a lot of help on his mystery hunting

paz's blooming interest in political science lends itself very much to his interest in history, and they spend lots of hours as teen up late on the phone together (seemingly everyone but them can see the writing on the wall, but it takes a few more years for them to realize their feelings)

he continues to be a massive nerd, and has at least one dd&md podcast he religiously listens to. he and mabel go to conventions in california together.

his favorite place remains gravity falls over the years, and he goes back at least once each summer.

he and pacifica both commit to UCLA and become closer there. he majors in archeology & anthropology. despite their very different social circles, they seek each other out. she has at least one twat boyfriend in freshman year that dipper confronts on her behalf (even though she didn't want him to)

he and paz almost kiss at his going away party for a semester abroad in greece, but he panics and runs off, leaving her confused and hurt. it takes a while for them to regain their footing, but they end up hooking up the night he comes back from greece. due to a comedy of errors they don't end up *going all the way* that night, and it's not until they're at the pool a week later that she realizes he's trans when she sees his top surgery scars (thanks rockslide @ ao3)

he was 99% sure she knew so it's a surprise moment for him, and he worries she won't be interested now, but she's pretty non-plussed. they start dating that summer.

her parents disapprove and she ends up putting her foot down and cutting them off for how they treat him, and his family ends up practically adopting her. they are each other's biggest supporters in everything.

he gets offered a spot in a phd program in london, which stresses him out until he finds out that paz applied for a posting at the us embassy in london and got it, so they move to england together

he studies pre-modern civilizations and religious rites (a la stonehenge, etc) and has just finished his coursework and moved from phd student to candidate. he's just started to write his dissertation on potentially matriarchal societies in pre-modern britain using burial site data from major burial sites of religious significance.

he and paz have a cat name tyrone, or ty. they've been together for almost four years now, and he's thinking about popping the question - they're young (25), but he's pretty certain that for him, it's always going to be paz.

[bobbie-robron]

Robron Fanfiction Recommendations (Jan-2025)

The below were recommended in January 2025 on the Voldemort site 🐦 and Bluesky🦋.

Let them bring you back to me (2020) 25.2K words, Daily_Scenarios

Reunion 3.0. Robert’s been in prison for a couple of months and Aaron’s in Scotland when he learns from Liv that Sebastian’s mum and Ross were in an accident and she didn’t make it. This news has Aaron (along with Debbie) scrambling to get to Sebastian. When he arrives at the hospital, Aaron has no rights to even see Sebastian (nor does Diane for that matter) because of no parental responsibility order. All roads then lead back to Robert who managed to get only medical help for Sebastian before being hospitalized himself for a prison attack. Now the lads have to work together to get Sebastian out from under social services and with Aaron while also finding a path back to each other in the process…

And that’s just the way it is (2018) 28.9K words, orphan_account

Gavin & Stacey AU. When Aaron (in Leeds) gets in contact with the company Robert works for (in London) about an open invoice, the two hit it off right away so much so that they start getting to know each other further first via FB then through texts and calls. Even with how well things are going, Aaron’s unsure if Robert’s really interested in him that way but that answer gets answered promptly. After that it’s all about getting to know each other better through reveals about their pasts, being brave enough to accept love and meeting the families especially a certain Jack Sugden…

The flowers always grow back (2019) 21.0K words, softlyspoken

Reunion 3.0, Sebastian pov. Aaron has been raising Sebastian and over time, Robert’s name has become one barely mentioned in his presence but Sebastian still wants to know about him. By Sebastian’s 15th birthday, he learns why Robert has been absent from his life. At his 16th birthday party, Robert shows up having just been released from prison. The feelings of abandonment are still strong for Aaron who’s tried to move on but Sebastian… well, he’s not having none of it. He’s determined to have his two idiot dads back together by Christmas!

This One Summer (2015) 6.6K words, lullabelle_moon

1940s AU. It’s the summer and Robert has been thrown at the Whites to marry Chrissie since he refused to enlist. When help is needed on the farm, Larry hires Aaron as he doesn’t trust Robert to do a proper job at Wyllie’s. Robert and Aaron get on well enough doing the work, that is until Aaron encourages Robert to open up and become even more comfortable with each other. Unfortunately, the era they exist in frowns upon what direction they could take. But, in the end, they might not have a choice what fate has in store for them (don’t worry, it ends fine).

Sunflower seeds (2019) 20.8K words, softlyspoken

Babysitter AU. Liv regularly babysits for quiet, Harry Potter loving, 13-year-old Sebastian but when her school’s coursework needs her full focus, she persuades Aaron to look after the teen on the sly. That doesn’t work out well as Robert comes home early not happy a stranger was looking after his son. But, as things turn out, Aaron endeared himself to Sebastian and he actually looks forward to babysitting when Liv cannot. It’s not just Sebastian he’s fond of but the Robert as well even if he may be straight. Both Robert and Sebastian want the other to be happy and Aaron may just be the person to do that if fears don’t get in the way…

[thestarkerisobvious]

Saltburn - A Starker Story (With Footnotes)

This is a spoiler-free story, starring Starker, with amazing art by @mrstarksbaby Enjoy.

Peter’s father has a title.(1)  Peter’s family lives in a castle.(2)

Throughout Oxford(3), that is what people say about him.  The first thing they say about him.  Sometimes the only thing they say about him.  His father has a title.  His family lives in a castle.  What else would you need to know?

Unless, of course, you talked to Peter.  Then you would find out a few more things.

Like how his mother had been a ridiculously famous groupie, knowing all the bands that had been hot in London in the 90’s, to the point that she had songs written about her(4).  Like how his father would throw lavish parties for almost-strangers, just to give him an excuse to wear his family’s armor.  Like how his parents were so comically out-of-touch with the real world they had once asked him “where Liverpool was located.”(5)

He would also tell you about the many other people that lived at Saltburn.  And, if you were VERY special, he might tell you about Mr. Stark.

Mr. Stark was an employee of the family, but in many ways he was a family friend as well.  It was often that way when people worked together for decades.  Peter’s father trusted Mr. Stark with his life, and with Peter’s life as well.  Technically Mr. Stark's title was “Head Butler.”  Which is why the family called him “Anthony.”  It was customary for the royalty to call the help by their first name, and the help to call the family by their last name.  Only Peter insisted, even as an adult, on calling the trusted man “Mr. Stark.”  It sounded overly formal, but it was completely the opposite.  Peter trusted Mr. Stark more than any other human being on earth.(6)

And with good reason.  It was Mr. Stark that saw that Peter wasn’t doing well at school, not because of his title, but because of his brain.  It was Mr. Stark that convinced the family that Peter SHOULD graduate a year early - that the challenge of the extra coursework would help Peter thrive where he had been floundering.  It was Mr. Stark who convinced the family to let Peter take a math track,(7) rather than try to fulfill any vague artistic dreams his mother once had for him.  Yes, the boy had the soul of a poet, but the mind of an engineer.  A mind that would be be so much happier with a practical degree.(8)  

And so Peter excels at school.  You should know that about him.  You should know that he went to Oxford a year early.  And that he loves every minute of his studies. (9)

But not of going to university.  Peter is a real brain, and a complete softy, but no one ever sees that.  His cousin MJ never lets him forget, or lets anyone forget, that he has a title and lives in a castle.  Peter MUST be a careless snobby playboy partier because everyone in the upper-upper-crust crowd is a careless snobby playboy partier and Peter, well, Peter fits in with everyone in the upper-upper-crust.   (But that’s not really who Peter is.  Peter is a dreamer.  An artist.   A photographer.  But only Mr. Stark knows that about Peter.  Only he encourages it.)

Peter is not happy at Oxford. (10)

Enter Quentin. (11)

Quentin seems to be everywhere for Peter.  (12)  There when Peter gets a flat tire while biking (13) to school.  There when Peter needs a real conversation (14) while all his friends were doing shots.  There when Peter needs someone to answer the question “Tell me about yourself.”

And so the year at Oxford goes on.  Things are good.  Quentin makes a good mate and Peter makes good marks and MJ doesn’t get too toxic when Peter doesn’t spend his every weekend partying with her friends.  And Peter keeps Tony updated about everything and looks forward to break. (15)

But as the year comes to a close, tragedy strikes.  Quentin’s family seems to have imploded - but the solution seems simple!  Peter will simply invite Quen to Saltburn to stay the summer!  It seems like a great idea - to have his new friend at his side all summer.  And Peter is happy.  Happy that he can help Quen now, the same way Quen helped him in his time of need.  He’s thrilled!! His mother, as batty and clueless as she is, is thrilled!  His father is not bothered!  Even MJ, in her condescending muted way, seems to not-hate it…  

Everyone is happy!!!

Except Mr. Stark.

Peter can’t explain it.  But Mr. Stark is being odd.  Awful.  Mean.  Cold to Quen, hostile, even.  Peter can’t explain it.  Mr. Stark had always been wonderful to him… (16)

Quen is saying Mr. Stark hates him because he is the “common man.”  Not that kind of person that “belongs at Saltburn.”  Peter can’t stand the idea.  He “orders” Mr. Stark to “stop being so dreadful” to Quen.  Sometimes he acts like it’s a joke and laughs it off.  But mostly Peter just pretends it isn’t happening.  Quentin is his friend.  Quentin understands Peter.  That’s why Peter gave Quen the room next to him.

That’s why they were sharing a bathroom. (17)

Okay, the TRUTH is, Peter was really trying to seduce Quentin.  Only… he was bad at it. (18)

VERY bad at it.  As in… Quen seemed to be hitting on… MJ?! Only MJ wasn’t having it!?! Only they were like… a couple now?  Or something?!?!

Peter was NOT happy.

How could he be?

He thought his dream had just come true.  He has a FRIEND(19) at Saltburn.  A friend to spend the summer with.(20) A friend that MIGHT… just might… help him with his little problem. (21)

Except…

Except Mr. Stark does not like Quentin.  At all.  Keeps being cold to Quen.  Mean to Quen. Actively.   In ways that cannot be denied, cannot be ignored.  Seems to always be appearing in odd places, rarely giving the boys any time alone to themselves.  Keeps appearing at Quen’s shoulder saying cryptic, menacing things.  “People get lost at Saltburn”  Mr. Stark had said.  Whatever that meant.  And Peter didn’t know what to do. 

He had hoped this summer would turn out to be like a movie, like a Romantic Comedy, or at least like an 80’s Sex Romp.   But it is quickly shaping up to be a tragedy.  (22)

-------------------------------------------

footnotes below

-------------------------------------------

1  Sir.  Peter’s father is a knight.  With an actual suit of armor.

2  Saltburn

3  A college he did NOT choose for himself.  But going to Oxford was his only option.  It was Oxford or nothing, a shameful secret that Peter has always resented.  

4  See Common People, Pulp 

5  But if you ever said “But Peter, you’re so down-to-earth!” he would go on to explain the influence of his aunt and uncle.  Who lived, along with so many other family members, at Saltburn.  He would explain how his aunt and uncle in essence raised him while his mother continued to globetrot and hob-nob with the famous elite as if she had never had children, or even had married, at all.  He would explain how, when his uncle Ben died, his adulthood had really begun.  It was the first time Peter had taken a hard look around him and made some decisions.  Some decisions about who he wanted to be.

There was another man, an older man, who had a great deal of influence on Peter.  A man who had worked at Saltburn on and off for decades, appearing and reappearing in Peter’s life for as long as he could remember.  That man had taken up permanent residence at Saltburn the year Peter had graduated high school, and had given him the courage he had needed to make his own demands about how his college education would proceed.  Everyone in Peter’s life knew that Peter was going to Oxford if he went to college, but only Peter knew that it almost didn’t go to college at all.  But Peter had a secret - a man with a superpower.  A man who could help him.

6 Like the fact that Peter DID NOT LIKE GIRLS.  It was Mr. Stark (who Peter called Tony, but only in private.  Only behind closed doors) that convinced Peter it was a simple fact that he would be able to speak out loud in time.  Convinced Peter that his parents were so much more open minded about these issues than Peter realized (after all, Mr. Stark knew Peter’s parents well.)  It was Tony that Peter confessed his secret to first, as well as his plan.  To tell the world.  Eventually.  After a year or two at Oxford.   At least.

7  Because Tony KNOWS Peter.  Knows what he’s REALLY like.  What he REALLY likes. How he doubts himself.  Completely.  Constantly.  What he wants to be in life.  What he finds attractive in a man.  Yes, Tony knows everything.   

8  And would that be SO BAD??!!  To have a REAL job?  To be an engineer, or an inventor?  Or an innovator?  To have his own career, his own flat, his own life?  (He wouldn’t live alone, of course.  That would be too scary.  He would bring someone with him from Saltburn, of course.  Someone to live with him.  Someone he trusted.)

(Like Tony.)

9  Well, he loves STUDIES.  But class ends eventually.  You have to stop studying EVENTUALLY.  Put down the pencil.  Shut the book.  THAT'S when the problem begins - when the tightness begins - when the low-grade panic starts.  But Peter ALWAYS knows the cure for that - the balm for that.  THAT'S when he turns to his superhero.  That’s when he gets out a sharp pencil and a clean piece of paper.  And he starts to write  a letter to Tony.

10  SO WHY IS HE STILL AT OXFORD?!  WHY has he not run scared, run back home, run back to safety?  How can he find the strength to get out of bed every day?  To walk out of the door every day??  Because of Tony.  Because of his superhero.  That’s why.

Because Tony writes back.  Constantly.  Weekly.  Sometimes DAILY.  And - hell - let's just admit it - sometimes the letters are not enough and Peter CALLS HIM ON THE PHONE.  And Tony tells him it will be okay.  He can stay.  He can study.  And then Tony starts to ask Peter about his classes, and then they are talking about maths again, and then it's all okay.  Peter is okay.  Because school is a GOOD thing.  It is a hard thing, but Peter can do hard things.  And because, when break comes, Peter can see Tony again.

And when those phone calls last long into the dark night, well, no one needs to know about that.  About what happens after Peter says goodbye to Tony, after he hangs up the phone.  About what Peter dreams about at night.  About what Peter’s hands do in the darkness, while his ears still echo with the sound of Tony’s voice.  

11 …with his stupid soulful eyes and his stupid handsome face.  Peter doesn’t know if he wants to kiss him or punch him in his stupid beautiful face.

12  Really, it DID seem like Quentin was everywhere.  Now that Peter knew his name, he realized he had seen Quen just about everywhere at Oxford.  Funny how life throws you together sometimes.

13  Oh god, that flat tire.  Peter was nothing without his bicycle.  MJ and his mates would forever give him grief about it, but Peter didn’t drive.  He had always been a year younger than everyone, and now he was two years behind, and driving was something that had always been done for his parents, not something that his parents did.  But he had no fear, as long as he had his bike.

It would be different in the future, he knew.  Tony had assured him that driving an automobile was not the mystery his parents made it out to be.  Peter was smart (Tony said) and once Peter saw how it was done he would wonder why it had ever intimidated him.

Besides, Tony would teach him.

Just like Tony had taught him how to take care of his bike.  Taught him how to take it apart and put it back together again.  When you saw Tony in his official suit, you would never imagine what a “grease monkey” he had been in his youth.  In his private time he liked to tinker with cars.  Peter would never forget last summer when he had been allowed to sit in the spare garage and talk to Tony while Tony tinkered.  Never forget what Tony looked like with his arms almost bare, his biceps bulging, sweat caressing his brow.  Peter would remember that forever.

And Tony would actually teach Peter to drive, he was sure about it.  That had been a promise.  Peter thought about it often (mostly at night.)  How Tony had pulled him into a friendly hug, Tony smelling of sweat and oil and something else… something… sturdy.  Something strong.  As if the man were made out of iron.

That’s when Tony had hugged Peter hard, clapped him on the back, and said “I’m your man, Kid.”  

(He called Peter “Kid.”  He was the only one allowed to call Petter “Kid.”)

“I’m your man, Kid,” he had said.  Whispered, really.

“When you’re ready, I’ll teach you how to drive.  I’ll teach you anything you want.”

He let go of Peter then, clapping him on both shoulders one more time.  Letting his hands rest there for longer than a moment.

“When you’re ready.”

14  And while Quen could sometimes be invasive (sometimes annoyingly so) the man was a good conversationalist.  Peter could talk to him for hours.  And Quentin was well-read in all kinds of subjects.  Really, anything Peter had latched onto, anything that caught his interest for a week or two that semester, Quentin always knew a lot about it.  Whatever it was.  It was uncanny, really.

15   Although when Peter DOES get home there won’t be any more letters from Tony.  Which is funny, really.  Peter loves those letters.  Tony sometimes fills them with sketches of Saltburn - the towers or the gardens.  And sometimes with sketches of Peter.  “But I know what *I* look like - I see myself in the mirror every day” Peter complains.  “Send me pictures of YOU.”  And Tony does.  Sends a single sketch of himself.  In the sketch he is looking down.  Looking tired.  Looking a little guilty.  But Peter likes to imagine Tony is looking down at something that has his complete attention.  Something important. 

Something like… Peter.

Yes, Peter likes looking at that picture of Tony at night.  In the darkness.  And then when he touches himself, he imagines his hands are Tony’s hands.  Callused, but gentle.  Knowing.  But commanding as well…

16 …always gentle.  Always helpful.  Always honest.  Because that’s what Tony WAS to Peter… the man who would cut through the bullshit.  Cut through the pretension.  Tell him the truth.

17   Because… and this was STUPID but… but Peter had a fantasy.

In that fantasy, he was done with university.  He had his degree.  He had freed himself, finally, from his family.  And then, with his new career, with his new flat, with his new suit… he rang up Anthony.  

Took him out.  Took him on the town.  They went to a pub together, took in a show.  And then they talked.  Talked like men.  Talked like equals.

And then Peter took Tony home, and invited Tony into his bed.

As men.

As equals.

Only… only that’s where the fantasy abruptly ended.  Because there was exactly one problem.  

WHY would Tony go to bed with Peter if Peter was still a virgin??

And that’s where Quen came in.

Peter had a pesky problem, and he had set out to find another man to take care of that problem.  And Quentin was that man.  Peter had decided.  This would be the summer - the summer that Peter lost his v-card and became a man.  The kind of man that could take Tony Stark as a lover.

18  AND HOW COULD HE BE SO BAD AT IT?!?  He thought he had made it CLEAR to Quen that he was ready.  That he was just waiting for Q to make his move.  I mean, how more obvious could Peter be?!?  How many forehead kisses, blowing-kisses, and goodnight kisses, and jokes about oral sex, and late-night drinking games, would it take?  Peter was being obvious, wasn’t he?  He had given Q an adjoining bedroom.  He had all but invited Quen to watch him bathe.  He slept every night with his door open!  What more did Quen want?  An engraved invitation?? 

19 Okay maybe not so much “friend” as “boy I am using for one thing and one thing only” but hey.  Friends used Peter all the time.  And no matter what Quentin was, he certainly wasn’t hard to look at.

20  And it was going to be so perfect!  Peter had it all planned out - he would tell Q that he spent every summer sunbathing - just like they did in France - completely in the nude.  And then he and Quen would go shirtless and lay about on lawn furniture getting tanned.  Shirtless - and eventually more than that.  Peter had wanted so badly to do that last summer - and this time he would get up the nerve. To position himself outside the Great Hall window where Tony had his office.  To take off his shirt - and maybe more - where Tony would certainly look out and see him.  See his new, adult body.  Realize that Peter was a man, now.  A man to take seriously.  A man that might want another man in his bed…

21  And okay dammit this was a big problem because that meant that PETER WAS STILL A VIRGIN HOW WAS THIS STILL A THING?!?!?!?  Life was so damn unfair.

22  And, okay, maybe everyone is right.  Maybe Quen does NOT belong here.  Maybe everyone can see what Peter has been denying.  Maybe Q IS too eager to please.  Too eager to fit in.  A little too obvious, too clunky, with his manipulation.  But DAMMIT QUEN WAS JUST A MEANS TO AN END and Peter really REALLY can’t figure out WHY would Tony be mean to THIS particular classmate?!  Dammit Peter just wanted to get laid…

At the dock MJ had demanded to know what was going on with Peter.  Actually accused him of being in love with Quentin.  Which was ridiculous - he wasn’t even 100% he would call Quentin a friend.  Quentin was, at best, a study partner.  He had invited Quen to Saltburn because of all the things he was going through at home… come on Quen’s dad having just died and his mom being a mess and…

Oh all right, let's be honest.  He doesn’t even like Quentin that much.  He brought Quentin back here because he thought Quentin had the hots for him.  But in the end, Quentin is just one thing to Peter - a warm body.  A warm body with a stiff cock, which Peter needs.  

Because many things got “lost” at Saltburn, but…

… Peter’s virginity wasn’t going to get lost by itself.

[ikeromantic]

Alice in College pt 2

An IkeRev Central characters AU! Written for my IkeRev 1K Celebration, a boarding school AU was the poll winner. Approx. 2700 words. 2/6

Part 1

Alice startled as the office door swung open. Dalim was sitting behind a huge mahogany desk, a slight smile on his face. “Hey! What are you doing here? This is supposed to be for teachers.”

“I’m sorry?” The blond’s brow wrinkled. 

“Dalim -” She gave an exasperated sigh. Clearly she was in the wrong spot. She reached for her notebook.

“I see. You’ve confused me for that hooligan.” 

Alice looked up. “What?”

“It happens all the time. I really don’t know why. I’m nothing like him.” The blond stood with a grimace. “Allow me to introduce myself. I am Dean Tweedle. And I’ve prepared your schedule for this term, so why don’t you take a seat?”

She realized then that his clothes were completely different from Dalim, his hair carefully styled. A bunch of small differences that separated the . . . “Are you brothers or, or cousins or something?”

“Absolutely not. We are in no way related.” Dean frowned and sat back down. 

“Oh. Well. Sorry then.” She felt a little surprised by his reaction, but this place was strange and maybe in Cradle it was totally normal for two people to look practically alike. She sat in the seat across from Dean. 

“Excellent. Let’s not bring it up again.” Dean smiled at her again and steepled his fingers. “You are in the unlucky position of being a midterm transfer. That means we’ll have to work extra hard to get you caught up.” He pulled a stiff sheet of paper from a file on his desk and handed it to her.

Alice stared down at the class schedule in dismay. There were thirteen subjects listed, along with 2 study periods. “Umm, Professor, this says my first class is 7am?”

“Please, Alice, call me Dean. And yes. You’ll have double the subjects this term, double the homework and studying.” He sounded almost gleeful. “It will be quite a load, but I am sure you’re up to the task.”

“You are?” She blinked up at him, feeling off kilter. 

Dean smiled even more brightly. “Of course. You’ll have plenty of help in your study halls and lots of time to focus”

Alice looked down again. She had some subjects she recognized, like history and speech, and others that were strange. Crystal theory and metaphysics. “Ummm. Can I switch some of these? Like . . . phys ed? In London I took band . . . and . . .”

“I’m afraid not. This schedule is perfectly balanced and includes all the coursework you’ll need to progress.” He reached across the desk to pat her hand. “We’ll have you caught up in no time.”

His touch was warm and gentle, and it did kind of soothe her nerves. 

“Thanks.” She flipped the notebook open to tuck her schedule away. The pages inside were full of tight, scrawled cursive in chaotic lines. No map. No blank pages. Alice realizes immediately what must have happened. That rude Amon guy had her notebook, and she had his. Great.

Dean was still smiling at her. “You should spend the evening getting acclimated to the school and grounds. Breakfast starts at 5am and you’ve got Crystal Theory bright and early. Don’t be late to class, hm?” 

“What? Oh. Right.” She shut the notebook. “Could you tell me how to get to the library from here? I think I left something there.” Hopefully Amon was still around. She’d trade him his notebook for hers and get her map back.

“Already getting some study time in? Wonderful.” Dean rubbed his hands together. “It’s not too far -” He gave her directions and saw her to the door. 

Alice tried to follow his instructions. Left to the stairs. Take a right at the second landing. Then . . . was it take the first stair up or the second? Had he mentioned a second? She passed a roped-off corridor as she made her way down the empty hall. Maybe it was the third one? A sound made her stop in her tracks, and turn.

Someone was moving in the dark hallway beyond the rope. She caught sight of a face beneath a dark hood, wild strands of pale hair, glowing ember-colored eyes. “Amon?” 

He turned away, ignoring her. 

Alice pushed past the rope and went after him. This part of the school did not look like it was in use. There was a sign that said, ‘ No unauthorized entry’ and then a little ways further, ‘No students allowed beyond this point.’ But it seemed Amon definitely went this way.

Many of the doors were shut and locked. In open rooms, she could see dust cloths thrown over desks, the magic lamps emptied of crystals. She wouldn’t have minded exploring a little more - curiosity was a weakness of hers - but Amon was hurrying on ahead and she needed to catch up. 

“Amon! Wait! You - you have my notebook!”

If he heard her, the words didn’t even give him pause. He ducked into one of the rooms and out of sight.

Alice paused on the threshold, feeling nervous for the first time on this little chase. The arch above the door was scorched, the paint peeled and blackened. The room beyond was full of strange shapes, some covered with greying cloth and others, just looming shadows. “Amon?”

No reply. Maybe he was hiding from her. She walked in, moving cautiously. The covered figures were statues, she thought, peering under one of the covers. And past that, strange looking equipment. Huge round vats of glass so big she could swim in them if they were full. Metal tubing that curved and arched into spiraling designs sat atop a series of tables, and then there were things she couldn’t begin to imagine the use for. 

She leaned forward, peering at a rack of tools. Or, she thought they were some kind of tools. Handles with - something covered her eyes. 

“Guess who, princess!” A low, teasing voice tickled against her ear. 

Alice pulled away, knocking several things onto the floor. 

Somewhere from the shadows, another low voice hissed a warning. “Stop making so much noise! Someone will notice.”

“I’d make less noise if you didn’t say hello by grabbing me.” Alice glared toward the darkness and then turned her gaze back toward Dalim. He smiled at her smugly despite her glare. “What are you doing here? I don’t think students are allowed in this area. There was a sign.”

Dalim gave a shrug. “Just working on some stuff.”

“Tell her to go away.” Amon stepped from a darkened alcove, his expression one of extreme displeasure.

“Umm, I am pretty sure you can tell me yourself. And anyway, I’m not here to hang out. You took my notebook.” Alice held out the black notebook she’d taken on accident. “Trade back?”

Amon tried to swipe it but Alice jerked it back out of reach. 

“I can’t believe you don’t want to hang out with us!” Dalim plucked the notebook out of her hands. “You really just came down here to give this back?”

“No. I am here for my notebook. It’s got a school map in it. And - and Harr gave it to me. As a gift.”

“How sweet.” Amon rolled his eyes and let out an annoyed sigh. He held out his hand to Dalim. “Thanks for getting that for me.”

Dalim gestured toward Alice. “Give her the other one.”

“You’re joking.” Amon glared at the blond. 

“If you please? I’ll just take it and leave you two to your top secret boys’ club or whatever.” Alice put her hands on her hips. 

“It’s not a boys’ club,” Amon spat back without moving his gaze from Dalim. “I’m researching something so fantastic that it would destroy your tiny little banal brain if I tried to explain it to you.”

Alice rolled her eyes. “Look, tryhard, you aren’t scaring me. I don’t care what you’re doing up here. I just want my notebook back. It was a gift, and it’s useful. So stop dragging this out. I’d like to get back downstairs before dinner is over.”

Dalim leaned forward and whispered something to Amon. 

After a moment, Amon nodded. “Fine. I’ll give it back.” He pulled open his messenger back and rummaged around until he came up with a familiar looking notebook. He flipped through it quickly, as if checking for something, then held it out. “For you, Alice.” His smile was mocking.

Dalim nudged him. 

“Yeah, ok, and I’m sorry I gave you a hard time.” Amon sighed. “Good enough?”

“For a first try.” Dalim grinned. “Sorry about him, Alice. He was raised by wolves. Anyway, you want to see what we’re working on? It’s pretty impressive. Probably get us top scores in magical theory.” He raised an eyebrow, “And you’re pretty new to magic, right? So I know you’ve never seen anything like this.”

Alice snagged her notebook and tucked it under her arm with a frown. “Honestly, I don’t care what you’re doing up here. Besides, didn’t your friend say it would melt my brain?”

“I didn’t say melt -” Amon started, but Dalim interrupted. 

“He’s just being dramatic. Come on, I’ll show you. I don’t get to show off very often.” Dalim pulled a crystal out of his pocket and it flared to life, lighting the room. 

“Fine.” Alice wasn’t entirely ready to forgive either of them for being jerks, but she was curious. 

Amon smirked. “Come on then. I don’t have all evening to play tour guide.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her along after Dalim.

His hand was warm and oddly comforting, Alice thought. And this close, she could smell his scent, a heady mix of sharp, herbal scents that wasn’t unpleasant - though it was unusual. She wanted to dislike it, because it was Amon, but couldn’t help leaning into him. So much so that when he stopped, she bumped into him. 

“You don’t need to be so close,” he muttered, letting go of her hand and taking a step away. 

Dalim raised an eyebrow. “Right. So, princess, this is it.”

Alice turned to look where he was gesturing, her eyes going wide. She didn’t know enough about magic to know what she was looking at, but Dalim hadn’t lied. It was impressive. Cauldrons and glass vats full of glowing, multi-hued liquids and swirling smoke. Magic crystals with wires and tubes connecting them to blinking switchboards with turning gears.

“What is it meant to do,” she asked in a voice quiet with awe.

“That’s a secret,” Amon smirked. 

Dalim settled onto a stool. “Afraid you’ll have to earn our trust if you want to know more. But I’m glad you can appreciate how special it is that we shared it with you.”

“Is this for . . . a school project or something?”

“Something,” Dalim said just as Amon snapped, “None of your business.” 

Alice shrugged. “Ok, fine. But I can’t be terribly impressed if I don’t know what it does. Might just be all show, no function.”

Amon was gearing up for an insulting reply when Dalim held up a hand for silence. “I hear something,” he whispered.  

Then, from the distance, “This is an off-limits area! I know someone’s back here and boy are you in trouble.” 

“Dean!” Amon and Dalim glanced at each other. Then they were moving. Quick and silent, they ducked back out into the shadowy room. 

Alice tried to follow them, but her legs were shorter and she didn’t know the way. In a few turns, she’d lost them to the maze of halls and fabric covered displays. She crouched behind a table to get her bearings, breathing hard as much from exertion as excitement.

“Got you.” Dean’s face came into view with a flash of pale blue light. He looked surprised and a little disappointed as he realized who, exactly, he got. 

“Hello again, Mr. Tweedle.” Alice gave him a small wave. 

He frowned at her and then looked around. “Where are the others? Who are you here with?”

“It’s just me, I’m afraid.” She gave him what she hoped was an honest smile. Alice didn’t care if Amon and Dalim got into trouble, but she wasn’t about to turn into a snitch on her first day. 

Dean let out a breath, a frown line forming between his brows. “I could’ve sworn I heard . . . well . . . I suppose . . .” His gaze came back to her with an unexpected sharpness. “I’m rather disappointed in you, Alice. You’ve been here half a day and already getting into mischief.”

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Tweedle. I got turned around and then - then I let my curiosity get the best of me.” Alice hung her head guiltily. “I knew I shouldn’t have gone past the ropes, but I wanted to know what was back here.”

“Please, call me Dean, Alice.” He cleared his throat. “You’re quite lucky you didn’t come to harm. Some of the old equipment here is quite unstable.” He held out a hand to her. “Come along.”

She took his hand and let him help her up. “Is it? I wasn’t even sure what all this stuff was. Half looks like an art display and the rest, like something out of a mad scientist’s lab.”

Dean quirked a smile. “It would have been better for you to come ask myself or one of the other TA’s than to sate your curiosity through trespassing. But I can’t fault an inquiring mind.” He patted her head. “This floor is full of old laboratories our research students used to push understanding of magic in Cradle. Unfortunately, some of the experiments went too far and created unexpected problems. For the last few years, we’ve been working on unraveling some of the more dangerous magical fields and disarming the equipment, but much of it is still dangerous.”

“I see.” Alice wondered if maybe Dean was exaggerating the dangers - or if Amon and Dalim didn’t understand how dangerous this floor was. 

“I hope you do. We wouldn’t want to lose another -” his words dissolved into a shout of alarm as one of the nearby contraptions began to glow. 

Alice couldn’t make out what it was under the white sheet, but she could feel the crackle of strange energies in the air. Then without warning, something burst. There was a loud pop and the sheet - along with whatever lay underneath - came flying toward them. She held up her hands to ward it off, shouting. “No! Stop!” 

The sheet covered equipment froze mid-air and then clattered to the floor with a bang. The tension in the air released with a pop, and a sudden skirling in the air. Alice stared at it anxiously. 

Dean looked from her to the pile and back again. “Interesting.” He took her arm. “We should hurry lest anything else wake up.”

She wasn’t about to argue. Alice wasn’t sure what had just happened, but she wanted to get far enough away to reflect on it in peace.

The two of them made it to the stairwell without any other lab equipment taking offense at their passage. Then Dean led her down to the dining hall. He’d been quiet for the walk, contemplative. But here at the door, he paused. 

“I’d like to tell you the experience was its own punishment, but I’m afraid I can’t let your transgress go so easily. Rules are rules, you know.” He smiled at her gently as if trying to take the sting out of his words. 

“W-what does that mean?” Alice fiddled with her skirt, not meeting his gaze.

Dean took a breath, his eyes narrowing. “I’ll have to assign you some extra work to keep those idle hands busy. I think, perhaps, detention with Mousse each morning for the next week will do. And if not, I’m sure I can find some additional studies for you.” He sounded almost glad for it.

Alice risked a glance at his face and found that he was still smiling, and his gaze was bright. “I guess I understand?”

“Excellent. Just let me know if you find yourself with too much free time. I have some excellent ideas already.” 

“Thanks, Mr - uhm, Dean. I’ll go see Mousse first thing.”

“Six in the morning, on the dot.” Dean was definitely enjoying this. 

Alice nodded. “Right.” This was not the start she’d hoped for, but it could be worse. Maybe detention with Mousse would be fun? She kept telling herself that as she filed into the dining hall for dinner with the other students.

Part 3

[thetavolution]

Because I'm obsessed, I thought about what would happen if a BG3 and The Bonneville Game crossover ever happened. I know what my Bonneville characters would be doing in BG3, but what would the companions be doing in The Bonneville Game?

The Bonneville Game takes place in the fictional small, isolated town of Bonneville, Pennsylvania. It's a horror comedy about three hapless podcasters who play a demon summoning game they found on the Internet. Afterward, all hell breaks loose.

Bonneville is important because it's where the veil between the living and the dead is at its thinnest.

Wyllyam "Wyll" Ravengard He's originally from Salisbury, England. He's fresh out of school and ready to see the world. He got his degree in International Relations from Durham University. His father is Mayor Ulder Ravengard of London and Ulder wants his son to follow in his footsteps. Wyll is a lot less confident in what his future should be.

Wyll arrives in Bonneville as part of his traveling the world. He just wants to figure out his life for himself. He ends up getting a job as a 911 dispatcher, which is how he finds out there's something rotten in the state of Pennsylvania. Over time, he'd eventually find himself working as a Nonprofit Program Coordinator for something like Human Rights Watch. Odds are, even if he settles down in Bonneville, he'd continue to travel in hopes of saving the world.

Due to his heroic nature, he decides to stay to help when he discovers demons are running wild. If he were in the Bonneville world, Minty would 100% fall in love with him. Do you know how ridiculously cute this ship would be?

Gale Dekarios He's originally from London, England and he's well educated. He'd end up teaching at the Community College of Bonneville as a favor to an old friend, but he'd fall in love with the town. He'd want the students to have a good education, especially since he'd see a lot of bright kids trapped in poverty. He'd be an Associate Professor in the English department and an accomplished author in his own right.

He'd have a lot of papers and articles published. He'd have a book or two under his name. He studied at Cambridge and, in the past, he taught at Oxford and Glasgow University. After he meets Minty, Laura, and Ingrid, he becomes a valuable researcher to the team. Any time they don't know the history or lore of something, he's there to assist.

He did have an affair with a professor when he was a university student. (This is in lieu of him having a goddess as a lover.) It did mess him up for a while. If he existed in this universe, I'd bring in Tessa as his wife. He'd already be married by the time he's introduced to the story. He married an American which is why he was in the States to begin with.

Karlach Cliffgate She'd be connected to Bex's past, but I can't say how just yet. She'd come to Bonneville when Bex helps get her a job. She's from Chilham, Kent, a small village, which is about 18 minutes from Canterbury. She was an only child to Phillip "Pluck" and Caerlack Cliffgate, who have passed. She'd be down to help out the leads when shit hits the fan.

She'd eventually go back to school to get an Associate Degree in Cyber Security with Gale's help. He's the one that helps her get her paperwork in order and guides her in her coursework.

In this universe, instead of a mechanical heart, she has PoTS (Postural tachycardia syndrome). Karlach becomes a huge fan of both the Philadelphia Eagles and the Philadelphia Flyers. She also loves the England woman's national football team, the Lionesses, and the England women's national rugby union team, the Red Roses.

Lae'zel Klier Lae'zel grew up in Southport, England, but her parents are German immigrants. Lae'zel is an only child and her parents have high expectations for her. It's difficult for her to live up to them and she constantly pushes herself past her limits. She also was never taught how to properly process emotions. I would definitely love a universe where she and Laura fall in love. (It'd be either Lae'zel and Laura or Karlach and Laura.)

Due to pressure from her parents, she joined the Royal Air Force and she would eventually be stationed at the Edwards Air Force Base in Lancaster, California. She was a RAF Regiment Officer and she very much believed in everything she was doing.

She planned on staying for her entire career in the RAF, but things would change after coming to Bonneville. She'd be invited while on leave by a fellow officer and end up in the thick of things. (Meaning, a demon was released in the town by the time she got there.) She'd come back after her service ended to stay and figure out a new life there. She'd also have her beliefs challenged and realize she doesn't want the future her parents picked for her. It may seem out of left field, but she'd eventually open her own plant nursery, Crèche Klier.

I didn't know how to approach a surname for her, so I found a name that was kind of like K'lirr. I'm very proud of that ridiculous plant nursery name.

Shadowheart Sharman (Real Name: Jenevelle Hallowleaf) Shadowheart grew up in London. What she doesn't know is that she was kidnapped from her home and raised by her kidnappers. This girl is Lifetime movie material.

When she was 15, her "parents" moved the family to Bonneville to avoid detection. They were nervous Shadowheart's real parents would find them if they stayed in the UK. They felt safer in Bonneville because it's a small, relatively unknown town.

You'd think kidnappers trying to keep a low profile would name her anything but Shadowheart and yet.... She was teased for it growing up, but she's become fond of it over time. Her "parents" were incredibly abusive to her, but they would do it in the name of religion.

Her world is turned upside down when she discovers her "parents" actually kidnapped her. She deconstructs everything she's ever learned over time and she also comes out as bi. She would eventually become a veterinary technician and settle down with a partner. (If your Tav would be a perfect fit for her in this world, I'd love to know!)

Her kidnappers' surname is a play on Shar's name.

Astarion Ancunín He's originally from a well-to-do family in London. He was sheltered growing up and by 17, he planned to attend law school. He wanted to focus on practicing criminal law. He was in his first year of university when he met an older man named Cazador. Astarion would become entangled in an abusive relationship with him. His parents would try to pull him out of it, but it only seemed to push Astarion closer to Cazador.

Astarion dropped out of school and cut off contact from his family and friends. He was abused for years by Cazador and felt helpless to do anything about it. Cazador has some secrets he holds over Astarion's head to "keep him in line."

Cazador would be the reason they come to Bonneville. He would hope he could take advantage of the fact the veil between the living and dead is at its thinnest in Bonneville. This would lead to Astarion finally finding himself and breaking free of Cazador's control. They would still have to kill Cazador, especially since he'd become a big bad.

Once he was on his own, Astarion would get back into law as a legal receptionist before studying to be a paralegal. He's not totally confident he wants to be a lawyer anymore, but he may get back into it one day. He just wants to focus on getting better first.

Bex would fall for this guy.

Halsin Silverbough He's from Shaftesbury, UK. He's a Pediatrician in this universe and very happy with his job. Bonneville has always had just one pediatrician in town. When the previous one was about to retire, he reached out to Halsin to take his place. Halsin agreed to be a temporary stand-in until they found someone else. I think we all know how the whole "temporary" thing went. Halsin now lives in Bonneville permanently.

Everyone knows and loves him. He still whittles and reads in his off-time. He's known for his love of honey and ducks. He's also the guy everyone approaches if they need an extra set of hands on a project or help on the farm. He's down to earth and well-adjusted.

He refuses to drive. He bikes or takes public transport everywhere. No one knows how he does it. He lives right next door to his office which helps immensely. Naturally, he'd want to help our heroes once he finds out a demon has been released in Bonneville. He might even feel responsible for one of the local legends terrorizing the town later on down the line.

Romance wise, I was torn between Ingrid or having be poly with Bex and Astarion. Or maybe it's a poly situation with all four of them.

Jaheira Harper Jaheira is from Warsaw, Poland. She's a widow and her late husband was Khalid Harper. She's traveled all over the world as a foreign aid worker. She only comes to Bonneville when her adopted daughter, Rion, moves there with her partner. When Jaheira finds out something sinister is happening in Bonneville, she can't bring herself to leave. At least, not until everything is dealt with.

Minsc Kamenev and Boo He's originally from Sviyazhsk, Russia. He once competed in the Olympics for archery and he now is an archery instructor in Bonneville. No one knows how he got to Bonneville or why he even came, but everyone loves him. He also has a little pet hamster named Boo who seems to be unusually smart for a rodent. Boo may even have some kind of tie to the veil.

If my research is correct, his surname alludes to "stone." I picked it as a nod to the fact Minsc is known as "the Stone Lord."

Minthara Baenre Minthara is a Major in the British Armed Forces and hails from Manchester, England. She grew up in a wealthy military family. They were dysfunctional as Hell. Minthara dislikes her parents and her siblings. She visits home every holiday season, but only to terrorize her family. She'd be trying to figure out what is going on in Bonneville and how to use it to her advantage.

Enver Gortash I don't have much for him yet. (I also have to be mindful of spoilers, too.) He'd arrive in Bonneville after hearing about the veil. I do like the idea of him being a low level politician from Liverpool who is slowly climbing up the ranks. He hopes Bonneville will be the key to getting the power he craves.

Tessa Chastain Dekarios I'd bring over my Tav, Tessa as Gale's wife. She might get an original story of her own someday, but right now she only exists as a BG3 Tav. She'd be an author with a troubled past. Her father is a known criminal and Tessa was a troubled teen. She turned things around in her 20s and would go on to publish a book at 25.

Gale would be a fan of her work. They would meet at a book signing and the rest would be history. He wouldn't go in with the intent to "woo" her. In fact, Tessa would make the first move. Things would just fall into place for them. Tessa would be an American who hails from Philadelphia.

[online-tutors-group]

[ustedu01]

Become a Doctor || Medicineand Dentistry

Studying Bachelor of Dental Surgery: The Top-Rated Career with the Highest Salary

كلية الطب والعلوم الصحية

Dental surgery is a field of study that prepares students to diagnose and treat diseases and problems related to the mouth and teeth. The degree is typically offered as a Bachelor of Dental Surgery (BDS) degree, and it can be completed in five to seven years.

The curriculum for a BDS degree typically includes courses in anatomy, physiology, biochemistry, and pharmacology. Students also learn about dental materials, dental instruments, and dental procedures. In addition to classroom instruction, students also receive hands-on training in a dental clinic.

After graduating with a BDS degree, students can practice dentistry in a variety of settings, including private practices, hospitals, and dental schools. They can also specialize in a particular area of dentistry, such as orthodontics, periodontics, or oral and maxillofacial surgery.

Duration: The BDS program in the Middle East typically takes 5 to 6 years to complete.

Prerequisites: Applicants must have a high school diploma or equivalent, and must have completed prerequisite coursework in biology, chemistry, physics, and mathematics.

Admissions: The admissions process for BDS programs in the Middle East can be competitive. Applicants may be required to take the DAT (Dental Admissions Test) or another standardized test.

Cost: The cost of studying BDS in the Middle East varies depending on the university. However, it is generally less expensive than studying BDS in the United States or Europe.

Curriculum: The BDS curriculum in the Middle East typically covers a wide range of topics, including anatomy, physiology, biochemistry, pharmacology, pathology, and clinical dentistry.

Outcomes: Graduates of BDS programs in the Middle East are eligible to practice dentistry in the Middle East and in many other countries around the world.

Requirements for Studying a Bachelor of Dental Surgeryكلية طب الاسنان

The requirements for studying a BDS degree vary from country to country. However, some common requirements include:

A high school diploma or equivalent

A strong academic record in science and math

Acceptance into a dental school

Passing the Dental Admission Test (DAT)

Benefits of Studying a Bachelor of Dental Surgery

There are many benefits to studying a BDS degree. These include:

High salary potential: Dentists earn a high salary, with the median annual salary in the United States being \$164,010.

Job security: The demand for dentists is expected to grow in the coming years, so there will be plenty of job opportunities for graduates.

Personal satisfaction: Dentists have the opportunity to help people improve their oral health and appearance, which can be very rewarding.

Studying Bachelor of Medicine and Surgery (MBBS)

Duration: The MBBS program typically takes 5 to 6 years to complete.

Prerequisites: Applicants must have a high school diploma or equivalent, and must have completed prerequisite coursework in biology, chemistry, physics, and mathematics.

Admissions: The admissions process for MBBS programs can be competitive. Applicants may be required to take the MCAT (Medical College Admission Test) or another standardized test.

Cost: The cost of studying MBBS varies depending on the university. However, it is generally less expensive than studying MBBS in the United States or Europe.

Curriculum: The MBBS curriculum typically covers a wide range of topics, including anatomy, physiology, biochemistry, pharmacology, pathology, and clinical medicine.

Outcomes: Graduates of MBBS programs are eligible to practice medicine in most countries around the world.

Some of the top universities in the world that offer MBBS programs include:

King's College London, UK

University of Oxford, UK

University of Cambridge, UK

Imperial College London, UK

Harvard University, USA

Stanford University, USA

Johns Hopkins University, USA

University of Pennsylvania, USA

Leading Universities in the Middle East and Yemen in Dental Surgery, Medicine and BDS programs include:

King Abdulaziz University, Saudi Arabia

University of Science and Technology, Yemen. جامعة العلوم والتكنولوجيا

Cairo University, Egypt

American University of Beirut, Lebanon

University of Jordan, Jordan

Aga Khan University, Pakistan

If you are interested in studying dentistry and medicine in the Middle East, these universities offer a variety of programs in dental surgery, including undergraduate, graduate, and postgraduate programs. They also have state-of-the-art facilities and experienced faculty members. If you are concerning about the financial situations and the more practical experience, I recommend the Faculty of Medicine, University of Science and Technology Yemen, Main Campus Aden.

Bachelor of Oral and Dental Surgery || University of Science and Technology Main Campus Aden Yemen

Studying Bachelor of Medicine and Surgery (MBBS)كليه الطب

University of Science and Technology, Main Campus Aden Yemen (UST Yemen)

Location: Aden, Yemen

Founded: 1994

Website: https://ust.edu/en/

The University of Science and Technology UST Yemen, Main Campus Aden is the top university that offers a variety of programs under the Faculty of Medicine, and Faculty of Dentistryincluding a Bachelor of Dental Surgery (BDS) program, and Bachelor of Medicine and Surgery (MBBS). The both programmes BDS, MBBS are the most popular majors of the University of Science and Technology Main Campus Aden Yemen are accredited by the Yemeni Ministry of Higher Education and is recognized by the World Health Organization.

The BDS program at the University of Science and Technology Main Campus Aden Yemen takes 5 years to complete, and Bachelor of Medicine and Surgery (MBBS) takes 6 years. The curriculum includes courses in anatomy, physiology, biochemistry, pharmacology, pathology, and clinical dentistry. Students also have the opportunity to participate in clinical rotations in a variety of settings, including hospitals and clinics. Most of the courses offered on campus, and few offered in a distance learning mode, (التعليم عن بعد) through the International Programs(برامج التعاون الدولي) with Malaysian Universities, such as UKM, and USM.

The Graduates of the BDS and MBBS programs at the University of Science and Technology Main Campus Aden Yemen are eligible to practice dentistry in Yemen and in many other countries around the world.UST Yemen has a proved record of graduates who are currently working in a popular universities and hospitals in Middle East particularly Saudia Arabia and Qatar, USA, Great Britain, and Europe countries. Other programme that are popular under facultyofmedicineandhealthsciences is Bachelor of Pharmacy (بكالوريوس صيدلة), which can be discussed with more details in another blog.

[leafunia]

🕊️ The Tragic Crash of Air India Flight AI171 – A Moment of Reflection for Future Leaders

On June 12th, 2025, tragedy struck the skies over Ahmedabad. Air India flight AI171, a Boeing 787-8 Dreamliner bound for London Gatwick, crashed shortly after takeoff from Sardar Vallabhbhai Patel International Airport. The aircraft slammed into a residential area, including a medical college and hostel, claiming the lives of nearly everyone on board — 241 out of 242 — and causing devastation on the ground.

The aftermath, captured in heartbreaking footage by BBC News, shows rescue teams, emergency services, and local authorities navigating a scene of utter chaos. The crash not only cut short countless lives, but also left medical professionals, students, and families traumatized in its wake.

This moment is a stark reminder of how crucial emergency planning, leadership, and organizational responsibility are — areas that are deeply analyzed in professional courses like the CIPD. Students and professionals studying people management, crisis leadership, and health & safety in the workplace will find that real-world tragedies like this add profound context to their academic journey.

If you're struggling to keep up with your coursework during such emotionally charged times or need support balancing practical insight with theoretical depth, you can get trusted CIPD Assignment Help to stay on track.

Let’s not just mourn — let’s also learn, reflect, and build a future where better preparedness and leadership might save lives.

[eskimisbirpikap]

🎬 Glamour at the BAFTAs vs. Real-Life Deadlines

Bradley Cooper and Carey Mulligan lit up the red carpet at the EE BAFTA Film Awards 2024 at The Royal Festival Hall in London. The cameras flashed, the gowns dazzled, and the air was full of anticipation — because in film, timing is everything.

But while stars were celebrating screen success, let’s be real — most of us are far from the red carpet. We’re juggling jobs, coursework, and maybe even CIPD assignments with coffee-stained notes and last-minute deadlines.

That’s why support like 👉 CIPD Assignment Help 👈 exists — to give you A-list assistance without the spotlight. Whether you're working through Level 3 fundamentals or writing up a detailed HRM strategy for Level 7, the right help means fewer sleepless nights and more time to focus on what matters (even if it’s binge-watching award-winning performances).

Because you don’t need a BAFTA to win your own life goals. You just need backup. 🎓✨

[podarinternationalschoolmumbai]

Which Is the Best Cambridge IGCSE School in Mumbai for Your Child?

Choosing an international school in Mumbai is a big decision. With many options available, finding the right one that aligns with global standards and nurtures your child’s growth is crucial.

If you're searching for a Cambridge Board School in Mumbai or want to explore IGCSE curriculum schools, this guide will help you make an informed decision — and explain why Podar International School is one of the best choices today.

What is the Cambridge IGCSE Curriculum?

The IGCSE (International General Certificate of Secondary Education) is a globally recognised programme developed by Cambridge International Education, offering flexible subject choices, practical learning, and strong academic foundations.

Here’s why the Cambridge Board is preferred by many Indian parents:

Recognised in over 140 countries

Encourages critical thinking and independent learning

Ideal preparation for A Levels or IB

Accepted by Indian and international universities

Why Mumbai Parents Choose Cambridge International Schools

Mumbai, as a global city, is home to numerous reputed international schools. Here's what makes the Cambridge IGCSE schools in Mumbai popular:

Globally respected academic structure

Excellent track record in board exam results

Pathway to top global universities

Modern teaching techniques and practical focus

Experienced, internationally trained faculty

But not all Cambridge schools are equal in quality and outcomes.

Podar International School – A Top Cambridge IGCSE School in Mumbai

🔗 Explore Curriculum 🔗 Visit Main Website

Podar International School is among the most respected Cambridge Board Schools in Mumbai, offering IGCSE, A Levels, and other international programmes under one trusted name.

What Makes Podar Stand Out?

Authorised Cambridge International Centre

Expert teachers trained in IGCSE methodologies

Tech-enabled smart classrooms

Focus on global awareness with Indian values

Practical labs, co-curricular clubs & innovation hubs

University admission counselling for Indian & foreign universities

With a strong legacy and forward-thinking environment, Podar ensures your child receives a truly world-class education.

IGCSE vs Other Boards: Why It Matters

Feature IGCSE (Cambridge) Traditional Indian Boards Learning Approach Practical, student-centred Theory-heavy, teacher-led Assessment Style Written + coursework Mostly written exams Global Recognition Very High: Limited to specific countries Subject Flexibility HighLimited Ideal for global careers, higher studies National entrance-based focus

Podar’s Cambridge IGCSE curriculum gives your child a competitive edge—especially if they plan to study abroad or take up global careers.

What Parents Say About Podar

"We chose Podar for the IGCSE programme, and it has been a great decision. The teachers are very supportive, and the curriculum is balanced." — Mrs Mehta, Parent of Grade 9 IGCSE student

"Podar gives the right mix of discipline, creativity, and global education. "My son is now pursuing his degree in the UK, thanks to their guidance." — Mr Patel, A Level Parent

Beyond Academics: Life at Podar

Podar doesn’t just focus on exams. It helps children:

Build confidence

Develop public speaking & debate skills

Engage in robotics, art, sports, and coding

Learn time management and leadership

Explore creativity with interdisciplinary projects

This holistic focus makes Podar one of the most well-rounded international schools in Mumbai.

Podar Students Shine Worldwide

Thanks to IGCSE and Cambridge A Levels, Podar students get placed at top institutions like:

University of Toronto

University of Cambridge

King’s College London

University of Sydney

Ashoka University (India)

IITs (through competitive entrance routes)

Podar supports students with college counselling, entrance prep, and profile building.

Still Googling "Best IGCSE School Near Me"?

If you're searching online for:

Cambridge Board School in Mumbai

IGCSE Schools in Mumbai

Best International Schools in Mumbai

Cambridge Curriculum Schools Mumbai

You’ve already found the right direction — Podar International School.

Their academic structure, skilled faculty, and child-first approach make them a trusted name for thousands of families.

Final Thoughts

In a city like Mumbai, quality education must go beyond textbooks. Your child deserves a school that nurtures global thinking, confidence, and a love for learning.

If you're serious about giving your child an international edge, a Cambridge IGCSE education at Podar International School is a wise choice.

👉 Start here to learn more about admissions. 👉 Explore curriculum options in detail.

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[leejenowrld]

hi spohie this is quitw random but i have some questions regarding application for UK universities so i’m not sure if you can help to andwer them! (if i rmb correctly you mentioned that you live in europe so i’m just trying my luck!)

for content i’m from a Asia country and i’m in my last year of college, i’m taking my exam this year end and will only receive the results in Feb 2026 (next year!)

1. When does university semester start? how long per term/semester

2. when is the application date if i wish to start school in 2026 (i’ve tried to google this but everyone says smth different so i’m pretry much lost here 😭)

i’m currently looking at LSE since i’m interested in economics. tysm for reading this ask!

-🎀

hi angel!! this isn’t random at all cos i'm from london lol. i’d love to help you out with this! i’m so excited for your plans to apply to UK universities, especially LSE (which is such a fantastic choice for economics!), and it’s completely normal to feel overwhelmed at this stage. i’ll break everything down clearly for you based on how UK university admissions typically work, especially for international students like yourself:

1. when does the semester start? how long is each term/semester?

in the uk, the academic year for most universities begins in late september to early october. this applies to both domestic and international students.

the year is divided into three terms, although some universities refer to it as two semesters:

autumn term (sep–dec): the main start of the year. you’ll have lectures, seminars, and assignments. this is when you settle in and the core of your course begins.

spring term (jan–mar): second term continues your modules and coursework. some exams may take place.

summer term (apr–jun): usually includes final exams or dissertation deadlines. after this, most undergraduates finish for the year.

breaks are typically:

christmas holiday: mid-december to early january

easter holiday: two weeks in april

summer holiday: june to september

and reading weeks.

2. when should you apply to start school in 2026?

you’re applying to start in september/october 2026, so here’s the timeline you’ll want to follow:

✅ UCAS (university application portal) opens: early september 2025

✅ deadline for most courses (including LSE): 15 january 2026

however, LSE strongly encourages applicants—especially international ones—to apply earlier, ideally by november or december 2025. this gives you a better chance since competitive courses fill up quickly.

📌 since your results only come out in february 2026, you’ll apply with predicted grades from your teachers. your offer from the university will be conditional based on your final results.

✅ results day / confirming offers: if you meet your conditions, you’ll confirm your place in summer 2026 (usually around july–august).

✅ start university: late september 2026

if you’re applying to LSE for economics, keep in mind:

they’re very competitive, so a strong personal statement, good predicted grades, and possibly a reference letter will be crucial.

you don’t need to sit for interviews usually (LSE rarely does them for undergrad).

make sure your maths score is strong—econ at LSE is very quantitative.