#can i call her cure midnight? i want to

[xerndrawz]

I CANT DO THIS. I LOST MY EVER LOVING MIND.

[theemporium]

Ahhh🧸🧸🧸 lando with his teen daughter who got drink for the first time? Maybe she snuck out when she wasn’t meant to but instead of being mad he’s just sweet and taking care of her and glad nothing happened to her🥹 maybe a lil snarky bc he’s lando

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

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“And where have you been all night, missy?”

Lando pressed his lips together when he watched his daughter freeze at the bottom of the steps and despite her back being to him, he could envision the look on her face so clearly. He knew exactly where she was. He knew exactly what she had done. But it was still sweet that she thought she was being subtle with the whole thing.

He knew the second you said no to your daughter about a party she wanted to attend, that she was going to disobey anyways. He saw the glint in her eyes, the same glint of mischief he recognised on his own. He knew she would be sneaking out. And maybe he should have prevented it, but he would’ve rather his daughter rebel when he was aware rather than do something worse when he wasn’t around.

He stayed awake, keeping an eye on her location (which she had stupidly forgotten to turn off) and made sure he was prepared to jump in the car if something happened. Eva was a daddy’s girl through and through, and he knew he would be the first person she would call if something happened.

Thankfully, nothing had happened except for the door she accidentally slammed on her way into the house.

“Uh,” Eva cleared her throat, gripping onto the bannister as she started to sway. “Midnight walk?”

“At four in the morning?” Lando countered.

“Midnight walks are about the vibe, not the time,” Eva said, her back still to Lando.

“And did you happen to encounter any alcohol on this walk?” Lando asked, watching the way her whole body tensed before she turned around, an innocent smile on her face.

“Don’t be silly, dad,” she scoffed, only to let out a little hiccup before she could finish her sentence. 

He gave her a soft smile. “C’mon, champ, let’s get you sobered up and in bed before you throw up on the carpet. Your mum will kick off if she wakes up to vomit stains, trust me.”

Eva opened her mouth to disagree, to wave her father off and insist she wasn’t drunk and that she was perfectly fine. But then she was stumbling and Lando was rushing towards her, and her limbs just felt so heavy from the walk between the taxi and the front door and she couldn’t be bothered hiding it anymore. 

“M’sorry,” she muttered, the words muffled as she rested her head on her father’s chest.

“It’s fine, honey,” Lando assured her as he wound one arm around her back and the other behind her knees, swooping her up in his arms as he began to head upstairs. “You’re a teenager. It’s what you crazy kids do.”

“Are you mad?” Her voice was so small, so scared. He hated it.

“Never, Eva-Bunny,” he murmured as he pressed a kiss to her hairline. “Just wanna know you’re safe. That’s all me and your mother want.”

“I know,” she sighed, nuzzling her face against the soft fabric of the hoodie he was wearing. “M’sorry for lying.”

“It’s not me you have to apologise to,” he said as he gently pushed her bedroom door open with his foot. “You’re gonna have a killer headache as your punishment in the morning.”

Eva let out a whine. “I don’t want it.”

Lando snorted. “You don’t get a choice, honey.” He placed her down on the bed, lying her head on the pillow before he moved to grab some clothes she could change into while he went down to get her some water and painkillers. “If you’re lucky, your mum will make her infamous hangover cure. Use the puppy dog eyes, she could never say no to those.”

Eva gave him a sleepy smile. “Think you can do something to piss her off so she isn’t too mad at me in the morning?” 

“And put myself in the line of fire?” Lando retorted before giving her a matching smile. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thanks, dad.”

“Anytime, Eva-Bunny.”

.

[underdark-dreams]

Fellow Rolan lovers forgive me 👀 I have no idea where this came from. I just encountered Harper Geraldus in Act 3 again in my playthrough last night, and my brain said, that boy needs to get [redacted]

Harper Geraldus x afab!OC (unnamed, description kept vague)

Wet Behind the Ears

"What would you like, Geraldus? You can tell me." Harper Geraldus has had a very bad, terrible, absolutely no-good week. His superiors decide he needs a night at the Sharess's Caress to cure what ails him.

Tags: Size Kink, Sexual Inexperience, Face Sitting, Explicit | afab!OC

Word Count: 5.6k [Read on AO3]

No sooner had she stepped from the bathwater did the door to her chambers swing open.

“Hope you’re not headed to bed,” called a sing-song voice.

She wrapped a towel around her wet middle just as Irenya flounced brazenly past the wooden screen beside her bath. Privacy was a rare luxury in Sharess’s Caress, but her workday was well over—she’d earned the right to a bit of it.

“Do come in,” she drawled. 

The elf only gave her a coy smile as she toyed with the laces of her tiny bodice. Even for a courtesan, Irenya wore as little as she could get away with. And the bar downstairs owed her half its profits for it.

“Good, you’re up. Mamzell’s got another client for you.”

“At this hour?” A bit of impatience crept into her voice; it was far past midnight. Whoever they were, they’d better be paying well. “Don’t suppose they’d prefer one of our lovely drow.”  

“You know that’s not how this works,” Irenya laughed, a tinkling sound. “Mamzell handpicked you. Said you’ll be his type.” 

That meant he was either quite green, or quite reserved—she knew her niche well. She busied herself with toweling off and wondered which. “Patriar?”

“Harper,” answered Irenya.

That did stir a mild curiosity. Harpers were even rarer than Guild members on the upper floors of this place, and that was saying something. Folk who dealt in secrecy and under-dealings were strongly discouraged from visiting pleasure houses—though she knew from personal experience that they didn’t always listen to orders. 

And why should they? Sharess’s Caress kept secrets better than any of them put together. But unlike the Guild or the Zhent, most Harpers weren’t known to have pockets deep enough for after-hours trysts. 

“If this is another favor for Entharl Danthelon,” she warned, cinching a gauze robe around her waist. “I swear, Amira turns into a giggling maid around that bloke. Don’t tell her I said that,” she added swiftly.

Thankfully, Irenya didn’t seem to hear. She took an eager step closer. “Just wait till you see, you might have fun with this one. He’s so pretty,” Irenya groaned, biting her lip in the way that earned all that coin.

Pretty or not, her body yearned only for her empty bed. But telling Irenya that would ensure it got back to Mamzell Amira, and the house mother’s patience had its limits. She put on a practiced smile instead.

“Then kindly shoo,” she told Irenya. “And send the pretty man up.”

As the door swung shut behind the elf—who was no doubt headed for a good night’s sleep, unlike herself—she heaved a sigh and moved to prepare her room for clientele. A second goblet on the tray; a pass over the covers and pillows to ensure they looked fresh and unslept in. She shook her hair down from its clasp, glancing in the mirror by the bath to smooth it. Then she perched herself on the edge of the mattress and arranged her robe to show a sliver of leg. Just enough to catch the eye. 

If this Harper was openly visiting the Caress, he must have done something very impressive worth rewarding. Or else survived something awful enough to warrant a professional distraction.

Gods, let it not be the latter. She’d comforted her share of men and women who only wanted to be held while they cried, but tonight, the prospect made her groan. A tumble in the sheets would be far less work on her part, and the customer usually left just as satisfied in the end.

A soft tap at the door broke her reverie. 

Her brow furrowed for a moment—knocks were rare. “Come in,” she called.

When the youth stepped slowly into her room, it was immediately apparent why he hadn’t just opened the door like any other patron would.

Irenya hadn’t lied—he was certainly pretty. But gods, he was young. Couldn’t be older than twenty or so, with an angular jaw and wide hazel eyes framed by long, dark lashes the same color as the hair curling just past his shoulders. He had the look of a fawn who’d just stumbled into the middle of civilization.

She watched his large eyes quickly take in the room. When they fell on her where she sat, the blush that traveled up his face was noticeable even in candlelight.

Her mind switched tack at once. She rose to her bare feet, wearing her friendliest and least wanton smile. 

“Please,” she invited, drawing an arm out to welcome him in. 

His eyes flicked down her figure once, then settled firmly up on her face. “Thank you,” he managed, and strode briskly into the room as if afraid she might rescind the offer. 

It took only a few seconds to size him up. His leather jerkin was well-worn but clean, same as his boots. He was tall and fit, yet he moved with more of a cautious ranger’s gait than that of a soldier or swordsman. Perhaps that was just down to nerves. As she watched him close the door, she noticed his pale fingers fidget and shake on the latch slightly.  

Few of his age and apparent rank could afford this place, particularly by special appointment. Someone must be very fond of this young man.

“Make yourself comfortable,” she told him, filling the inevitable silence before it could form. “Would you like a drink? I’ve got something excellent from Amn.”

She turned away to uncork the bottle and give him a chance to look around. In truth, this was a vintage she’d been saving for a quiet moment alone tonight—but it would taste just as fine with company. As she filled both cups, she could hear him shifting on his feet behind her.

“Thank you,” he repeated again as she turned back. His voice was a gentle tenor, and there was a nervous tremble on the first word. 

“So.” She offered the wine out to him—he was careful not to touch her fingers as he accepted it. “What shall I call you?”

“Geraldus,” he blurted out. Clearly not taking up her veiled offer to give a pseudonym. When his doelike eyes finally met hers again, they were unsure. “Can—could I ask your name?”

She gave him another easy smile and replied with the usual. Not returning his honesty—but when did she ever?

“Very nice to meet you.” And young Geraldus actually dipped his head in a little bow to her. Oh, she would have this one fast asleep in half an hour.

“What a gentleman,” she laughed, finding herself harmlessly charmed by the gesture. “The pleasure’s all mine. Seat?” 

She sank back down on the edge of the bed while leaving plenty of space for a gap. For a moment Geraldus froze, and she was afraid she’d broken him. Then he followed suit wordlessly, wine in hand, and took a seat on the very far corner of the mattress.

Really should bother Amira for some chairs, she noted to herself. Then again, most of the clientele didn’t mind beds as much as Geraldus apparently did.

At least he was drinking. It would help him forget his nerves, and she was pleased to see Geraldus take a long drought as his eyes roamed across the room again over the edge of his cup.

She took a savoring sip. “Good, isn’t it?”

“It’s sweet,” he agreed in surprise. “It doesn’t burn like—” He caught himself, looking sheepishly at her. “That is, it’s better than the wine back home.”

“Where’s home for you, Geraldus?” She tried and failed to imagine such a gentle soul growing up on the streets of Baldur’s Gate.

“Nowhere special,” he said, looking down to swirl the liquid in his cup. “Just a little village in the Greenfields.”

“Ah—” She half-reclined with an elbow on the mattress, and felt a grin rise to her face in spite of herself. “Yeah, that’s firmly ale country. Damn good ale, though.”

Geraldus’s face finally relaxed. “You’re from Greenfields too?”

“Just lived there for a while. Long enough to miss it after a few years in the Gate. Let me guess, was your family in barley or sheep?”

“Sheep,” he laughed, and she admired how handsome he was with a touch more confidence. “On rainy days I can still smell the wool.”

“You think sheep are bad? Try pigs.” She cocked a brow at him and took another drink.

Geraldus looked at her as though trying to tell whether she was joking. “There’s no way someone like you has mucked out a pig stall.”

“Why not?”

“You’re a lady,” he protested, as if that ended the discussion. “You drink Amnian wine, you smell like lavender—” Geraldus straightened up slightly, looking as though he'd given too much away. 

She found she enjoyed his guilelessness. She had no regrets about the comforts this life afforded her, but ‘lady’ was a stretch. Still, manners were always appreciated.

“How else do you think I paid my way here?” She teased him. “Selling my best sows set me up quite nicely my first year in Wrym’s Crossing.”

The subjects of life in the country compared to life in Baldur’s Gate took them far. She refilled their wine twice, eventually just leaving the bottle within arm’s reach on the floor. Geraldus had relaxed enough to mirror her pose and lean back on his elbow; she brought her feet up on the bed to curl into a comfortable shape beside him.

Perhaps sleepiness and the wine were going to her own head…but Geraldus looked prettier by the minute. She watched the rose-petal curve under his lower lip as he spoke, not catching what he was saying. His eyes were more of a pale green than the hazel gold she’d taken them for at first. Or maybe that was just a trick of the candlelight?

As she pondered, she realized that he had grown silent and was watching her face in turn. She'd angled herself closer to him involuntarily while he spoke. They were close enough she could hear the shallow note of his breathing.

“Can I ask you something?” She requested, breaking the quiet. Geraldus nodded.

“Why exactly did you come here tonight? You’re not the usual type,” she added, and touched her fingers to his free hand in an attempt to soften the observation.

“Oh.” Geraldus fiddled with the neck of the wine glass in his hand. “It wasn’t really my idea. Not that—this is nice,” he said in a rush, and she felt his fingers twining up through hers on the bedspread. “Not like I expected.”

She cocked her head. “Did you expect me to eat you up?” Not a bad idea, she thought, glancing over the lines of his body under his jerkin.

“No!” He blurted out in surprise. “Maybe? I don’t know…it just happened so fast. Entharl pushed me out the doors before I knew where I was. Said I was too gloomy for usual company,” he added, looking down at his boots. 

So that confirmed her earlier suspicions. Harpers may be discreet, but it was hard to miss things when you worked down the street from what was almost certainly one of their safehouses. Which meant poor Geraldus must have been sent here tonight for comforting as much as pleasuring.

“Have you had a bad day?” She asked gently.

His large eyes met hers with a long look. For a moment, he almost seemed close to tears. “Bad week,” he answered.

She brushed the back of his hand with her thumb. “Would you like to talk about it?”

Vehemently, he shook his head at her.

“What would you like to do then, Geraldus? You can tell me.”

“I don't know…I’m not sure.” His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard. “Can I kiss you?”

In answer, she took the wine glass from his hand and set it at the foot of the bed beside her own. Then she reclined parallel to him, tilting her face up in an open offer.

Without another word, he leaned down to press his lips to hers. He trembled slightly against her, whether from nerves or from a more sober emotion she couldn’t tell. She brought a hand up to his hair regardless, smoothing and tucking the dark waves back behind one lightly pointed ear.

Their lips slid together softly like that for a long moment. Eventually she felt Geraldus relaxing against her mouth. But his frame still hovered over her, as if he wasn’t sure where to put his weight.

Without breaking the kiss, she guided his far arm to her side. Though she’d placed it there herself, the feel of his large palm pressing against her waist stirred a pleasant warmth in her belly. She clasped both hands behind his neck, encouraging him to lean down further over her while they kissed.

When he left his lips parted for a few seconds, she took the chance to gently touch her tongue to his. Geraldus made a soft, eager sound against her, returning the gesture with enthusiasm. His mouth was warm and sweet and tasted of rich Amnian wine.

While kissing him was lovely, she was increasingly curious to know how else she might take this poor boy’s mind off his apparent troubles. When she pulled away, Geraldus’s face trailed after hers as though reluctant to end the kiss.

“Would you like me to kiss you anywhere else, darling?”

Geraldus blinked down at her, perhaps thrown by the pet name. “Where else is there?”

It brought a laugh from her, and she curled her fingers through the dark locks behind his neck. “You really don’t know how this works, do you.”

His eyes widened with a nervousness that only confirmed her suspicions. 

“I've been with a woman before,” he answered defensively. 

“Oh?” She continued petting his hair, keeping her tone light and unteasing. “Have you been kissed other places, then? By men or women?”

From there, it was easy to suss out the exact limits of his experience. It came as no shock that no one had ever put their lips anywhere but his mouth. Not his neck, his chest, his cock—that last fact she withheld her kisses from him until he admitted, flushing profusely right up to his dark hair all the while. 

She found herself speaking more plainly than usual. “Geraldus, first I’d like to help you out of these clothes. Then I’d like to suck you off before I ride you. How does that sound?”

That had most certainly broken him. He stammered and blushed somehow darker; she could practically feel the heat radiating off his face above hers.

Finally, he managed a breathless response of “yes, please.”

She drew his lips in against hers again as she went to work. She felt him reach a hand to the buckles under his side, but she was already springing them open on both right and left.

“How do you know—” He began, impressed, before quieting as the realization hit him. She slid the leather pieces up over his head and leaned in to give him a quick, enthusiastic kiss. When his linen tunic followed, she kept him held back for a moment with a hand splayed over his sternum.

Gods damn, but they grew them right back in Greenfields. 

Geraldus was broad-shouldered and lean, with firm bands of muscle beneath the pale skin of his arms and chest and stomach. From the sinews in his forearms and the strong cut of his shoulders, she guessed he handled a longbow quite often.

As her eyes raked over him with open appreciation, she caught sight of a shining scar across his left side. Young he may be, but his body already bore evidence of his chosen profession. She reached to brush down the line of it with her fingers; Geraldus shivered but tilted slightly into her hand.

“Didn’t get that shepherding,” she observed.

“No,” Geraldus agreed. He licked his lips again—the gesture was much more intriguing combined with shirtlessness. She hooked her thumbs over the waist of his pants in suggestion.

“Wait,” he requested, his gentle voice trembling again. She watched his eyes moving over the curves under her thin robe. “Can I?”

She leaned back and stretched her arms up over the pillows, arching her back in invitation. 

Slowly and deliberately, as if unwrapping an expensive gift, his fingers reached for the tie at her waist. She watched with satisfaction as he drew the garment open to each side to expose the bare length of her body. His lips parted in admiration as he took her in.

“Can I touch you?” Geraldus asked in a whisper.

“Anywhere you like,” she assured him.

To her delight, Geraldus fell over her and began eagerly exploring her chest with his lips. When his hot mouth closed over the hard peak of one breast, she hummed in approval and ran her nails up through his long hair. It seemed to encourage him; his calloused palm moved to cup the other.

“Tonight’s for you, darling,” she reminded him lazily, not really in a hurry to interrupt him.

He responded between hungry swirls of his tongue. “I’d kiss you here if you’d let me,” he said, and his hand actually slid from her breast to land boldly above the apex of her thighs.

“Absolutely not,” she laughed against his brow. “Gods, you’re unbelievable—how dare those Harpers keep you hidden away so long? Sure you don’t have a little sweetheart in Rivington?”

“Of course not—” There was a wet sound as he released her breast to stare up at her, wide-eyed. “I wouldn’t be here if—if I was—”

She clasped his jaw in a hand to kiss him again, drowning out whatever earnest response he was trying to make to her teasing. “If you’re very, very good tonight, I’ll sit on your pretty face. How about that?”

“Gods,” he groaned, and that pretty face landed between her breasts. “Would you?”

She looked down at him quizzically. “You honestly want to, don’t you?”

His cheeks flushed a deep pink. “Yes,” he admitted.

“As long as you’re a good boy, then,” she told him. With a firm shove, she sent him sitting back on his heels at the end of the bed. “Now take off your pants, Geraldus.”

He scrambled to obey, kicking off his boots before his fingers fumbled at the laces of his trousers. She lay back and watched him with genuine anticipation. From the size of the tent straining at his front, she already suspected that the gods had given to him with both hands.

And what a delightful bit of justice in a harsh world—for young Harper Geraldus to be blessed with such a big cock.

His impressive length stood stiff at attention, skin a lovely smooth pink—and the size of him. Not the biggest she'd had, but much closer than his blushing shyness had led her to believe.

She crooked one finger at him where he stood in a come-hither motion. He crawled up the bed eagerly, but she shifted away to the side at the last minute. “On your back,” she directed him. 

Geraldus obeyed again, his tall frame collapsing into the pillows as he watched her shuck the robe all the way back off her shoulders. She curled up into his side, tracing a finger down the firm, fair planes of his chest and stomach. He shivered under her touch.

Then her fingers closed gently around his base—barely fitting a third of his length in her grip. She pumped him a few slow times from base to tip. It would require most of her creativity to take him, either with her mouth or her cunt.

But if anyone deserved both, it was the young man currently squirming and whining in her bed. She could tell Geraldus was struggling to quell the instinct to thrust up faster into her grip. No doubt trying to be good enough to earn what she’d promised, judging by the way his wide eyes were fixed in anticipation on her face. She clenched her thighs together at the thought of having his eager mouth between them.

“I can see why no one’s put lips to your cock before,” she mused, enjoying the way his dark brows screwed up just from the unhurried strokes of her hand.

“W-why?” His tenor had shot up to a strained pitch. She loosened her grasp completely—it would be too easy to finish him like that.

“You’ve got enough to choke on,” she told him, and climbed between his legs. “But don’t worry, I’m quite good at this.”

Before he could clear his expression from its jumbled mixture of shock and hope, she leaned to take his tip softly over her tongue.

His body made a sharp jackknife at the waist, and Geraldus let out a word much filthier than she expected. But she was ready for his physical reaction—the weight of her forearms on his hips kept them firmly planted into the mattress.

She slid her mouth over him, relaxing her jaw to take him all the way to the back of her throat before releasing everything but the very tip of his cock. She continued the motion several times until saliva trickled down the rest of his length. Then she returned her hand to his base, twisting her grip to meet her lips with each motion.  

She took him just like that, giving attention to his full length, relishing the way his smooth tip bumped the back of her throat with each thrust. He whimpered and begged incoherently above her at the sensations of her mouth and hand taking him in tandem. Could he already be as close as he sounded?

Just as the thought occurred, she felt his legs tense on either side of her own. Almost disappointed, she instantly slid her mouth off him with a wet kiss of release. 

Geraldus made a sound like a sob at the absence. When she glanced up, there were actual tears pricking at the corners of his dark eyelashes.

“Dearest,” she murmured up to him. It was far too tempting to apologize to that face; she placed nipping kisses along his thighs instead. “You deserve to feel my cunt first, don't you think?”

“Yes,” he groaned, obviously trying to master the strain in his voice. It suddenly seemed like a very good time to reward his patience.

“Be a good boy and slide down,” she urged him, already moving up around his straining erection on her knees to straddle his waist.

That brought a spark of hope to his eyes. Geraldus frantically gripped her torso for leverage, tugging her bodily up the bedcovers as he somehow nudged each of his broad shoulders through the gap in her legs. As he settled her above him, he stared up at the slick view between her thighs like a penitent.

“Smack me twice if you can’t breathe,” she told him, giving his dark locks a teasing pull to try and get his attention. The way he nodded left her unconvinced he’d heard.

Deciding he looked ready enough, she lowered herself firmly over his waiting mouth.

For all his obvious inexperience, the instant heat and enthusiasm of his tongue was a pleasant start. Her eyelashes fluttered in satisfaction as he painted firm strokes up her folds, just barely reaching her peak.

“Good,” she praised with a sigh. “Higher—”

He listened attentively despite wearing her thighs clasped around the delicate points of his ears. His hands rose to her hips as he angled his mouth higher, finally hitting the spot where she needed him most. Her toes curled where they were pressed over his biceps.

He was completely unpracticed, but he had good enough instincts to keep the pace steady as she rocked herself against his face. She imagined his hips bucking uselessly into the air behind her, desperate to wet his neglected cock in the folds his tongue was parting.

“Pretty Geraldus,” she sighed, her hand a fist in his dark hair, trying to keep her wits about her as she felt a twitching climax build at her core. “Shall I come on your tongue?”

His eyes flew wide between her legs. In answer, strong forearms gripped tighter over each of her thighs, holding her down onto the now-frantic lapping of his tongue over her slit. She closed her eyes and arched her back against him, giving way to the heat of his mouth desperately sucking and licking her closer to the edge.

With one last tug on his hair, she shuddered against him and rode out her orgasm over his tongue. She felt a gush of arousal from her center flow out over his lips. Geraldus moaned something against her flesh, but the words dissolved into a hum that ran straight to her core and reverberated as another shiver of pleasure up her spine.    

With effort, she pushed herself back to sit on his chest, freeing his arms. Geraldus gasped for air slightly, but his expression was drunk with pleasure and a bit of pride. His mouth and chin were painted wet with her arousal.

“Such a good boy,” she purred in praise. “Getting me ready to take that big cock of yours—” Before he could respond, she reached to swipe her thumb along the wet line of his jaw, then nudged at the juncture of his lips.

He understood immediately, obediently sucking her finger into his mouth and cleaning her release off with his tongue. She felt his hips rocking involuntarily behind her.

With a smooth shift of her weight, she landed with her bare chest pressed to his and pushed her wet slit back against the top of his cock.

“Oh,” Geraldus whined above her, and his beautiful eyes squeezed shut at the feeling. She continued slicking her folds up and down his length to wet him, all the while watching the way his face screwed up as if pained. His fingers flew to grip around hers where they lay over his ribs. 

It was difficult enough to line up her opening with his cock from this angle—let alone while having both hands held hostage under his own. Using his firm stomach as leverage, she pushed up to straddle him against her and then sank down. It seated the tip of him perfectly inside her. 

Just that first stretch was delicious. Geraldus seemed to feel the same; his hands released hers, instead landing on her hips with an enthusiastic squeeze. But he panted obediently under her, eyelids still shut tight, waiting for her to take him further.

Little by little, she eased herself down onto each inch of him, her jaw falling slack as he stretched her walls to their limit. Finally her hips landed to slot against his own. 

She stayed there for a moment, relishing the utter fullness of having his cock entirely buried within her. The ache at her opening was slowly tipping from a twinge of pain to a throb of pleasure.

But she wouldn’t be able to ride him from this angle. Instead, she leaned forward to grasp his strong shoulders and braced her arms straight against them. “Geraldus, look at me.”

His eyes fluttered open then, and landed on her face where it hovered above his. She took in his parted lips, the aquiline line of his nose, the youthful smoothness of his brow marred by a pleading wrinkle as he waited for her to move. And his expressive eyes, which she now decided with certainty were a pretty shade of hazel—currently traveling over her face as if trying to read her thoughts. 

“You are the loveliest man,” she told him with utter sincerity. And I’m going to fuck you until you forget everything but my cunt.

With his eyes still on her, she slid her hips up and back down over his length. A guttural, breathy sound rose straight from his chest. She continued working him in and out of her tight wetness, finding a slow but steady pace that was just barely past the edge of teasing for both of them.

“Oh, Gods—” His hands spasmed against her hips, as if he wanted to bounce her faster on him but wasn’t sure whether it was permitted.

She took the cue herself. She ground her hips into his at a more brisk clip—and bit her lip hard at the sensation of his tip knocking deep inside her with each thrust. At this angle and pace, he filled her to the point of incoherence.

After being taken up to the edge of release by her mouth, she could tell Geraldus was already close again. When her fingers brushed up over his hard nipples, he let out a shuddering whine of pleasure. His hard length twitched against her walls.

At once, she slowed to grind her hips into him, relishing the pressure of his hard cock filling her so fully. He panted at yet another denial, and she felt his calloused fingertips digging into the flesh of her hips. Geraldus gazed up at her with a plea for more.

“Have you been good enough to come in me?” She studied his face unhurried, admiring the way his fair brow screwed up in anguish and pleasure at the question. “What do you think, darling?”

“Yes,” he begged, too sweet to know he was strong enough to fuck her at whatever pace he wanted, even from this angle. “Please, yes, I have—”

She splayed her fingers across his chest, rocking herself deeper atop him. “Ask me for it.”

“Please,” he whined prettily, his eyes shining with tears again. “Please, please, I’ve been good, I swear—Gods, let me come inside you, please—”

He was so earnest, so beyond desperate, it would be unthinkably cruel to deny him. She leaned both hands back on his thighs and rode him hard, using the angle to drive his cock into her center again and again. Stars swelled across her vision; each thrust sent his considerable length pounding against the limits of her insides. She closed her eyes against another rush of pleasure to her core, listening to the sweet way Geraldus whimpered her name.

Large palms pressed hard against her lower back—the angle of him shifted inside her as he leaned up to muffle his sounds into the skin of her breast. Then his arms and legs shuddered as he released inside her, spilling and twitching against her walls. She rode him out through it, as best she could with the way he clutched her to him, wanting him to feel every last scrap of pleasure.

Her own climax hit her like the snap of a bowstring. She found her arms clenching around his shoulders for balance, as if she might tumble away on the wave that rushed through her body. 

Geraldus supported her firmly, sweet thing that he was, holding her tight despite the way his own limbs trembled.

After a while of him holding her straddled on his lap, the pressure between her legs turned to an ache. She stifled a wince as she shifted to slide off him. Even his softening length was a stretch for her tender and likely now bruised insides. She chided herself for riding him so enthusiastically before—she knew better than that. 

As she began to pull away further, Geraldus clutched his arms tight around her back.

“We just need a towel,” she explained, turning to kiss the tip of his ear. “Did you think I was leaving?”

“No,” he lied, growing sheepish again, but his arms loosened to let her up.

She returned with a soft cloth for each of them. He reached for one, but she knelt beside the bed to neatly clean him. Even now, he was still too green to grasp exactly how this all worked.

And the mess between her own legs could wait; by now his release had already dripped out of her to generously coat her thighs.

Once they were both tidy, she rose to her feet and smoothed back a stray lock of his hair. “Would you like me to draw you a bath?”

Geraldus shook his head, looking up at her with sleepy affection.

“Would you like to go to bed, then?”

His eyes filled with innocent delight. “I can stay?”

She considered telling him that after the sum his keepers had no doubt paid, he could do a great many more things with her. But it might be nice to surprise him with that in the morning. 

Instead, she raked her fingers through his hair and tilted his face up for a soft kiss. “Of course, darling.”

She moved on rather unsteady legs to snuff all the candles, then helped guide him under the covers through the dark. 

When it came to sleeping, she didn’t usually care to share her bed with others. Tonight she found herself in an unusually generous mood. Geraldus was long-limbed and full of wiry muscle, yet every bit as gentle as a lamb. 

As she settled herself under the blankets, he notched his face up against her shoulder and rested an arm securely across her middle. She leaned her cheek against his dark hair like a pillow. The feel of being weighed down by his body against her side was comforting in a way she didn’t expect.

“I love you,” Geraldus abruptly sighed against her neck.

She let out a sleepy breath of laughter that ruffled the locks of his hair. 

“No you don’t,” she told him gently, and pressed a kiss to his brow. “You just really, really needed that.”

[aviradasa]

Drunk Dancin

Elliott (Sdv) X reader

(art from Pinterest)

This was so fun to write I hope you all enjoy! I got kinda lazy towards the end Sorry it's been awhile sense I've had inspo so this might be bad. Also I didn't proof read this shit🤣🖤

It had been a rough day on the farm, the crops were dying due to the change in season, the animals were grumpy even though they had plenty to eat and space to wander, And then to top it off the mines nearly killed me, and now I grumpily stumble to the stardrop saloon.

It's a busy night for the tiny bar. Friday nights are always like that, groups and sad lonely souls gather there to drink, sing, and stumble out sometime past midnight every Friday without fail.

As I make my way inside I see it's still relatively quiet. I walk up to the bar nodding my head to Pam who sits at her usual corner.

“Hey kid you're looking rough, what happened this time?” she asks, turning her head to me with a slight chuckle as she takes a sip of her beer. I look at her with a sigh as I slump over the bar lazily grabbing my drink and sliding it closer to me. “Oh, you know the same old shit. Crops are assholes, and my animals and the creatures in the mines want me dead.” I say lifting my cup to my lips and downing half of my drink before lowering my glass. “It’s been fun,” I say giving her a sarcastic smile.

“Jesus kid you outta slow down there wont be any good tomorrow if you're sloshed,” she says with a grin. I look at her with a raised eyebrow before I can respond. She laughs. “I’m just kidding, the best cure for a shitty day is a drink. If I had any extra cash I would buy you one outta pity but well I'm kinda runnin’ a little short for my tab as is so.. Don’t tell Gus,” she tells me with a wink, I let out a little chuckle. “ Your secrets are safe with me,” I tell her before downing the rest of my drink and calling Gus over for another, which he gladly sells me before I get up from the bar and wander to a table neatly nested in the corner. I sit down and after a few minutes, I see my good friend Leah wander into the saloon collecting her drink from the bar. She wandered to the table next to me. “ well hey their Y/n what are you up to tonight.”She asks as she pulls out her seat to sit down.

I look up at her with a grin holding up my drink. “Girl I’m drinking in hopes I don't wake up tomorrow sober!” I tell her as we both laugh. “ Jeez Y/n what the hell did you do now, don't you tell me you passed out in those mines again!” she jokes with a grin on her face as she takes a sip of her beer.

“Hey now I didn't pass out, but I got too damn close to those rock crabs are the devil.'' I shake my head as I chuckle. “ They keep sneaking up on me and by the time I see one of those things there are 3 more behind me.” I say Leah just laughs “Sounds like you need to buy some armor or something if you gonna keep going down there-” she starts to say before a new voice unintentionally cuts her off.

“Good evening Leah,y/n how are you both tonight?” the person says, looking towards the voice we see Elliott. I was starting to wonder where he was normally earlier. “ hey El where were you? You're a bit later than usual.” I ask the redhead. He just chuckles and takes a seat in between the two tables. “Well, you know how I was having a dry spell of inspiration? Well, I don't know What hit me but today I was able to get 3 chapters done in my novel! I was so caught up in it that I didn't even realize the whole day had run away from me. I feel so alive at the moment!” he tells us excitedly. For the past week, Elliott has been talking about how he had no clue what to write in this book of his, it was kind of sad to see him so upset, but now he's happy and inspired again! Don't get me wrong is amazing, I'm happy for him and even happier that he's so much more enthusiastic and optimistic now, but I just wish he was like this 3 days ago. Because now his joy is feeling a bit suffocating. Or maybe that's just because of my shitty day.

Even so, I sit there and listen to him excitedly explaining some plot twist he wanted to add to a future chapter.

As he speaks I can't help but tune into the music playing from the jukebox. It's decently loud but not enough to give you a headache and the songs playing are mostly from the 70’s and 80's. I guess Gus has decent musical taste! Who knew?

About an hour has passed and our little trio has had our fair share of drinks. We sit there joking around for a little longer before Leah thinks it might be a good idea to pull Elliott and me up to dance. “Leah I don’t know how fuckin to dance??” I slur as she pulls me up. She groans “Come on don't be lame let all just dance! I bet you can do it! Elliott, don't you think they can do it too??” she asks him. Elliott being a little less than drunk more on the tipsy side just laughs.

“ You know I think they can! Go on, go dance, you can do it,” he says, giving me a slight push. Without thinking I grab onto his hand and spin around to face him. “You know what! I’ll go if you come with us.”

Telling him to come with us was the worst thing to say ever.

Cause he was an amazing dancer with a couple of drinks under his belt. And he looked divine doing it. His red suit jacket had been long forgotten on the back of his chair, his long red hair was put up messily in a bun and he was dancing like he should have been on a stage.

He swayed and spun, stumbled once or twice, and laughed with us when we pointed it out to him. It was a beautiful thing to witness, but he didn't take my focus away completely, as Leah and I had been spinning around together, jumping up and down bobbing our heads to the beat as we stumbled and laughed.

As we dance my head starts to spin, dizziness overcoming every aspect of my mind and vision almost knocking me down. But as I stumble, a hand grabs my wrist from behind and spins me around full circle. As I nearly fall forward the person's other hand finds its way to my waist pulling me towards them, my back hits their chest and I hear a laugh. “I can see you've been having fun, you should be more careful, you just never know who you'll stumble into.”

Recognizing the voice, a dopey grin creeps onto my face as I turn my head to look at the culprit.

And just as I guessed it was Elliott standing behind me with an oddly placed smirk on his face. Seeing him sobers me up a little bit in the best way possible.

“ Well now you're the one who grabbed me, I could have stumbled my way into anyone I like. you just happened to be quick about it.” I said with a giggle as I spun around one more to the beat of the song playing. Now facing him as we move around the dancefloor.

“Yes, well. Ah, what can I say i can't think of a good excuse at the moment. I’ve wanted to dance with you for quite some time, And when I saw you had wandered out of Leah's grasp well. I suppose you can call me somewhat of an opportunist.” he says as we both let out a laugh

“ Well, I can’t say I'm complaining that you took that opportunity.” I wink “Nothing against Leah she's quite a good dancer.”

“Better than me?” Elliott says with a joking tone. “Definitely,” I responded with a grin. He places a dramatic hand on his chest as he tries to flip his hair forgetting it's put up at the moment “I’m hurt, I thought I was better than that.” he jokes. A small chuckle escapes me at the gesture before the night goes on and blurs together, not in the sense that I don't remember more like that of a watercolor painting when the colors bleed into one another as we had dancing in a wave of color that turns into something else entirely.

The door of the saloon swung open as we exited, we were one of the last few folks leaving. Leah had left about an hour prior leaving us to our fun, not without saying goodbye first. Waving goodnight to Gus, me and Elliott make our way to the town square. Stopping I turn to him with a tired look “Are you sure you wanna walk me home? It's getting pretty late.'' I asked him. It's not like the walk to the farm is long but for him to walk all the way there and then to the beach is quite the trek even with shortcuts it can take quite a while. “Of course. I'm not gonna let you walk home alone at this hour. It wouldn't be right, especially after the drinks you had earlier.” he tells me with a grin i gaze at him skeptically. Looking him up and down.

Even after the long night he looks surprisingly put together in a semi-messy way, his hair is still put up in that messy bun from earlier but now some more strands are pulled out some of them sticking to his face after the night of dancing, his white dress shirt was wrinkled now and his red coat was lazily thrown over his shoulder. Even so, his posture was still surprisingly straight though he was very slightly hunched over but it was kinda hard to notice. After a few moments, I shrugged my shoulders “Well if you insist.”I told him.

“Oh, I insist” he smiles, turning to the side he offers me his arm. I laugh a bit and take it “Trying to pull the gentlemen card tonight Elliott?” I joke as we make our way past the little garden turning the corner to make our descent down the pathway that leads to my farm. “ I don't need to pull a card. It's just who I am,” he says, his voice a bit smoother than before. Making a little heat rise to my face. I thank the dark shadows of the night for shielding the small details from his view. Damn, that silver tongue of his. I think to myself before I remember to respond “Whatever you say El.” I chuckle looking straight ahead of us. The air is cool as we walk but not uncomfortable in the slightest. It is more of a calming breeze that floats past us picking up the smell of some of the freshly bloomed spring flowers with a slight smell of rain from the previous day. I feel as though I could never tire of the night air, And to admit walking with the man that's haunted my dreams each night just adds that little bit more to it that makes it hard for me to remember that it's real.

“Well, here we are.” I hear Elliott mumble pulling me out of my thoughts. I didn’t even realize we had walked up the steps to my front porch. “ thank you so much, Elliott.'' I smile warmly at him as I release his arm from my hold. “ It was really sweet of you to walk me home tonight. And also thank you for the fun night you and Leah provided me with.” I told him.

“It's always a pleasure, and I would do it again any time any place,” he responds with a nod. a small grin gracing his features. A few moments pass before he decides to speak once more

“ Well I suppose it's getting quite late and I wouldn't want to keep you up too late so I guess I'll be going now,” he says hesitantly. I bow my head with a smile before opening my door a small bit of confidence overcoming me as I get i silly idea

“ Well, it's not that late, how about you come inside for a moment and grab some tea before you go?”

“ that. Would be lovely. As long as you don't mind.” he says taking a step inside my home.

“ I don't mind, I offered,” I responded with a laugh closing the door behind us as I went to heat the kettle. It was a small offer but it was a night neither of us would forget for a long time.

[ourloveisforthelovely]

Hangover Cures (one shot)

Regulus Black AU

Summary:  After a night out drinking, Regulus has his own hangover cures.

Pairings: Regulus Black x Reader

Rating: Mature- smut

_______

It was a Saturday morning and the happy sounds of birds chipping pulled you from your peaceful slumber. Yawning, you sat up and rubbed your eyes. As everything came into focus, you realized that Regulus wasn’t in bed with you.

Strange, he said that he would be home by midnight.

Getting out of bed, you walked down the hallway and into the living room. You stopped when you realized that Regulus had, in fact, made it home. He had only fallen asleep on the couch… half-naked. You raised an eyebrow as your eyes looked down at his half-naked body. The poor boy looked like he had managed to get his shirt off before just crawling on the couch and calling it a night.

You quietly walked over to the couch and gently tapped Regulus’ shoulder.

“Love, why don’t you come to get in bed? You don’t look comfortable at all.”

Regulus half yawned and muttered something that was muffled by the pillow.

“Regulus, wake up. Your neck is going to be hurting and I will never hear the end of it.”

You said, a little more loudly. Regulus opened one eye and looked at you a moment before reaching out and pulling you onto the couch with him. You shrieked at first, totally not expecting his action.

“Regulus, I swear god…”

“Don’t swear to him. We aren’t having any problems.”

Regulus said, before shooting you a little smirk. You rolled your eyes and tried to move to snuggle down against his side.

“Why don’t you just get up and go to bed? Clearly, you are half-wasted. How did you get home anyway?”

You asked as Regulus yawned.

“Evan, I don’t know how nor do I want to know. I feel fine though. I would feel better if you sat on my face.”

Your eyes widened your core instantly began to crave any attention that Regulus would give you.

“Regulus, did you really just…”

“I want you to sit on my face and make me feel better.”

Regulus replied before taking your hand and putting it on his hard cock. Biting your lip, you pressed your thighs together.

“Regulus, how can you even think of that when you are possibly hungover.”

Regulus opened both eyes before slipping his hand between your legs. Just as he suspected, you were wet.

“We are good at morning sex. It’s morning and licking your twat will make me feel even better. So, what do you say, princess? I mean, we don’t have to but you are pretty wet.”

Regulus was pleased when you quickly got off of the couch and shed your silk robe.

“That’s what I thought.”

Regulus replied in a haughty tone. You meanwhile, shook your head as you slowly positioned yourself on top of your lover.

“And you are a cocky shit”

You grumbled. Regulus chuckled before licking his lips. This was what he would wake up to every morning. As much as he enjoyed sex, he enjoyed spending his time with his face shoved between your legs. Regulus often teased you that you had the most beautiful pussy that he had ever seen. When you rolled your eyes and told him to fuck off, he would reply with “Well, it is…why don’t you think that I can’t get enough?”

Regulus let his eyes roll up to your face before licking the entire length of your slit. When you lightly gasped, Regulus continued to lightly explore with his tongue.

“Reggie, it feels so good.”

You sighed as he began to pay attention to your clit. He gently sucked at your clit a for a moment before shoving his face right back in. Regulus took a few breaths to glance up at your face.

“Of course, she has that look on her face. No other man would be able to make her come as I can.”

Regulus thought before reaching out to place his hands on your ass and push your body further onto him. Your head fell back as you tried to think of anything to stop yourself from coming. Regulus knew exactly how to touch you to make you come apart. Whether it was something simply like fingering you in the kitchen to your current position practically fucking his perfect face.

“I’m so close.”

You whimpered as Regulus licked up your clit. He pressed a kiss to the top of your mound before lying his head backward.

“Hurry up and come so I can take you to bed and get my cock wet.”

Regulus gave you a raised eyebrow scowl before going right back to attacking your clit. One more gentle nibble was all it took to send you spiraling over the edge.

As you recovered from your orgasm, Regulus maneuvered his way to standing. He tightened his arms around your body and started toward the bedroom.

“Come on, love, I need some loving.”

_____

@amelie-black @jessyballet @knreidy1 @fific7 @justfinishthis @georgeweasleydumbhoe @siriuslyceleste @criminalyetminimal @teletubiswszpilkach @mimisparkle12 @goldendustwomann @littleshadow17 @jsjcue @bxcndd @livshifts @stelleduarte @millies0bsimp @coffeeaddictednymph @readtomeregulus @saramaple @missgorldafirst @i-love-scott-mccall @s-we-e-t-t-ea @buttercup-beeee @f4iryluvy @taylor-will-be-the-death-of-me @panpride @bennyberry @gugggu6gvai @mentally-unstable-hoe @yousmellllikecaca @haroldpotterson @quinis @daddyslittlevillain @jag9000 @goldensunshineshit @aurorasnape12 @ad-astra-again @dumybitch @marichromatic @ravenhood2792 @play-morezeppelin @spideyxalmighty @lucasfilms77 @rubyroscoe1 @lostarc24 @brokencasbutt67-writer @authoressskr @moldy-old-boot @hankypranky @summer-novak @shaylybaby2032 @emiwrites3reads @knight-of-gleefulness @deanwherescas @sprnaturallover @wontlookaway @shitfaceddaniel-blog @li0nh34rt @tas898 @untoldshortsofthefandoms @mycuddlycorner

[mushyblushyredhead]

Cure For a Bad Day—MCU

No thots. Just a silly fluffy Irondad thought I had to turn into a story. :3 If you don’t like, don’t read. But if you’re here for Irondad fluff or just fluffy Marvel tickles, then come on in! OvO

Word Count: 5,000

Summary: After a rough week of school mishaps, Peter starts to doubt his future at being a good student and even being Spider-Man. It’s up to Tony Stark to remind Peter he’s still worth it, and bring back his mentor’s favorite smile. (This is a tickle fic duh, purely platonic)

Lee! Peter

Ler! Tony

If there was one thing Peter Parker was good at, was multitasking. How many other teens could juggle the responsibilities of high school while fighting crime almost every night in the not-so-friendly-neighborhood, and still manage to finish their homework on time for the next day?

Somehow he was able to do both.

But like any other student, he had his challenges. Like today, for example. Peter was in the middle of trying to finish a lab report essay for chemistry class. He was pretty stressed out, as he hadn’t had so much time to work on it for the past three weeks stopping midnight crimes and shenanigans almost four nights a week.

Now, here he was, hunched over at his desk, typing away at his laptop attempting to finish his lab report that was due tomorrow. He was mid-paragraph, stuck on page three out of the required five.

Normally, Peter would rack his science loving brain and throw something together quick, but tonight was different. He was having trouble figuring out more words and what to say in the report.

His eyes were starting to hurt from staring at his computer screen so long. His spine ached from being hunched over like a shrimp in his chair for hours. And his stomach growled; he had skipped dinner and was insistent with himself that he could have time to eat after he got his report done.

He looked at his bedside clock. 10:37pm. Oh come on! I’ll have to go to bed soon and I’m not even close to being done.

Peter sighed. Sometimes, his full time job being Spider-Man could really put a dent into his student life.

There was a knock at his door. “Peter? You alright?” the soft voice of his Aunt asked.

“I’m okay, Aunt May,” Peter stifled a yawn. “Just finishing up homework.”

“You said you were finishing up two hours ago.”

“Well this time, I mean it. I am almost done.”

“Alright if I come in?”

“Yeah. Go ahead.”

The sight of her tired, stressed, hunched over nephew saddened May. “Oh, Peter, you’ve been at that science report of yours all afternoon. Why not call it a night and get some rest?”

“I can’t,” Peter’s eyes stayed glued to his screen. The blinking curser that sat there unmoving for hours seemed to mock him. “I have to finish this tonight. This thing is worth a lot of my grade this semester.”

“Hmm, okay how about this?” May offered. “I’ll let you knock off school tomorrow, and send a note to your teachers that you’re out sick. It’ll give you an extra day to finish your report.” Her lips ruled into a soft grin. “Maybe after that, you and I can head off to the mall and buy you some more of those Squishables things you secretly like.”

Normally, Peter would laugh and jokingly say what a bad influence she was letting him cut school like that. But tonight, he didn’t even crack a smile. “No thanks. I’ll get this done before I go to sleep. Shouldn’t be much longer.”

Aunt May saw that tonight would be one of those nights where Peter wouldn’t budge out of his zombie induced state. So she decided to let him be. “Alright then,” she sighed. “Just please don’t stay up past midnight. I don’t want to get another phone call saying you slept through class and other kids decided to draw on your face.”

“Yeah, will do.”

And with that, she shut the door.

Peter rubbed his eyes with a sigh. “C’mon…c’mon…gotta finish. Ugh! Why can’t I finish?” The teen was just about to give up and call it quits when the hairs on the back of his neck and arms stood out on end. His Spidey tingle was going off!

Despite feeling achy and sluggish, he quickly stood up and tore off his clothes, slipping into his Spider-Man costume. He pulled his mask over his face and was about to jump out the window when he stopped himself.

Aunt May might come back to check if I really did go to sleep. Dang it! Ok uhh…oh wait! That’ll work!

Peter grabbed some day old clothes off the floor and shoved them under his blanket, pushing them into a sort of Peter-shaped lump. Hopefully, if his aunt came to check on him she wouldn’t look too closely.

Grabbing his phone, he hopped off the windowsill and swung out into the night.

By the time Peter managed to sneak back into his room through the window, he was exhausted. He felt like he was about to pass out as soon as he stepped into his bedroom.

He flopped onto his bed, lifting his Spidey mask off his sweaty face. He didn’t have the energy to take off his costume just yet. He was so tired.

He had stopped a home break-in coordinated by three criminals. Normally, a crime like a break-in was child’s play to Peter. But after spending the whole week fighting off crime and running on four hours of sleep, and topped with the stress of his recent assignment, Spider-Man suddenly didn’t have the energy to do a lot of fighting tonight.

His web-shooting was uncoordinated, one punch nearly knocked him out, and he appeared to be wobbly when he landed.

Even the criminals seemed to noticed how he wasn’t putting much of a fight, and taunted him while having their weapons pointed at the sleepy hero.

Peter barely managed to stop those three criminals, and earned himself a bruise on his jaw and knee. So by the time the boy made it home, the clock read 1:55am.

Peter wanted to scream in frustration. Well there goes another sleepless night, he thought as he quietly stripped himself out of his Spidey suit and grabbed a T-shirt from his floor pile.

He cringed as his brain calculated the few hours of sleep he would be getting again.

The next day at school turned out to be so much worse. First, Peter was late to his first class due to him sleeping through his many alarms he set for that morning. Next, he ended up forgetting his lunch—and even emergency lunch money—from rushing to get ready earlier. And then, as if that wasn’t enough to put him in a bad mood, he completely forgot about his lab report.

His stomach churned as he heard the teacher announce for everyone to hand in their reports to the front.

“Peter?” The voice of his best friend made him whip around.

“What is it, Ned?”

“What’s up with you?” Ned asked in a hushed whisper. “You look like you haven’t slept in a month, and you’re acting way jittery than normal.” Ned’s eyes widened. “Is it the spider sense?! Is there danger somewhere right now? Do you need me to come up with an excuse so you can get out of here?”

Peter could barely register his friend’s overlapping questions. “No, Ned, I don’t need anything. And it’s not that. I just…” he sighed, burying his face into his sweater covered arms. “Trouble in the neighborhood late at night, and I completely forgot to finish my lab report.”

“What?!” Ned whisper-shouted. “Y’know normally I’d scold you like your aunt does, but you look like you’ve been through enough already.” He put a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Need me to make up some excuse? Save your skin at least a little?”

Peter shook his head miserably. “No point. I’m screwed enough as is here. Total failure.”

“Are you su—“

Their conversation was interrupted by the teacher snapping at them. “Parker? Your report, please.”

Uneasiness filled Peter’s stomach again. It felt borderline nauseous. He slowly walked up to the front desk. “I uh…don’t really have it physically with me right now.” He pointed towards his lab table. “I-It’s on my laptop.”

“Trouble printing it out?” The teacher asked.

“Something like that.” Peter could feel his cheeks growing warm.

The teacher sighed with a head shake. “Well then if you email it to me in the next three minutes, I’ll still give you credit. But next time, Peter, make sure you are able to find a reliable printing source ahead of time when you’re printing your reports. Don’t just try to print them last minute, that’s when these incidents happen.”

“Yes, of course.” Peter swallowed dryly as he shuffled back to his table. His fingers trembled as he opened his laptop, the unfinished pages of his lab report staring back at him. It felt like a punch to the gut. Well…something is better than nothing, right?

After school, the poor exhausted teen wanted nothing more than to go home, face plant onto his bed, and hope his mattress would swallow him up.

He was surprised to see a text message from Happy on his phone screen. Meet at the Avenger’s facility right after school. Your ride is waiting for you out front. New missions are heading your way. :) -Happy

New mission? That perked Peter up a little. At least he could forget about school for the weekend. Sulking in his room would have to wait. Right now, he was curious as to what sort of new mission awaited him at the Avengers’ headquarters!

The car trip didn’t take so much time. It did, however, leave the boy to replay the events that had just happened prior. He slumped in his seat. Suddenly, a new mission with the Avengers didn’t seem to excite him anymore.

Why can’t I just be more responsible? Peter bitterly asked himself. The other Avengers are able to juggle their normal lives and jobs and still manage to fight bad guys all without breaking a sweat. Heck, even Mr. Stark can do it. So why can’t I? *sigh* Am I really that bad of a student? What’s my future going to look like if I can’t even make it through high school?

Ugh! Why is your entire self worth and future determined by one stupid grade?!

Upon arrival, Peter didn’t seem as starry-eyed or ecstatic anymore. At least, that was the noticeable vibe Tony Stark noticed with his young mentee. He, in fact, looked in bad shape. Dark rings circled under his eyes, he looked disheveled like he had been sleeping under a bridge the whole week, and he seemed very anxious. Not the typical anxious-excitement Peter normally projected whenever he heard any mention of a potential new mission.

Tony wrapped an arm around the silently depressed teen. “So how goes it, kid? Survived another week of school?”

Peter scoffed. “Just barely.”

“I hear ya. But hey, cheer up. It looks like a certain web-slinging hero will be tagging along on more serious world-saving missions with the rest of us. Now how’s that upgrade for your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man?”

The boy merely shrugged. “I guess it could be good for my rep. So long as I don’t screw anything up again.”

“Hey, look. You just made a couple mistakes, underoos. It happens to all of us when we’re starting out as heroes. But this a fresh start; a chance to really show the others and the world that your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man protects more than just the neighborhood and supermarkets. He protects the world, too.” He gave Peter’s shoulder a shake.

“Okay,” Peter said with a small sigh. Oh how he wished he could get back to sulking in his room right about now.

Tony started to grow more worried about his mentee that afternoon. He assumed the kid had a bad day at school or was simply tired after a long week, but this seemed much worse.

Peter didn’t go on mini gush-rants about random things. He didn’t spit out any science jokes or puns. He didn’t even quote any old movies. Peter Parker always quoted his vintage iconic quips and lines. It was like his second vocabulary—first vocabulary being talking in only Star Wars lines.

Something was really wrong. And Stark was not going to wait around any longer to find out.

When Tony finally found Peter, he was sitting upside down from the corner of the ceiling, the hood of his sweater almost covering his face, earbuds in and mindlessly scrolling through his phone.

“Peter?”

Said teen took his earbuds out. His gaze softened when he met eyes with his mentor. “Oh, hey Mr. Stark. What brings you here?”

“That’s just what I want to ask you, kid. What are you doing up there by yourself?”

Peter shrugged. “Bored.”

“Bored?! In the freakin’ Avengers’ facility?”

“Well, sorry. Guess I’m just a little too tired today.”

He’s trying to avoid my question, Tony thought. “A better question would be, why have you been moping around since you got here? Happy even said that you were so quiet in the car ride here. No offense, kid, but you’re never the quiet type. Especially around Happy. So what gives?”

The boy averted his game. “Nothing. It’s nothing. Just tired like I said. Y’know, keeping the neighborhood safe almost every night really drains your energy.”

“Cut the charades, kid,” Tony said firmly. “I wanna know what’s up with you. I’ve known you long enough to know that even with your nighttime gig as Spider-Man, you somehow always have enough energy to set Happy’s blood pressure spiraling, and annoy the rest of the Avengers with your weird vine refreshes and those picture things you call memes.”

Peter averted his gaze. How could he tell his mentor and biggest idol all the crappy events that took place that week? It wasn’t like it was a serious topic. It was just his own failure to be responsible.

“I don’t know,” he answered quietly.”

“Hmm…let me guess. Trouble at school?”

Peter looked up.” Maybe?”

“Alright, give me names here. A description of the punk. Who’s organs do I have to obliterate?”

“What? No, no, no, it’s not like that, Mr. Stark,” Peter quickly objected. “It’s just…rough days at school is all. And my student life.”

“I see. Want to come down from there and talk about it? I’ll have Happy make us some hot chocolate.”

“Alright.”

The warm hot chocolate was very comforting. After the long harsh week of events, a hot comforting drink was just what Peter needed. And it helped ease the hesitance he had earlier so he was able to come clean about what had happened.

“Wow,” Tony said, finally breaking the silence. “It sounds like the week really treated you terribly.”

“Tell me about it.” Peter fixed his gaze on his cup.

“Hey, listen, kid. You just had a bad week. Things will get better. You gotta believe that.”

The teen hero frowned. “How do you know I won’t keep failing? I’ve been screwing up nonstop this entire week. And even when I try to do better, everything always turns out worse. It’s like the universe hates me because I’m Spider-Man.”

Before Tony could respond, Peter kept talking. “And its so dumb, too. This whole situation. I’m sitting here whining about something that could’ve been avoidable if I had been a more responsible student. There’s no one to blame but me. And look at you, Mr. Stark. If you were in my shoes, you wouldn’t be a failing student just because you’re Ironman. I just want to do better, but I don’t feel like I can. And I know the school system doesn’t believe I can either.”

“Hey now, don’t say that,” Tony protested. “You’re a brilliant kid, Peter. Yes, you’re going to hit roadblocks along the way with your full time gig as Spider-Man and as a full time student, but you’re going to be fine. You just need a little encouragement. When you’re out there saving the neighborhood and face-to-face with an enemy that makes you feel like it’s hopeless, I’ve noticed that you never back down. No matter how difficult it is. This right here isn’t any different.

And if the crappy school system that’s been putting too much pressure on their students and treating them like garbage doesn’t believe in you, I do. I believe you can do it, Peter. You’re so much stronger than you think you are.”

Peter almost wanted to tear up at the words his mentor was telling him. Damn, he really was good at this inspirational uplifting speech thing. Maybe even better than Captain America.

He couldn’t stop the tears, though. He had been feeling so emotional this entire week and after hearing Tony freakin’ Stark rant about how he was worth it despite everything he was feeling, Peter really needed to let some tears out.

Seeing the boy’s eyes fill with tears made Tony panic. Had he made the kid feel worse with his words? “Oh god, are you alright? Did i go too far with that?”

Peter let out a breathy laugh. “No, no, you’re good.” He sniffed, and wiped his tears with his sweater sleeve. “Sorry I got emotional back there. Your uplifting speech just got me teary-eyed. Thanks, Mr. Stark. I guess I really needed to hear that.”

Tony gave the teen’s shoulder a comforting squeeze. “Anytime, kiddo. Glad I could help. Now, I do want to help out with your school problem a little so you’re not feeling traumatized Monday morning.”

The boy tilted his head like a curious puppy. “Huh? What do you mean help out?”

“Well I sort of did a little research on what your next assignments for the week are going to be on for your classes. And I took the liberty to have FRIDAY complete next week’s assignments so you’ll have the entire week off to not worry about your homework.”

“You…wait, are you saying that you had FRIDAY hack into my teachers’ lesson plans and did all my homework for me?!”

Tony nodded, stirring his half drunk mug with a spoon. “Yup. Your homework’s done with all the right answers so it’ll guarantee to bring your grades back up to an A+.” He paused. “Well, an A- to make it seem like you did it.”

Peter didn’t know if he should feel grateful or disbelief. “I-I…thank you? I guess?”

Tony smirked. “What, that’s it? I do you a favor here so you can have the week off. You can have more time to focus on your web-slinging career, or use the extra time to take a nap in home room, or stare at girls more between classes.”

Peter blushed at that last comment. “Okay, fine. Thank you, Mr. Stark. I really appreciate it.” For the first time that week, Peter smiled. A genuine warm smile. Then his face melted to concern. “Wait…do you think that it’s cheating?”

“Uhh….nah,” Tony assured him with a wave of his hand. “Hey, as long as it gets you the grades you deserve. Besides, you aren’t even going to use 90% of the crap they teach you in school. You’re gonna forget it immediately anyways.”

Peter giggled, covering his mouth with his sleeve. “Oh my god, Mr. Stark. You’re just as a bad influence as May.”

“Good! Maybe you can learn something here about all the shortcuts and loopholes to high school.”

“There are noho loopholes or shortcuhuhuts to high school!”

“Hell yeah there are! How do you think I got to where I am today?” Tony gestured to himself. “You think all of this happened by being a full time student? No way. High school did nothing to help me be who I am today. All it did was give me anxiety, student debt, and unrealistic expectations on what I needed to thrive in the real world. Oh yeah, high school teaches you nothing on how to adult or pay your bills. But hey, at least they teach you that the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell, right?”

Peter could not stop his giggles anymore. His giggles turned to laughter, and even while trying to muffle them through his sleeves, Tony could see the corner of his smile and the blush that dusted his cheeks.

It was always so easy to make the kid laugh, and Tony always liked to take advantage of it every time.

“Y-You’re terrihihible, Mr. Stark!” Peter said through his bright laughter. “A bahahad influence! Y-You’re even worse thahahn Loki!”

“Excuuuuse me?!” Tony pretended to be offended. He sat up, scraping the chair back, which made Peter’s eyes widen in alarm.

“Wait, no!” Peter surprised Tony by flipping onto the ceiling. “Don’t—Don’t tickle me, Mr. Stark!” Peter had had enough recent experience knowing what that look meant every time Tony got up from his seat. Having his own mentor know of his one dreaded weakness—the fact that he was insanely ticklish—and using that to mess with him anytime he got depressed or a little too snarky always flustered him to bits.

Tony grinned up at the spider teen on the ceiling. “Huh? Tickle you? Now why on earth would I do that? Oh right, because your ticklishness got dialed up to eleven from the spider bite. Isn’t that what you told me?”

Peter’s blush darkened. “S-Stop saying that so casually! I now what you’re up to!”

“Hey, I’m not up to anything. And honestly, I wasn’t going to tickle you.” A sinister smirk spread across his mentor’s face. “But since that was the first thought that crossed your mind…”

Peter’s tummy did fluttery flip flops. “Oh c’mon!! Mr. Stark nohoho! Dohohon’t you dare!”

“Too late. FRIDAY, a little help?”

“Yep. On it.”

The poor flustered teen squealed in alarm as one of Tony’s Ironman suits came flying over to him, trying to pry him off the ceiling. It was surprisingly easy, as Peter was already too giggly and flustered to concentrate on his sticking to the ceiling.

With Peter off the ceiling, he was dumped ungracefully onto the floor in front of Tony where the Iron suit immediately grabbed and pinned the kid’s wrists above his head.

“What the—FRIDAY you traitohohor!” Peter squawked. He pulled on his wrists, internally pouting that his spider strength wasn’t working in that moment.

“Hey now, don’t you insult FRIDAY,” Tony playfully scolded with a poke to the boy’s stomach. Peter squeaked at the touch. “We’re just here to help you out. I know how rough it’s been with school lately, and I don’t want to lose my underoos just because of that. You’ve been real upset ever since you got here and I know you’ve been upset all week. So no more of that now. You should know the Avengers’ facility is a no-sadness zone!”

And with that said, Tony right away scribbled both hands into his kid’s belly, making Peter screech.

“EeeAAAHAAaahahaaa! HeHEHE—Heyyyy! No faHAHAhahair!” Peter thrashed and kicked, instinctively trying to pull his arms down to no avail. “Mr. Stahahark! Nohoho pleasHEEAheeheehease!”

“Sorry, no can do, kiddo,” Tony casually answered over his mentee’s squeaky laughter. “I haven’t seen my underoos’ favorite smile in forever so I’m making up for lost time!”

“B-But nohohot like tha—HAAAHA! Heheheyyy!” Peter arched his back as Tony’s fingers crept up to his ribs. His blush now spread to the tips of his ears. He was cursing internally at how his Spidey strength was suddenly no longer there as he was laughing like a maniac.

Any other intense situation, Spider-Man would be able to easily get himself out of, but this was different. The ticklish sensations buzzing throughout his nervous system plus all his laughing was sapping any strength he had left, including his spider strength.

As Tony let his fingers inch closer to the teen’s underarms, he was playfully shocked when Peter tried to bite him. He pulled his hands back with a gasp.

“Whoa! What the heck was that?! What are you, a biting tarantula now?”

“You were getting too close to my armpits!” Peter shot back.

“Ohhhh I see.” Tony flashed him an evil grin that reminded Peter of that creepy, murderous knife-hiding doll from that 80s movie that always came back from the dead. “That’s your death spot, isn’t it?”

Peter shifted uncomfortably, his blush darkening. “N-No..?”

“Wrong answer.”

“AAAAAAHHERRHWHRHFEAAHAAAAAHAAAHA!! No Mr. Stahahahark!! NAAAHAHAHAO!!” Peter squirmed like a fish out of water, his body instinctively trying to twist away from Tony’s evil scribbling fingers. But no matter which way he turned, it didn’t help much. Tony’s fingers seemed glued to his hollows.

“EEEEAAAAHEHEEHHAAAA!! M-MR STAHAHARK!! IT…IHIHIT REALLY TIHIHAHAHA TIHIHICKLES BAAAAHAHAHD!!”

“That’s the point, kiddo! It’s more—whoa! You are just extra kicky today, aren’t you? FRIDAY, a little help here?”

“NOOOHOHOHO!”

Tony and FRIDAY had switched places; FRIDAY grabbing ahold of Peter’s flailing legs while Tony grabbed the boy’s wrists in one hand. Even as the two switched places, Tony couldn’t help but notice how Peter wasn’t putting up a fight to get away. He could’ve easily gotten up and bolted the second they let go of his limbs, or curl up with his arms wrapped around his torso so they couldn’t bring his arms up anymore, but he just laid there with a silly smile and blushy cheeks. Almost as if he secretly wanted this to keep going.

Tony had to ask the billion dollar question. “Y’know Pete, despite all your complaints, you’re not even putting up a fight to stop me or FRIDAY. Could it be because…you actually like this? You like getting tickled?”

Peter fell silent. He looked anywhere but his mentor’s eyes. He opened his mouth to answer but all that came out was stutters and keyboard smashes.

Tony raised an eyebrow. “Really? Look, I’m barely holding down your arms here and you’re not even trying to get away!” Peter’s face felt like was on fire now. “You know you can easily break out of my grip—even FRIDAY’s—and hightail it outta here, buuuut…I’m starting to think you don’t want to. Am I right or what?”

“I-I…” was all that came out of Peter’s mouth. Finally, he sighed and locked eyes with his mentor. His flustered, trembling lip suddenly curled into a crap-eating grin. With a defiant smirk, Peter stuck his tongue out. “Bite me, old man!”

Tony’s mouth formed a perfect O. Oh the kid was so asking for it! Recovering in a millisecond, Tony cracked his knuckled for dramatic effect. “That’s it! You’re finished, kid! You know I’m sensitive about my age!”

Peter actually had the nerve to stick his tongue out at him again.

Okay, so maybe truthfully he didn’t want this playful attack to cease. It was a great stress reliever after the rough week he endured. And if Peter wanted to dig a little deeper into it, while he was being tickled to pieces and screeching at frequencies only dogs should hear, he couldn’t think of all the bad things that had happened—his lab report incident, academic pressure, or even any general insecurities he had as Peter Parker and Spider-Man.

All he could think about in the heat of the moment was the playful ticklish feeling, the waves of dopamine, and the pure fun bonding vibe. So despite all the squealing and squirming, Peter was genuinely having fun. He’d be bummed if Tony stopped so soon. So he had to provoke his mentor some more to keep the fun going.

And that’s just what he did.

Oh, but if only FRIDAY hadn’t been traitorous enough to actually look up other sorts of tickling methods and suggest them to Tony to use against Peter.

“W-Wait! Wahahahit!! NonononoAAAAAAHAHAHEEHEHAHAAAA!! EEEEEHHAAAHAEHE!! THAT FEEHEEHEEHEELS AHAHA—AWFUFUFUL!! *snort* NAAAAAAHEHEAAHAAAAHAHAAA!!”

“Did you just snort, kid?!”

“N-Nohoho!! Shuhuhut uhuhup!! AAAAH! Waitwaitwait!! I tahahahake it baHAAAAAAHAHAAAAA!!”

Better hope that none of the Avengers nor his enemies finds out about Spider-Man’s adorable little weakness.

[taylor-swift-bracket]

🎇Please reblog!🎇

Notable bridges

(Under the cut)

1989 (Taylor’s Version)

Out of the woods

Remember when you hit the brakes too soon?

Twenty stitches in the hospital room

When you started crying, baby, I did too

But when the sun came up, I was looking at you

Remember when we couldn't take the heat?

I walked out, I said, "I'm setting you free"

But the monsters turned out to be just trees

When the sun came up, you were looking at me

You were looking at me, oh

You were looking at me

(Are we out of the woods yet? Are we out of the woods yet?)

(Are we out of the woods yet? Are we out of the woods?)

I remember

(Are we in the clear yet? Are we in the clear yet?)

(Are we in the clear yet, in the clear yet? Good)

Oh, I remember

Wildest Dreams

You'll see me in hindsight

Tangled up with you all night

Burnin' it down

Someday, when you leave me

I bet these memories

Follow you around

You'll see me in hindsight

Tangled up with you all night

Burnin' (Burnin') it (It) down (Down)

Someday, when you leave me

I bet these memories

Follow (Follow) you (You) around

(Follow you around)

Is It Over Now?

And did you think I didn't see you?

There were flashin' lights

At least I had the decency

To keep my nights out of sight

Only rumors 'bout my hips and thighs

And my whispered sighs

Oh, Lord, I think about jumpin'

Off of very tall somethings

Just to see you come runnin'

And say the one thing I've been wanting, but no

Clean

Ten months sober, I must admit

Just because you're clean, don't mean you don't miss it

Ten months older, I won't give in

Now that I'm clean, I'm never gonna risk it

The drought was the very worst, ah-ah, ah-ah

When the flowers that we'd grown together died of thirst (Oh)

Wonderland

I reached for you, but you were gone

I knew I had to go back home

You searched the world for somethin' else

To make you feel like what we had

And in the end, in Wonderland, we both went mad

Oh

folklore

Illicit affairs

And you wanna scream

Don't call me "kid," don't call me "baby"

Look at this godforsaken mess that you made me

You showed me colors you know I can't see with anyone else

Don't call me "kid," don't call me "baby"

Look at this idiotic fool that you made me

You taught me a secret language I can't speak with anyone else

the last great american dynasty

They say she was seen on occasion

Pacing the rocks, staring out at the midnight sea

And in a feud with her neighbor

She stole his dog and dyed it key lime green

Fifty years is a long time

Holiday House sat quietly on that beach

Free of women with madness, their men and bad habits

And then it was bought by me

hoax

You know I left a part of me back in New York

You knew the hero died so what's the movie for?

You knew it still hurts underneath my scars

From when they pulled me apart

You knew the password so I let you in the door

You knew you won so what's the point of keeping score?

You knew it still hurts underneath my scars

From when they pulled me apart

But what you did was just as dark

(Ah, ah, ah)

Darling, this was just as hard

As when they pulled me apart

my tears ricochet

And I can go anywhere I want

Anywhere I want, just not home

And you can aim for my heart, go for blood

But you would still miss me in your bones

And I still talk to you (When I'm screaming at the sky)

And when you can't sleep at night (You hear my stolen lullabies)

august

Back when we were still changin' for the better

Wanting was enough

For me, it was enough

To live for the hope of it all

Cancel plans just in case you'd call

And say, "Meet me behind the mall"

So much for summer love and saying "us"

'Cause you weren't mine to lose

You weren't mine to lose, no

evermore

champagne problems

Your Midas touch on the Chevy door

November flush and your flannel cure

"This dorm was once a madhouse"

I made a joke, "Well, it's made for me"

How evergreen, our group of friends

Don't think we'll say that word again

And soon they'll have the nerve to deck the halls

That we once walked through

One for the money, two for the show

I never was ready so I watch you go

Sometimes you just don't know the answer

'Til someone's on their knees and asks you

"She would've made such a lovely bride

What a shame she's f*cked in the head," they said

But you'll find the real thing instead

She'll patch up your tapestry that I shred

ivy

So yeah, it's a fire

It's a violent blaze in the dark

And you started it

You started it

So yeah, it's a war

It's the fiercest fight of my life

And you started it

You started it

tolerate it

While you were out buildin' other worlds, where was I?

Where's that man who'd throw blankets over my barbed wire?

I made you my temple, my mural, my sky

Now I'm beggin' for footnotes in the story of your life

Drawin' hearts in the byline

Always takin' up too much space or time

You assume I'm fine, but what would you do if I

marjorie

The autumn chill that wakes me up

You loved the amber skies so much

Long limbs and frozen swims

You'd always go past where our feet could touch

And I complained the whole way there

The car ride back and up the stairs

I should've asked you questions

I should've asked you how to be

Asked you to write it down for me

Should've kept every grocery store receipt

'Cause every scrap of you would be taken from me

Watched as you signed your name Marjorie

All your closets of backlogged dreams

And how you left them all to me

Right where you left me

Did you ever hear about the girl who got frozen?

Time went on for everybody else, she won't know it

She's still twenty-three inside her fantasy

How it was supposed to be

Did you hear about the girl who lives in delusion?

Breakups happen every day, you don't have to lose it

She's still twenty-three inside her fantasy

And you're sitting in front of me

[avelera]

On the Study of Miracles

Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3

Character: Gale, gender-neutral Tav, pre-Gale/Tav

Word count: 1,635

Author Note: Just a little something that's been plaguing my brain since my first play-through. Somewhat envisioned as part of a series from each Companion's POV, we'll see how far it goes. Posting the rough here until I decide what to do with it.

Summary: The day before the Nautiloid abducted him was the worst day of Gale's life. Not the day of. The day before. How does one even explain that to any sane person?

--

Yesterday was the worst day of Gale’s life. 

Not the bit with the tadpoles and the sudden abduction-by-teleportation, no. Not the part where he woke up in a claustrophobic pod and pressed his hands to the glass, looking about wildly as his all-too educated brain already knew what his stomach did not yet want to admit: that he was on a mindflayer ship and his gruesome end, from that point, was all but a certainty.

No. 

All of that happened after midnight, in Waterdhavian time. So he still considered that today. It’s important to be precise about such things. 

No, the worst day of his life was yesterday, sitting alone in his tower in Waterdeep, with Tara out fetching him another magical item to consume in the hopeless hope of staving off the inevitable just a little longer. Just until a cure could be found. Just until a miracle occurred. He’d loved a goddess, once, and a part of him deep down would never cease to. It’s just the sort of person he was. More importantly, she’d loved him, as much as any god can love what is mortal. Perhaps that was more or perhaps less than how much mortals could love other mortals.

Anyway. The point was, he’d been waiting for a miracle, and as the painfully-former lover of a goddess, he knew what a miracle looked like. He’d had one once, held her in his arms. And he grimly suspected that, like her, he would never know another miracle. It wasn’t for mortals to get more than one. 

He’d known that with a certainty he viewed at once with grim disillusionment and self-deceptive avoidance. So long as he didn’t think about it too much, he could pretend that there were still years before him rather than months. Weeks. Maybe even days, if Tara came up empty-handed, or empty-pawed, as it were.

He avoided the thought of hi approaching end with all the intellectual power he’d once poured into his studies at Blackstaff, under the fawning tutelage of his instructors, back when he was still a wise and precocious child, a “joy to have in class”, rather than a self-assured and (he could admit it) likely unbearable teenager, or worse, a young man. The lover of a goddess, just for his skill in magic alone. Gods he must have been a nightmare to deal with. Perhaps all of this was deserved, on some level.

Right. But back to yesterday. It wasn’t, strictly speaking, a singular worst day of his life. But they’d all blurred together by then, starting from the moment his new reality had truly sunk in, alone in his tower, when the frenzy of pain and soul-scorching hunger had receded enough for him to look around, sweat-soaked, sickened, and dazed, at his home in Waterdeep all but stripped of the magical artifacts that had glowed and chimed and made beautiful the rooms of his tower. 

His tower that swiftly became his prison. 

Part of the dreadful isolation that followed was his fault. Well, most of it. Turned out, he didn’t really have friends so much as he had colleagues. Colleagues who came ‘round once or twice when he first went missing, but upon being refused, made no further effort to contact Gale, and he could hardly blame them.

Technically there was nothing stopping him from making short social calls, even spending a night out, once he got the hang of how long he could last after each magical item consumed. Technically he didn’t need to be a shut-in with only his tressym for company, once the first firestorm of anguish and grief washed over him and settled into the doldrums of blank horror at how far he’d fallen. 

But that was wicked thing about hope. He had hope that any day, some miracle would descend from on high, Mystra with her forgiveness granted as magically as was her divine domain, and all of this would be some terrible dream. Or he’d stumble upon a cache of magical items enough to put Karsus to shame, enough to live out the rest of his days safely (how he planned to do this while going for days on end without leaving his bedroom didn’t precisely follow logically, he would admit, but then, it was a miracle he was hoping for). 

But to accept miracles was to accept that their opposite could occur. Catastrophes. Terrible streaks of improbable bad luck. One day being the lover of a goddess and the next facing his inevitable, shameful death, for example.

And, for example, he could all too easily picture going out to a party and discovering he’d left his arcane gate keys at home and was therefore stuck surrounded by thousands of civilians while the bomb in his chest counted down inevitably, as occurred in his more memorable and sadly recurring nightmares. If something good could save him, why couldn’t something awful occur just as suddenly to make him a danger to everyone he knew and loved— or at least, whom he marginally liked within a professional setting?

Well, as it turned out, a miracle did occur. It came from the sky, just like the best miracles did. It whisked him away quick as a blink. It took care of all, or rather most of his problems, in one fell swoop, replacing them with incredibly urgent but at least refreshingly different problems, like how to get out of this portal he was stuck in.

And true to his worst nightmares, it had also been a bloody awful catastrophe. Hundreds were dead, though that at least wasn't his fault. Thousands, perhaps millions more would die if they were not successful. It was utterly improbably—insane, in fact!— that he’d fallen in amongst the one group with any real hope of stopping the Absolute’s horrific plan from succeeding. They were, as one with far less education than he might say, in the shit, facing dangers that few but the greatest heroes had ever been forced to contemplate. By all accounts, he should be rocking back and forth in the corner of his tent, gibbering with terror. 

Instead, Gale was smiling. He hadn’t even realized he was smiling until Tav had glanced back and said:

“What’s got you in such a good mood?” 

Tav raised had an eyebrow. It wasn’t even a mean-spirited question. In the early morning hours, after a scrounged-up breakfast of whatever was left over from the camp of those tomb robbers they’d interrupted, it might have been the simple pleasantries he might have experienced from his once politely disinterested colleagues, except…. Tav was sincere. Perhaps faintly amused. The rest of the sentence remained unspoken, the laughter dancing in their eyes that took in all the misfortunes that surrounded their merry band, the Nautiloid, their bare-bones camp, their improbable and still highly doubtful survival. But that was the thing, wasn’t it? Theirs. 

Gale looked around and for the first time in more months than he cared to really think about, he wasn’t surrounded by the warm, wood-paneled walls of his tower. The bookshelves. The feather bed and the balcony with his view of the harbor. All the comforts of home and all the bleak, unbearable solitude of those same walls over and over, day in and day out, as he woke up and stared at his ceiling and sometimes, if Tara wasn’t around, just rolled over and went back to sleep for as long as he could force his body down if it meant not facing another day like this. 

No, he was surrounded by cliffs and forests, dirt paths and the lingering burnt ozone smell of the crashed Nautiloid and the unfortunately building stench of stale blood and unwashed bodies that would only deepen with every mile they walked. He was surrounded by faces, unfamiliar, some friendly, some distrustful, but all of them desperate, all of them pulling together towards the same goal. 

He wasn’t alone. For the first time in so long he wasn’t alone, and awful as it would be to say aloud, the fact that he also wasn’t alone in facing the threat of his own destruction, that each of his companions were in the same spot, working on the same problem was… well. He hadn’t felt this sort of camaraderie since his school days. Perhaps… never. 

Perhaps never. 

Gale snorted, chuckling to himself, and met Tav’s eye. “I rather think you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

The corner of Tav’s lips twitched upward. “Try me.” 

Gale regarded his friend, his savior, the hand that had reached out to his while he hung suspended in a void of nothingness, after so long in a far more comfortable, far more terrible void of solitude, and thought about miracles. And how accepting the good ones could happen also meant accepting the bad ones. Or perhaps they were just two sides of the same coin.

Perhaps he was not so abandoned by all the gods as he thought, to be here, on the other side of his tower walls, on the other side of sanity, on the other side facing down almost inevitable doom. Maybe the key to a miracle was knowing when you had one, as he had failed to see when he had one in his arms. Never again. But then, he’d always been a quick study, and liked to think he knew how not to make the same mistake twice.

“Would you believe,” Gale said, “that yesterday, before the Nautiloid, was the worst day of my life?” 

Tav blinked. “Before the Nautiloid?” Gale nodded and rather than scoff, Tav appeared to consider his answer. “And today?” 

The answer stuck in Gale’s throat, a rare occurrence for him, all the more rare because the truth was bubbling up there already and it was too soon, far too soon, he didn’t want to sound like a lunatic, it was already crazed enough to say that their ordeal was the end of one far worse for him. “The day’s still young,” Gale remarked with a good-natured shrug, glancing towards the horizon as if considering the time and not the truth of needing a moment to gather himself. “Why don’t we venture forth and see what it brings, shall we?” 

The best, Gale swallowed back at the sight of Tav’s answering smile. The very best. Isn’t that the maddest part of it all?

[core4writes]

Heyy , can you plz make a 'sam and colby x reader' , serial killer fic . Like the ghostface types from the movie scream . Sam and colby are the killers . Like they're yandere for her or something ? :) THANK YOU SO MUCH

did i make you scream?//sam and colby

A/N: @/golbrocklovely made a fic like this called we went mad just minus the yandere part but i will attempt this, also i LOVE scream!!

|| non-famous!sam and colby x reader

|| she/her pronouns

trigger warnings: mention of murder, curing, mentions of sex, mentions of Voyeurism, blood and slight gore,

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

Here I was at a police station, in an interrogation room. I have been sitting here for the past hour doing nothing, they just put me in here and said they will be with me “shortly”. I put my head down on the cold sliver table, it was refreshing to feel something cold as it was hot in here or was it just me? I put my head up again and look at the chair in front of me, that's where the guy or whoever is supposed to sit. The silence was thick, as I have not said a word in like an hour.

Someone walks in, a girl and a guy. The guy was wearing a baseball cap with a Plano T-shirt, and a badge on his cargo pants, the girl was wearing a yellow blouse with regular old black skinny jeans. She had a clipboard in one hand, and a water bottle in the other.

They sit down, “listen you're not in trouble, we just wanna ask you some questions.” the lady in yellow said, she sat down the water bottle “This is you, I'm Detective Drew and this is Detective Mike we are going to just be asking you questions.” Drew reassured, “What's your name and date of birth?”

It took me a sec to take this in, this is really happening. “My name is Y/n y/m/n Y/l/n, and my Date of birth is January 1, 1997.” now after a couple of questions about me they started to ask the real questions, why I was here and what got me here.

“What happened on February 14?” Mike asked.

“In order for me to tell you, you have to understand what lead up to it.” I say.

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

January 1st, 2020:

It was my birthday, and a new year too I guess...Anyway, I am known for having big parties but only on my birthday any otheroccasion I will be at someone else's party. For my 23rd birthday, I wanted to make it big so I told my friends to invite their friends even people I didn't know. Me and my friend Misty went shopping, we went to an alcohol store to a Walmart back to an alcohol store.

Now when the party started there were like 100 people than 200, I couldn't let more people in cause my house is not that big. 40 minutes into the party my friend Jake walks up to my with two of his friends following behind him, “yo, y/n what's up!” he yelled over the music “hey what's up, do you wanna shot?”

He takes the shot of alcohol out of my hand and downs it with no shame, I take quick notice of the two boys behind Jake, o ne had black hair and was wearing a loose tank top with black sweatpants and Converse. The other r one had a loose big purple T-shirt with white pants.

I look back at the one with dark hair is and lock eyes with him, I could tell his eyes are really blue. My eyes snapped back to Jake, “Oh, you said I could invite anyone so I invited Sam and Colby.” Jake said pointing to them.

I went in and hugged them both, Sam first then Colby last but Colby's hug lasted longer than expected it was like he was smelling me, Sam pulled him off me and pulled have im away into the crowd of people. I look at Jake “That was...weird.” Jake giggles.

A few days later I got a package. the package  came at midnight, a knock on the door happened and I didn't answer at first cause I thought it was a ding dong ditch so I didn't answer. Then it happened again so I answer, expecting it to be my boyfriend I empty the door swiftly with a smile but all I see is nothing.

I look down at my welcome home mat and see a box placed on top of it, I pick it up thinking maybe it's my ring light that's presumed to come in but the box is light. I bring it in and put it on the tabletop “What the fuck is this.” Misty said I shrug my shoulders and open it, it was a notebook with my name on it. The notebook was wrapped in plastic wrap, I rip it open to read and maybe my boyfriend did something sweet for me.

The first page was a link, a link to a video of course. So I move away from Misty and the kitchen to go to my office by myself, I open my computer and type in the link to the mystery video. Oh my, it was a 5-minute video of me and my boyfriend having sex.

This was confusing, it looked like someone was recording us from a window, the video went in and out of focus. You can even hear moans from the background, but our window was closed so who was that deep voice whimpering?  all of the sudden the video cam goes down to show a man jerking off to us having us. My heart dropped when I seen the tiny hand tattoo, it looked like that boy that I met from the party. colby.

I close the tap quickly and I take a deep breath I open the book to read the rest, but the rest was all pictures of me. Every single page, I got out of my seat in a rush to see Misty to show her this hell show of a book.

But the  lights turned off, or as some of you would say the power went out. I turn my phone flashlight on, and I yell out Misty's name. “Misty! Turn back on the power and look at this book!” but no answer, I went to the kitchen because that's where she last was but no sign of her. I looked up in her room even in the living room she was nowhere so I decided to turn the power on myself. I went down to the basement and as soon as I was close to the last step, I see Misty's head hangin g in front of my face, her chopped-off hat that had exes on each of her eyes, her blonde hair was messy, and God knows where the rest of her body went.

I screamed and ran upstairs, rushing to call 911 on my phone  but every time I would call it would send me an automatic voice message " Sorry the Kansas police station cannot reach you right now we are currently busy. Try another time." and I kept calling and kept calling and kept calling but no answer so I decided to ask my neighbor for help.

trying to leave my house was a big mistake because as soon as I open the front door I see Sam holding a knife I automatically – and head for the back door until I see Colby at the back door, holding a vase. "why are you doing this?” I asked.

“ Because I love you.”  he throws a vase at me, but I managed to dodge and try to dash upstairs to hide, but Sam catches up to me and cuts the knife into my back.  I scream and screech in pain.  As I fall to the floor, both men standing in front of me, watching me, bleed out, probably to my death, and they ask me one thing .”

“ did I make you scream?”

and now, next thing, I know, I'm walking up in the hospital and now I'm in a police investigation room. That night still haunts me to this day will haunt me, even more, is that they're currently out there and the police are looking for them but they're not trying their best. 



[sophietv]

Where "You're Losing Me" fits in the Kaylor Timeline

Ok, so I wanted to sum up what I thought “You’re Losing Me” meant for Kaylor. But most of all, where does it all fit in the Timeline.

First and foremost. It’s important to remember that Midnights is in Taylor’s words: “the stories of 13 sleepless nights scattered throughout my life”.

Which means that the songs on this album are not all recent stories. Some happened a long time ago. 

Like:

Snow On The Beach: being about the Victoria Secret Fashion Show in 2013.

Question…?: About Kissgate in 2014.

One thing that is interesting with Midnights is that songs are sampled over older songs. I believe this serves multiple purposes:

Pointing at the muse (Maroon sampled over KOMH and Cornelia Street),

Pointing at the time and cause of the song (The Great War sampled on Only The Young)

Pointing at the similar emotions the event might have with others (Question…? sampled on OOTW).

So where does that leave us with "You’re Losing Me"? 

When you listen to the song you notice that it’s very similar and seem to have practically the same intro as "Cornelia Street".

More than that, if you play both songs at the same time, the timing is perfect, the intro of one song answers the intro of the other.

So what is Taylor trying to tell us with this?

Everyone was puzzled when the song came out, because it does not fit with the narrative of Champagne Problems and Midnight Rain. Those songs seem to point at Karlie wanting to commit and Taylor being unable to choose her over everything else.

But in You’re Losing Me. It’s quite the contrary. Taylor seems to want to commit and seems unsure of Karlie’s intentions in this relationship. 

So what does it mean?

I think the song points to Cornelia Street to offer a timeline of when the events took place.

And I don’t think they took place at the same time the song Cornelia Street takes place (in 2019), but more likely, when they were living at Cornelia Street.

Taylor rented Cornelia Street from June 2016 to early 2017. 

What happened during this time with Kaylor?

I think, looking back on all the events of 2019. Everyone can at least agree that they were still together at that time.

If you don’t believe it. Watch Miss Americana. The Call It What You Want scene, and you’ll see that Kaylor was indeed alive and well.

I did a thread on Twitter about this, but here’s some important events. 

Octobre 11th 2016: “It’s all part of the fucking story”

Octobre 12th 2016: Taylor went out to the concert where she “started dating Joe”.

Octobre 13th 2016: Taylor is out at the Bowery Ballroom with Karlie and Serena William (yes this is suspicious).

Novembre 7th 2016: Karlie and Taylor are out at Lorde’s birthday.

Novembre 8th 2016: Trump is elected. Karlie posted the famous picture of her and Taylor kissing Lorde’s cheek with the ring (last post of them together at an event)

Novembre 9th 2016: Start of the Love Blackout 

(There’s also the engagement theory that happened in Wyoming in August 2016)

What makes me say the song takes place then and not in 2019?

Well she references the Cornelia Street apartment, with the song sample obviously, but also with those lyrics:

 “remember lookin’ at this room, we loved it ‘cause of the light. Now, I just sit in the dark and wonder if it’s time.” 

I think the lyric “We thought a cure would come through in time, now I fear it won’t” might be about them having to hide their relationship.

And I suspect the results of the 2016 elections has something to do with it (as well as with the Love Blackout).

In the song Taylor is begging Karlie to choose her. 

The song is also not a finality. 

When the song ends we don’t know what happened.

There’s fear, hurt, indecision, but also a bit of hope: “Unless you’re choosin’ me”

Taylor is still wishing it might work out.

So I think the song being sampled on Cornelia Street is to tell us it happened during this time frame (June 2016 - early 2017).

And in the song Cornelia Street there’s:

“Windows swung right open, autumn air

Jacket 'round my shoulders is yours

We bless the rains on Cornelia Street

Memorize the creaks in the floor”

Which points to the Autumn of 2016 (if we follow the timeline).

"Back when we were card sharks, playing games

I thought you were leading me on

I packed my bags, left Cornelia Street

Before you even knew I was gone"

This part points to before that. But still at Cornelia Street. So between June and Septembre 2016.

And it’s talking about a fight they had where Taylor thought Karlie was not genuine with her “I thought you were leading me on” 

Interesting because it fits perfectly with the narrative of “You’re Losing Me”.

"But then you called, showed your hand

I turned around before I hit the tunnel

Sat on the roof, you and I"

And this fight had a happy ending! 

So for all those reasons, this is where I think this sleepless night took place and the fight it’s talking about. 

What does it means for LSK? Not much. But it sure doesn’t mean that they are not together. 

[vaspider]

The worst sound I hear on a regular basis -- possibly one of the worst sounds I've ever heard -- is the sound of this dog howling and crying in terror in his sleep. He screams. In his sleep.

Someone hurt him, badly, a long time ago. He's scared of hoses and strange men with hats. If he hears fireworks at night, he refuses to go out to pee after sundown for days. He doesn't even want to be on the first floor of the house after sundown if he's heard fireworks in the past week or so. He's so afraid of motorcycles that he will run into the kitchen where he knows he's not allowed to be, this most gentle and obedient of dogs, because the kitchen is the furthest away from the street he can get.

He's so gentle and submissive that he won't even play tuggy with other dogs because he gives up immediately, but he loves to play any game with humans. He isn't too keen on fetch but he loves to chase a rope if you drag it around. He's strong but delicate, and has tiny little ballerina feet that his giant muscular body balances on.

He's so in tune with his humans that Evie can tell I'm having a pain spike because his head will pop up and he'll start whining and trying to get to me before I can even tense up or cry out. He has in the past stood at the gate downstairs and cried because -- somehow -- he knew I was upstairs silently collapsing to the floor with a muscle spasm that left me unable to stand. When Evie's old roomie had her ancient cat put to sleep before we moved in, Rumba heard her crying in the basement with the visiting vet and crashed through the gate at the top of the stairs to go comfort her. (I've only ever seen him disobey a human for two reasons - to get away from Loud Noises and to Comfort A Hurt Human.) We call him Dr. Rumba because he knows the cure for all human ills: it's snuggles and kisses and a nap. (He's usually right.)

He belongs to my wife, his Eema, and he's incredibly devoted to her, but dotes on all of us. He loves to sit next to me on my recliner while I write and go to the basement shop with Emet to keep them company.

He's so incredibly in love with Cap. They're best friends, or married, we're not sure which, or if it matters. We call them the Salt and Pepper Shakers. If he can manage it, he will lay on top of Cap and stretch his limbs out so he's also touching at least two humans.

Anyway, someone is setting off fireworks at midnight for no fucking reason and I just had to give Rumba his sedatives because he keeps screaming and wailing in terror in his sleep, so instead of sitting here marinating in revenge fantasies about what I'd do to the people before us, the ones who made the sweetest soul I've ever known capable of such witless terror, I'm telling you all about Rumba.

I love him.

[niceboyeds]

wheezy baby (e.m)

pairing: Eddie Munson x reader

summary: based on this post, Eddie taking care of you while you’re sick

contains: fluff, mentions being sick(naturally), language, mentions dying, please lmk if i missed something

word count: 1.4K

a/n: i wrote that original post while being sick, and even though i’m still a little sick i’ve been getting better slowly, so please keep in mind i have a mush brain at the moment. it’s also midnight and i hardly proofread this so bear with me xx

taglist: @neewtmas

nav

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

“hi Eds.” you squeak out, seeing your doting boyfriend walk into the bedroom.

“hi, my wheezy baby” you laugh at his greeting, but it comes out strained and painful.

“don’t make me laugh, it hurts.” you groan, trying not to cough again.

“i’m sorry hun. is there anything I can do for you?” “yeah, actually.”

he sits on the bed next to you, rubbing your shoulder and slightly distracting you.

“are... are you going to tell me?” he asks after a minute, waiting for the answer you never provided.

“oh right, sorry.” he laughs, knowing the cough medicine makes you drowsy on top of your astonishing ability to zone out on the regular. “you can go to Nancy’s house, get one of her guns, and put me out of my fucking misery.”

“funny that you think she’d actually show me her new hiding place.”

“I can dream.” you sigh, wheezing out another long breath.

“sometimes your jokes don’t seem like jokes.” he frowns at you and you know he doesn’t like when you joke about dying. he’s a sensitive boy and he loves you more than anything in the world.

“i’m sorry. I just don’t feel good.”

“I know, I hate that you’re sick. I just talked to Wayne and he said—”

“I told you to leave him alone!” you whine, knowing that he keeps calling his uncle to ask questions about what to do for you.

as sweet and caring as Eddie is, he does not know what medications to give you and how long to wait in between. and although you're grateful his amazing uncle is able to answer his questions, you feel guilty that he’s getting pulled away to the phone while working.

“he called me! said he wanted to check up on ya.”

“he did?” you can feel tears welling up in your eyes.

Uncle Wayne wanted to check on you?

“yup, also said if you’re not any better by tomorrow we should take you to the doctor.” your eyes have seemed to dry up completely with the rest of his words.

“hmm… no I don’t think so.”

“c’mon, doctors aren’t that bad! besides, Wayne says it’s a good idea and it’ll keep you from getting worse.”

“suddenly I’m one-hundred percent better and—” you cut yourself off with yet another chest rattling cough.

“yeah, you’re cured.” he speaks sarcastically, making you groan and turn your body away from him.

“hey baby?” he pokes you softly, attempting to get you to turn back to face him but all he receives in return is another groan as you wrap yourself in the blanket tighter than you thought possible. “can I snuggle you under those blankets?”

“depends.”

“on what?”

“if you put a movie on for me.” you roll back over, facing him once again to be greeted with his sweet smile.

“duh! what’ll it be tonight, sweets?”

“something scary!” you beam, perking up immediately when he asks you to pick.

“I should’ve known that.” he laughs, walking over to the stack of tapes on the ground.

“do you still have The Shining?”

“uhh…” you hear the stack get knocked over, tumbling to the ground and he whispers out a “shit” before digging through the mess. “ha-ha! yes, got it right here!”

he holds it in the air and waves it around, earning a lazy clap from you before he pops it into the VCR. you scoot over, making room for him to lay beside you in the bed.

“you have enough blankets?” he asks before joining you and you think for a moment.

“are there even any more in this house?” you tease, looking around the bed and seeing the pile of blankets surrounding you at the foot of the bed.

“well… I mean I could go get some from Steve or something.”

“baby I’m okay, really.”

“what about water? or food? oh! do you want—”

“all I want is for you to come cuddle me and watch this movie quietly.”

it melts your heart when he does anything and everything he can to help you feel better. he has always been so sweet to you, but when you got taken down with this sickness it’s like a flip switched in his head. he went headfirst into the role as your caretaker and even when you tried to push him away out of fear of giving him the virus, he refused to listen to you.

instead he left kisses all over your face, and said “guess we’ll be sick together”, despite your weak attempt to push him away. thankfully he and Uncle Wayne haven’t gotten whatever you did.

Eddie finally joins you in the bed, cozying up next to you, allowing you to lay on his chest. his warmth is beyond comforting and for what feels like the first time this week you stop coughing long enough to easily doze off to sleep.

unfortunately it doesn’t last long. the movie seems to scare your sweet boyfriend, and his startled jump jolts you awake. fear creeps into your chest at the sudden movement, ultimately leading into yet another painful coughing fit.

“shit baby, I’m sorry!” as he sits up to get your glass of water from the bedside table, he continues to apologize endlessly.

once you are able to stop coughing long enough to take a drink, you ease back into your spot in his arms. his hand comes over to your chest and gently rubs it, hoping to help calm the ache and pain.

“better?” he asks, feeling you relax in his hold once again. you nod your head and turn back towards the movie.

“got scared, huh?” you tease, wheezing out another soft laugh.

“it’s those fucking twins! like Christ, who comes up with this shit?”

“we can turn it off if you want?”

“no hun, it’s okay.”

“I mean, you could read to me instead? then you won’t scare me awake.”

“yeah… maybe we can finish it in the mornin’?” you nod in agreement with him, sitting up yet again so he can leave the warm bed and hunt for the latest book the two of you have been reading together.

“Princess Bride, right?”

“yup, that’s the one.”

“kinda ironic that this is the one we’re reading when you’re sick.” he teases you, making you smile and roll your eyes, knowing he’s acknowledging the introduction of the book where it mentions the narrator’s first experience with The Princess Bride was when he was sick in bed with pneumonia.

“where were we?”

“chapter five, I think. right after the poison part because you got distracted.”

he does get easily off task, which is something you love about him. the two of you can talk for hours dissecting the books you read together.

this particular time you had to break the news that while it may seem “badass” to ingest small amounts of poison until you become immune, it is not a very well tested theory, and you would be heartbroken if he took too much in an attempt to be like the character in the novel.

he ultimately agreed, but only after you used the word “heartbroken”. Eddie promised you when you first started dating that he would never ever break your heart. and this man holds true to his word.

settling back into the bed, you tangle your legs around his to search for warmth. he is quick to pull another throw blanket over you and you smile at the gesture.

feeling comfortable and relaxed, listening to his heartbeat from your seemingly permanent position on his chest, he begins to read aloud to you.

he is sure to speak softly, trying his best attempt to give the characters the perfect accents and voices, still cautious that you seem to be drifting off to sleep again. and you allow your tired eyes to slowly droop, deciding not to fight the inevitable anymore.

once Eddie is sure you’re asleep, he closes the book and sets it on the bedside table. he reaches over to switch off the lamp and lowers himself into the bed with you safely tucked into his arms.

he places a final kiss on the top of your head as he allows himself to fall asleep too, whispering out one last “good night, my wheezy baby.”

[pocketramblr]

Names

Eri squinted at the signs. "Those are... silly names, for kitties, right?"

Shouta looked back over the list: Trash Bag, Egg, Cheese, Ham, Fast, Furious, and Carpet. Honestly, he didn't think there was anything wrong with those names, but he also knew they weren't exactly normal.

"Yes. They are."

"Why? Why not real names?"

Shouta shrugged, but apparently an employee heard her question.

"Well, silly names get people's attention, and they're more likely to adopt for one." The employee smiled at Eri. "It also helps us not to get to attached, like giving them real names would. These can be changed easier when their families pick real ones."

Eri pressed herself closer to Shouta's leg when the stranger approached, but she nodded at their words, brows furrowed in thought.

She didn't say any more about it until they were walking to the train.

"Ai-san, Eri is a real name. Right?"

"Uh, yes?"

"Because... The cat worker said giving a real name gets you attached. But I don't remember if Mom called me Eri before Chisaki did... And..." Her voice drifted off, a shaky sound in it that he hadn't heard in a while, maybe before the cultural festival. She'd come so far out of the shadow of where she'd been, but Shouta supposed that it would be foolish to think she'd never think of it again.

"I don't know who gave you the name Eri." He says, and it's true. They couldn't find any records of her, not even her birth. No one was sure who got rid of it, but they hoped that her grandfather could clear up anything when he woke. If he did. "But if you'd like to change it, you can."

"I can?"

"Of course you can, it's your name."

She was stunned by this idea for several minutes. Shouta feared he sent her into a spiral.

"Uh, you don't have to get rid of your name to change it. You could add to it, like my students add a hero name."

"Ohhh..." Eri nodded at the idea. "How did they do that?"

"It depends on the person. You should ask them when we get." Because Shouta didn't remember why, he was pretty sure he'd been asleep under his desk that day.

"What if I want someone else's name?"

"Uh," he paused, wondering if she meant to take. No, Eri was a sweet girl, she'd mean to share. Probably. "You can ask them."

"Hm. Eri Lemillion. I don't like how that sounds." She wrinkled her nose. "Eri.... Eri Shouta?"

Shouta almost fell on his face.

"Ack- uh- Eri. It would be Eri Aizawa, if you wanted my name."

"I don't like that as much as Eri Shouta though." She said, shrugging. "Oh, Eri Midnight, that sounds like a magic name... Eri Pretty Cure...Eri UA..." She tested each name, and Shouta gave up on stopping or reasoning with her. If anyone deserved whatever name she wanted, even "Eri Deku Mermaid", it was her.

[quietbluejay]

The Last Church

Bluejay once again sallies forth to deal with her nemesis! (McNeill) He somehow managed to replicate the feeling of wanting to get into an argument with people Being Wrong On The Internet

nah he's not my writer nemesis that's probably Roche or Roberts. Love to post my transformers salt one of these days...

This is far from the worst prose I've seen from McNeill. It actually feels strangely bereft of purple.

so Uriah in his misspent youth stole a clock that's apparently counting down to doomsday seems kind of not appropriate to stick something you stole in your church after you found religion, but what do i know and at two minutes to midnight, a visitor arrives

girl help they are not sending their best there's a lot to complain about here but i don't even know if i should bother

I'm getting a headache

He really is a reddit atheist

liar GIRL HELP THEY ARE NOT SENDING THEIR BEST okay you know that feeling when you really want to get into an argument with someone online but you have to be so brave about it and walk away from the computer that's how i'm feeling rn tldr priest tells the story of the miracle of the lightning stone, emperor goes "it was probably paradoleia (sp?) and also sometimes lightning can cure people of blindness" emp continues mocking him the people who described it as "the emperor bullies an old man and then burns down his church" are 100% correct

[press x to doubt]

only religious people emperor ever talked to are protestants, got it

im wheezing here lmaoooo this is your example

IM CACKLING i think the emperor is. very stupid. hey neoth hey answer me what did you call your initiative to conquer the galaxy to unite all of humanity again? and how did you operate it? and with the goal of purging it of…what, again? like even ignoring historical inaccuracies as much as it pains my soul to let these things pass by EVEN IGNORING THAT those shamans were dead dog drunk when they made the emperor

this is a comedy

but also it's very annoying that the priest is not able to refute him on basic stuff and also. it makes the emperor look. very stupid. either that or you assume the emperor is just making stuff up to bully an 80 year old man

I WANT TO THROW HANDS AND IM BEING SO BRAVE ABOUT IT

hey so like what are you about to do to someone who disagrees with your view on cosmology?

is it crack? is it crack that you smoke?

but yeah this is so frustrating i am begging you give the poor priest ONE GOOD REFUTATIONNNNNN i don't care if the emperor brushes it aside that's not the point here anyways Uriah finally is Done and begins the Mass only to get interrupted by the Emperor going "there's no one here" bluh

I'm laughing so hard here I needed that ahhahahahahahahaha i feel like i should pull up the excerpt of the iterators from Horus Rising oh yeah so the Emperor reveals that "you thought it was God who saved you, but it was I, DIO!" uriah goes noooo ok fine u win my life is a lie but then

then the emperor destroys the church and talks about his grand ambitions to conquer the galaxy

as opposed to everyone else, who thought they were wrong im sorry i was weak i gave in to the bait

so, that was The Last Church i needed that laugh

In summary: -anti-religion that's basically just Anti-Catholicism as seen by someone whose only exposure to religion was American Protestantism which is pretty much most reddit atheists so a point to McNeill for accuracy there

HE DIDN'T EVEN TOUCH ON THE PROBLEM OF EVIL, SOMETHING EXTREMELY RELEVANT IN 40K!

like okay. I Will Be Fair this guy (the priest) got very little theological education and who knows how much actual history given the length of time BUT ALSO AS A HUMAN I JUST REALLY WANT SOMEONE TO TELL THE EMPEROR OFF

what if i i write my own version….but no, i shouldn't…haha…but…what if…. Emperor has the arguments of a 19 year old redditor and the debate skills of one too If you are a 19 year old redditor reading this post, this doesn't apply to you unless you are specifically the kind of atheist redditor who goes to religion subs and picks fights.

[castielmydarling]

Suptober 2023-Day 7: Black Cat

Midnight-642 words on AO3 or below Summary: Jack comes home with a surprise.

Dean and Cas are in the Dean Cave quietly catching up on their backlog of tv shows when they hear the bunker door slam open. “Cas!” They hear Jack yell. “Where are you?” he calls excitedly. They share a look, both afraid about what's got Jack so excited. 

“In Dean’s cave.” Cas responds. It’s hard to prepare yourself when the one bringing the news is an ex-god nephilim. 

Jack walks into the room with a black bundle in his arms. “Look what I found.” He says softer now than how he entered the bunker. He opens his arms revealing a small black cat.

Dean instantly gets up from the couch to stand at the other end of the room. “No no no no. Don’t bring that thing in here.” he says, panicked. “I can already feel my eyes watering.”

Cas rolls his eyes. “Dean, please calm down, you’re going to scare her.” Cas goes up to Dean pressing two fingers to his forehead. “There, that should calm any side effects from your allergy.”

“Jack,” Cas turns back to him, calmly. “Where did you find her?”

Jack places her on the floor. Dean is ready to protest about a cat traipsing all over this room but one shake of the head from Cas stops him. 

“Outside in the area next to the bunker. When we got home last night I felt like there was something different in the area. I don’t really know how to explain it but I went out to investigate and found her.” He says, happily.

“Uh don’t you think it’s a little dangerous so go exploring by yourself based on unknown feelings?” Dean says, cautious. First a cat in his room and now Jack drops this bomb. 

Jack laughs. “Don’t be silly, Dean. I knew the feeling wasn’t dangerous.” He looks at him, more serious now. “I would never put myself in danger.”

Dean sighs in relief. “Ok. That’s good.” Jack may still be a powerful nephilim but he’s still a kid. 

Cas takes off his tie, tangling it in front of the cat. She swats at it playfully. “You know we can’t keep her, right Jack?”

“Yeah because I’m allergic!” Dean says from the other side of the room. Cas may have alleviated his allergy symptoms but he still wants to keep his distance. 

Cas glares at him. “Because I believe I saw a lost cat flier for her the last time we were in town.”

Jack sits on the floor taking the tie to play with her. “Yeah, Midnight. I thought it was her too. I wanted to get your opinion before I got the number to call and take her back.” He says bummed. Having a cat would be nice. 

He stands, picking up Midnight and handing Cas his tie. “I’ll go where we saw the flier and call them.” He’s a second from flying off when Cas stops him. 

“How about I drive you?” Cas suggests. “That way you can spend a little more time with her before taking her home.” He hands the tie back.

Jack lights up. “Ok! I’ll meet you in the garage.” He leaves holding out the tie for her to play while he holds her close. 

Dean laughs. “I’m glad the cat already has a home. I was scared Jack was going to ask to keep her.” He says relieved. 

“And would that have been a problem?” Cas asks. “And before you say anything, allergies can be cured. At least Jack or I could.”

“Well…I mean.” Dean stutters. 

Cas saves him from continuing. “It’s ok, Dean, I don’t expect you to answer that now. A decision like getting a pet requires a conversation.” He winks at him before turning to leave. “We’ll be back in a bit.”

Dean stands there defeated. No way are they not getting a cat soon.

[gucciwins]

How did bel and Harry celebrate Christmas? What did they get each other

thanks for asking lovie 🥺 they had the sweetest day 🤍 (enjoy this 1.4k blurb)

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Spending Christmas with Harry and his family for the second year has made her feel lucky. Sarai and Naomi were spending it with Sarai’s extended family in Mexico. Naomi’s parents would spend it with their sons and respective partners this year. It was the first year since Y/N was a teen that she would not be spending the day with Naomi. 

Harry’s and Bel’s traditions were different. 

Bel loved to dress up on noche buena, better known as Christmas Eve. She would have music playing, and the kitchen would be filled with food from tamales Sarai helped Bel make to flan a sweet caramelized dessert. They would all stay up into the early hours of the morning, opening gifts and enjoying time together. 

While Harry’s family celebrations began on the 25th with a breakfast, Harry made with his sister, never letting their mother lift a finger. Opening presents around the tree leads to watching Christmas movies and playing games. Then by the end of the night, it’s a special dinner. 

These celebrations are special to them, and Bel, over time, has kept some alive but also changed how she celebrated. Harry also wanted to help intertwine the holiday, and they’ve settled on eating tamales Harry helps her make. She laughs as he struggles to fold each banana leaf tamales. His family stays up until midnight, sharing a present before heading to bed. Then in the morning, Anne and Bel are treated to a cooked breakfast (Bel is a guest and not allowed to do more than decorate cookies). Bel felt a little homesick; not being with Naomi and Sarai but being with Harry’s family has been the perfect cure. She was welcomed with open arms. It was her favorite time because she saw Harry relaxed and happy at home. 

Bel even shed a few tears when she saw her own stocking hanging next to Harry’s. It allowed her to feel right at home, knowing Anne saw her as part of the family. 

Presents are something Bel is always nervous about giving. She loves wrapping presents and giving them to people she loves, but she’s always a bit anxious waiting to see their reactions, hoping they’d like it, knowing she bought it with them in mind. 

Bel got Anne “Love on Tour” cookie cutters from the famous bunny to one shaped of Harry. Anne thought they were absolutely perfect and promised to make a batch with them before they left for New Year’s. Bel got Gemma a vintage coat that Gem mentioned earlier in the year she had wanted but didn’t want to splurge on something. Bel talked with Harry, and he thought it was the perfect gift. 

In return, Anne knitted Bel a blanket. It was made of her favorite colors, and she promised to take good care of it. Bel knew it would be the blanket she used to travel everywhere with her. Gemma got Bel a tote with her initials embroidered and lyrics from her favorite song. It’s safe to say they nailed it with the gifts. 

Harry wanted to do presents in private, only sharing a small gift. Bel gifted Harry an ornament shaped as “pão de queijo,” and he got a big laugh out of it. He was quick to share it with the band’s group chat. He gave Bel socks with Naomi and Sarai’s faces on them. It was safe to say she was shocked, but she quickly put them on. 

As they cleaned up around the living room, opening up the gifts Harry got his family Bel got a call and excused herself. 

“You didn’t!” Naomi accuses over facetime. Bel can see them squished together to fit in the frame. 

“What are you talking about?”

“You did not buy us an all-exclusive trip to Greece.” 

“But I did,” she winces at the shriek Naomi lets out. 

“Thank you, Bel. It means the world to us,” Sarai thanked her. 

“It’s my pleasure.” 

Sarai and Naomi have both talked to Bel about a proposal in 2023, and what better place than to do it at their dream destination. 

“Your gift is being shipped to you,” Sarai promises. 

Bel shakes her head, “don’t even worry about it.” 

They remind her they love her and hang up, leaving her overwhelmed with the feeling of the love she has for them and excited for what the future has in store for her best friends. 

“Cariño, ready for presents?” Harry knocks on the door coming in with a box in his hand. 

“Ready, amor.” 

Harry gives you a few kisses before even thinking about unwrapping his presents.

“You’ll always be the best gift, Bel,” Harry promises her. 

Bel feels her face flush. “Harry,” she laughs. “I love you.” 

“I love you, baby.” 

Harry urges her to open her gifts first. Bel laughs at the wrapping paper scattered with rainbows and mermaids. She likes the paper so much she’s afraid to tear through it, but Harry’s excitement urges her to keep going.

She opens the box and finds two boxes inside. Bel opens the smallest first and finds an anklet with the letter H and his birthstone, amethyst, on it. She remembers the conversation they had months ago, well more like the conversation Harry had with Sarai about how birthstones are important and a common gift given to loved ones when they want to keep someone close to them. 

“It’s gorgeous, H. Taking a piece of you wherever I go.” 

“Course, lovie.” 

Bel can’t help herself and leans in to give him a kiss in thanks, then continues with her final present. It’s a heavier box, and she wonders what it could be. She’s careful to open it and finds a painted photo of Bel and Harry sitting on stage, wrapped up in each other, staring at each other with so much love. It’s her favorite photo.

“This is–wow,” she doesn’t even have the words to describe it. 

“Think it’ll look perfect in your house, maybe in your office,” he offers.

She shakes her head, “no, this would be perfect in the living room for everyone to see.” Bel reaches towards him, gently cups his cheek, and gives him a kiss expressing her gratitude. “Te amo, muchas gracias por todo.” 

“I love you, Bel. So much.” 

Bel knows she could stare at the painting all day but is excited for Harry to see his gift. 

“Your turn, amor.” 

Harry happily takes his box covered in snowflakes. He tears into it. There are two gifts inside waiting for him. The first gift is a pastel yellow robe with mi amor stitched on the left side, right over his heart. 

“I know you were upset about your purple robe having a tear.”

Harry clutches it close to his chest in appreciation, feeling the softness. “It’s wonderful. Thank you.” He reaches for the final item and shakes it. He hears a little clash and wonders what it could be. He opens the wooden box to find puzzle pieces sitting inside.

“It’s a puzzle.” He chuckles, surprised, but quickly begins to dump them on the bed and begins to solve it. Harry pauses as soon as he picks up the first piece and reads what it says. 

I love how perfectly I fit in your arms.

Harry looks at Bel before picking up another. 

Your smile never fails to make me happy.

“Bel,” he whispers in awe.

“Keep going.” 

Harry's smile deepens with each new puzzle piece, and Bel sees how proudly his dimples shine and knows she could happily make it her home. Once Harry places the final piece, he’s in near tears. It’s a few of the reasons she loves him. She wished she could list them all, but she knew it would be a never-ending puzzle. The final shape is a heart. He’s quick to snap a photo of it, then brings Bel to sit in his lap, beginning to shower her in kisses, thanking her for each piece with a kiss. 

“I got you a frame for it, too, if you want to display it, or you could keep it in the box.” 

Harry shrugs, blinking away his tears. “I don’t know. I want to be able to see this every day, but I also loved finding where each piece fit while reading about how much you love me.” 

“Whatever you want, mi amor.” 

“All I want is you.” 

She rolls her eyes. What a cheeseball. 

“Feliz navidad, mi vida. Te amo.”

“Happy Christmas, Bel. I love you.” 

Harry pressed his lips against Bel’s, tasting the sweet hot cocoa his mother made, savoring the taste until there was a loud yell of both their names. 

“Are you lovebirds done? I want Y/N on my team for charades,” Gemma yells, knocking them out of their own world. 

Harry grumbles about how Bel has to be his partner.

Yeah, it was the perfect Christmas.