#another quick simple edit

[sadgoosehours]

on earth we’re briefly gorgeous / ocean vuong

[johnpriceslamb]

𝐌𝐀𝐘 𝐈 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐓 𝐎𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐋𝐀𝐏?

❛ you ask the Van Der Linde boys if you could sit on their lap. ❜

BEFORE YOU PROCEED! ┊female ! reader . afab ! reader . reader is physically shorter than chars mentioned below . suggestive themes implied . wrds . not edited . not proof-read . Javier ver touchy . google translated Spanish . John is very drunk . 1.4k wrd-count

𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐔𝐑 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐀𝐍

You want to what?

You tinker your lashes multiple times innocently at his flabbergasted expression, unconsciously tilting your head at his dramatic approach. From your tone alone meant nothing but the most purest intentions, he knew well you mean no harm. But hearing those words made his cheeks burn a tad bit brighter.

“May I please— “No, no, I heard ya the first time- I just..” He abruptly cuts you. He narrows his eyes at you, sizing you up head-to-toe just to see if you were in a playful manner. You weren’t.

He grumbles softly, contemplating. He scratches behind his neck for a bit before a deep sigh escapes his mouth and he leans back on the wooden chair he sat upon.

“C’mere.”

He beckons you to come closer with two fingers lazily waving in the air. Immediately do you obey his simple commands like a lost pup, hands clasped prettily in-front of your chest as you easily plop yourself on his lap. Your back almost hits his chest, akin to a literal brick wall from all of the labour work he’s done. Unconsciously does his large hands come to your hips, positioning them slightly just so you’d be a tad bit more comfortable.

It’s easy to tilt your head upwards to see his face, the prickles of hair sticking out on his chin is the most prominent thing from your view. He feels your stare almost immediately and looks down at your beady eyes. He has to stop himself from grinning at your unawareness.

The cowpoke could only narrow his eyes at the soft giggle you produced from your mouth, a hand resting on your hip, “What?”

You look away with a tiny smile, “Nuthin’.”

He lets out another deep sigh, before pinching your cheek.

𝐉𝐎𝐇𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐍

The bottle of beer in his hand almost slips to the ground after hearing your simple question.

He raises a hand to scratch at the stubble on his jaw, mindful to be aware of the deep claw-marks embedded on his skin. The bottle was placed on the table with a clumsy clatter, back supported by the edge of the table.

“..Watchu say?” He squints his dark eyes at you. He must’ve drunk too much, perhaps he heard you wrong. His tone was always raspy yet so demeaning playful even. You took it as if he didn’t want you to, and you shrink meekly.

You stutter shyly, “I’ll just go ask someone else—

He felt his guts squeeze and churn at the sight of you sitting on someone else’s lap. All sense of proper etiquette is thrown away from jealousy and alcoholic behaviour, his hand is very quick to grabbing yours as he roughly pulls you back. A tiny squeal escapes your lap as you clumsily fall on his chest and onto his hard thighs.

Your hands are clinging onto his opened top to balance yourself, the smirk on his face visible as he sees how shy you suddenly became.

The strong scent of alcohol makes your nose scrunch up. He rests his chin on the crook of your neck, stubble lightly tickling your sensitive skin. After a few minutes of making yourself comfy on his lap and finally staying still, his hand comes to grab his bottle to take another chug.

“John,” You almost whine at the way he unconsciously starts to bounce his knee up and down. A habit he’s not prone to ever since he started drinking. It was almost like he forgot you were sitting on his lap after a few minutes. Immediately does he stop his movement, a low slurr of babbles and a soft hiccup escapes his lips, “Whoops— sorry ‘bout that, sweetheart.”

Suddenly, he cheekily stares down at you.

“Y’know,” He hics.

“Yer behind feels kinda good on my-

“John.”

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐇

He’s a bit clueless at first, bless his heart.

He’s busy carving a small piece of wood with his knife, hunched over as his long hair falls, covering the sides of his face almost elegantly. He wasn’t bothered to tie his hair back, nor raise a finger to place it behind his ear. He stops re-shaping the small piece of wood as he hears a soft patter of footsteps from in-front.

“Hm?” He hums, his guard lowers significantly once realising it was you. The knife is lowered too, and the items were placed afar so it does not distract you nor come in your way.

“May I please sit on your lap?” You ask with those big beady eyes of yours, hands behind your back as your tone is light and sweet.

Of course, silence is ensured for a few seconds. His brooding figure straightens up from his spot. He quirks a dark, angular brow at your much smaller figure.

“Why?” He asks with a straight face.

Your cheeks burn, and your expression was alike of a kicked pup. He catches on quickly, and he immediately feels bad for seeming so nonchalant and blunt.

“U-Um.. I just, I wanted to.. N-nevermind. Sorry.” You shyly stammer, akin to a doe whom tries to stand up for the first time.

He easily suppresses the smile which almost etched onto his face at your stuttering. Cute.

“I didn’t say no, y’know.” He gestures you to come over with a simple pat on his thigh. You beam, eagerly toddling to him like a tiny tot wanting to get her stuffies. You sit yourself on his thighs, shoes quite literally lifting off of the ground because of how big he was. Even if he sat down, he still always towered over you.

He allows you to wiggle a bit on his lap, but a hand comes down to rest on your knee to squeeze it a bit as a gentle warning to not go any higher. You do obey, of course. Your back is to his chest, your hands positioned on your lap as you almost melt at how warm he was.

“Comfortable?” At each word he uttered to you, it was more toned down in pitch, a low hum always started. You nod lazily, a smile of satisfaction of how comfy he felt underneath. You don’t mind the way he snakes his arms around your waist. “Good.”

𝐉𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐔𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐀

You regret asking.

Simply put, he’s handsy.

The smirk on his face is very visible. The log he rests upon feels even more smaller as he slowly starts to manspread right in front of you. The guitar in his hand is placed gently just to the side before he beckons you to come forth. You reluctantly sit on his lap, almost squirming at how close he was.

A hand on your hip, another squish to your thigh, a soft roll from his hip teasingly upwards, a touch here, a touch there..

“Javier!” You whine, swatting his hand off your curves. He could only teasingly grin, before shrugging. “..Tu pediste esto.” His voice serenades.

You try to swat his hands off again, but merely give up, knowing he won’t stop any time soon. You lay your cheek on his chest, lithe arms wrapped around his waist as your back arches a tad bit from not supporting your structure. His hands are on the small of your back, rubbing small circles on the softness of your clothed skin.

The embers from the mini camp-fire is light and descends off in the dark night, crackles of the wood calms your nerves down just a bit. He does tone his touch down just a tad bit for your sake, despite wanting to desperately grab at.. literally anything. He’s had ladies before, but by far was he the neediest when it came to you.

You can’t help but take a small peak from above, wispy lashes coming to tinker a bit when he tilts his gaze to fixate on you. A small smile on his face, as he greedily eats up all of the touch you gave to him.

“..hi.” You quietly mumble, a bit muffled because of the fact that half of your face is mushed against the fabrics of his clothes. A fox-like grin etches on his tan face as he presses a tiny kiss on your forehead, entertaining you by replying with a simple “hola.”

“You’re really clingy- and touchy. I hope you know that.” You grumble when his hand comes to cup your curves again.

He smiles lazily. “I know.”

[matsunoluvr]

୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ when the love and deepspace boys get jealous

warnings: pouty men, jealous xavier is a warning in itself, sorry if i mischaracterise…. and i also have favourites LOLL

characters: sylus, zayne, rafayel, xavier

link to master list here!

author notes: all i can think of is pouty rafayel and jealous xavier my brain is a melted goop of lnds brainrot… also sorry for not posting in a while i was on holiday!!

also quick reminder that i have requests open but 1. i’ll get to them slowly and 2. please read my pinned post about rules!

more under the cut ~

out of the four men i think sylus is the least jealous - now let me elaborate that possessiveness and jealousy (in my eyes) are very different

if you talk to another man, sylus both trusts you and has enough faith in himself to know that no matter what the dude does, sylus is yours and you’re his

he trusts you 100%, without a shadow of a doubt. and this translates through his lack of jealousy when you spend time with other people

however, if the man even attempts to lay a finger on you, his tone becomes too sweet or his hand inches a bit too close and you’re getting uncomfortable?

you bet your ass sylus is interfering.

immediately shifts his body to create distance between you and the other party

he flashes a dangerous look at the other man, evol glowing dangerously as it whispers a small warning into the other’s ear

“Stay away and you get to stay alive.”

he seriously doesn't fuck around when it comes to your comfort and safety, and if he feels that another man is compromising it or pushing the boundaries it really ticks him off

when does sylus get jealous?

mostly when you start to spend less time with him and more time with others

it’s not as if as soon as you spend time with someone else he gets jealous, but if it causes you to start to ignore him/spend less time with him he gets jealous

when he gets jealous, he doesn’t hide it at all

sylus isn’t one to keep his feelings from you, so when you see his displeasured frown you know immediately something is up

he doesn’t get angry or petty when jealous, he just makes it clear that he’s not happy with the division of attention

when you ask him what’s up, he gives you the answer plain and simple

“Getting bored of me already? How come you’re spending more time with […] than me, I’m jealous.”

his voice is slow and clearly unimpressed, crossing his arms as he looks you up and down.

luckily for you, he’s not hard to win over

spend time with him, even if it’s not active such as going out to restaurants or to one of his formal events

the two of you sitting in comfortable silence, him reading a magazine and you looking through moments, that’s more than enough for him

he’s not opposed to displays of physical affection either, cuddling or kisses to his face - anything that tells him “you’re mine/i’m yours” will satisfy him

just make sure not to spend TOO much time with the other person, otherwise sylus might seriously hunt them down

he’d never make you jealous on purpose, he had no interest in other women/men at all and respects you way too much to pull petty moves like that

when sylus accidentally makes you jealous, he’ll definitely pamper you, spoil you with gifts and spend time with you

wanted to get the new limited edition plushie? he’ll stay in the arcade with you until you get all of them. wanted a new game on steam? he’s bought both the game, all the dlcs and any in game passes and currency.

Somewhere at some point during the day he'll simply come clean about it, after all he's a straight forward man and he trusts you.

"I'm sorry sweetie, I didn't mean to make you jealous. Forgive me, please?"

tldr; sylus is a love sick loser that knows you’re equally in love with him as he is with you

here goes the award to the most composed LI - zayne gets jealous alright, not nearly as much as the coming two but he still gets jealous

it's not that he doesn't trust you, but watching you smile so brightly to the café employee or get a little too friendly with another doctor sets him on edge

if you're talking to male friends/giving them friendly hugs zayne's completely fine with it, he's happy to see you surrounded by people who care for you and for you to be happy too

at first it's hard to tell when zayne gets jealous, he has a poker face that would put lady gaga to shame

however, after a while you discover the few subtleties that give away his disgruntled state

for example, if you're talking a bit too excitedly or friendly to the barista - especially one you'd both met just today - there'd be a little crease in his forehead, his mouthwould be a fraction more downturned and his eyes a bit narrower as if he was squinting

or if you talk to him about a male colleague when you two were supposed to be out on a date, he'd definitely be jealous... however the only give away would be the faintest purse of his lips and twitch of his eyebrow

if you ask him if he's jealous he's going to deny it, he usually doesn't lie but when it comes to vulnerable emotions such as jealousy i feel he'd have difficulties expressing them

"Jealous? I'm not jealous, don't worry about me."

but then the right side of his mouth is twitching a little and if you focus hard enough he gives the impression of a kicked puppy, a very subtle hint of 'give me attention'

if you manage to learn the art of 'zayne expression reading' and finally notice that he's not 'lactose-intolerant-and-having-stomach-issues-causing-him-to-look-like-that' but in fact jealous, here's a few ways to heal your zayne!!

zayne specialists recommend a good dosage of subtle affections - e.g. bringing up one of his interests or reminiscing upon something you two did in the past, basically indicating to him 'hey, i still love you most in the world!'

he's a perceptive man and will pick up on what you're doing relatively quick, and his little grumpy face will relax back into the unconscious, soft smile he adopts when in your presence

if he accidentally makes you jealous, he makes sure you know more than anyone else in the world that he's yours and yours only.

reciprocates the small gestures such as holding your hand in public or introducing you to his colleagues

"Good afternoon to you too. I believe you haven't met [Y/N] before?"

and then he'll adjust his hand placement, sliding from patting your shoulder to gentle resting on the small of your back, a little intimate gesture that screams "I'm their partner."

makes sure by the end of the day he's got the message across, and at one point brings it up (even though you've basically forgotten what he did to make you jealous anyways)

"I didn't mean to upset you, [Y/N]. I love you only, no one else could replace you, I promise."

okay, yeah, we made it to jealous, pouty, bratty man territory

there’s an evident gap between zayne level jealousy and rafayel level jealousy

don’t get me wrong, rafayel would do anything you asked of him - partially because of his whole lumerian bond and also because he’s utterly whipped for you

does he love you? that’s a stupid question to ask oh course he does… but does he truly trust you?

i’d like to think that rafayel (if he was dating you in this situation) is absolutely devoted to you and trusts you wholeheartedly, but in reality rafayel has deep engraved fears and uncertainties

he has a fear of being forgotten about, and likely (as a consequence of being forgotten multiple times) - the idea of being abandoned or replaced sends physical chills down his spine

so honestly, rafayel’s jealousy stems from the unwavering fear of being left alone, lost and forgotten again…

the pain of being forgotten, it’s not something he’s willing to go through any more, causing it to be difficult to fully reassure him that you’re his.

on a more lighter, more playful level, rafayel’s jealousy would probably lay with animals - specifically cats and sea creatures

one day he finds that instead of lazing about with him indoors, that you were outside napping with a cat on your lap

if he wasn’t so afraid of the cat concerned for your quality and length of sleep he would’ve had a go at the cat as it smirked triumphantly at him, licking its paws as it rolls around in your lap.

when complaining later on he would be his usual, petulant self, pouting and crossing his arms, tilting his chin up etc

“I guess you prefer those furry monsters over a fishie like me, why don’t you just leave me for one?”

to fix this petty brattiness is simple!

simply devote all your attention and affections to rafayel, as in when you two are alone and spending time together you can just pat his head or trace his beauty marks

he’ll be pouting the whole time, but after a few pats he’ll get embarrassed and his ears will go red as he says something like “I’m not a cat…” yet he still lets you pet him lol

rafayel especially likes it when you gently stroke at the roots of his hair, leaning into your touch a little every time you thread deeper into his hair

however, if you spend too much time with another man rather than rafayel, it’s a whole different type of jealousy/insecurity

he’s quiet, too quiet, and withdrawn

the situation was deeply confusing the first time around

it’s as if you ordered the wrong rafayel, what happened to his usual bratty and playful personality? this wasn’t like all the other times.

unlike his childish display of jealousy when you were with the cat, this time he had a schooled expression, blank, a facade

his expression was eerie, you’d never seen him like this, so… emotionless seeming

rafayel, really, was emotionally detaching from the relationship - he still loves you oh my god he adores you so much he’d sacrifice everything he had for you, but the idea of you preferring that other person over him?

it sends him into panic, and all he (believed he) could do was numb himself, anticipate the leave or him getting forgotten

(am i projecting too much here… avoidant attachment rafayel believer and lover 😞🙏)

if he withdrew from the relationship first, maybe it would hurt less being left again

of course you weren’t intending to leave him, so how do you fix this?

well, as unhealthy as this may seem, spending less time with the new person and more time with rafayel really would be the only way i could think of making him feel better

saying things such as “Rafayel I would never leave you.” can only provide him with short-term reassurance, after all how many times have you said that before and then still proceeded to leave him?

instead, caress him gently, give him time to feel safe in the relationship again. late night calls where you two fall asleep together or hold him in your arms as you two both sleep at night

this avoidant attachment style will, however, probably go when you two start dating, since in dating you rafayel has probably decided to let you into his heart and whole heartedly trusts you now :)

if rafayel accidentally makes you jealous, depending on the severity (again) here’s what he’d do

if it was a simple thing (such as spending too much time with the shakes idk something more tame) he’d definitely tease you

“Awwh cutie? Getting jealous of the sharks? Don’t worry, I prefer you over them any day.”

he’ll have this smug ass grin that pisses you off, as much as it makes you love him too

rafayel will give you more hugs and gifts than usual for a while after, claiming it’s ‘nothing’ and that you’re ’hallucinating things’ when you ask what he’s doing

really he’s apologising, but you don’t need to know that

if he made you really jealous/upset he’ll make is extremely clear to you that he belongs to you, his heart and will is yours

will become more clingy and affectionate with you (not that he does it on purpose infact he’s only showing his true desires more), forever. like, you get jealous? don’t worry, literally for the rest of your life you’ll know that rafayel is head-over-heels for you.

tldr: he needs a hug :( also i ended up writing way more than intended but im a rafayel lover, writer and if he has no stans left im dead

here he is, the most jealous and arguably possessive man in lnd.

xavier tries to hide it, but everyone knows that he’s yours, without a shadow of a doubt

we all saw what happened with jeremiah, don’t make me pull out the receipts LOL. like jeremiah was just happy to finally see the girl xavier was lining over for centuries and xavier was already losing his shit 😭

literally anyone talking to you too affectionately will tick him off, but xavier’s too sly to make it obvious

you’re talking to a doctor (cough zayne) ? xavier brings up some sort of old medicine they don’t or asks about their speciality so you stop talking to them

talking to a protocore specialist? he’ll all of a sudden be holding a textbook worthy protocore, worth the poor persons whole shop

a florist? he’s pointing at every flower and naming them, both common and scientific name.

“Oh [Y/N], look at that flower. I believe it’s called a Lonicera periclymenum?”

*turns to face the clearly shocked and flustered florist with a polite smile*

“Well, maybe you know it as a honeysuckle, is that correct?”

after living for so long he’s learnt many things, and boy does he use it to his advantage

when xavier gets jealous, he doesn’t expect anything from you, no no, this man is a service boyfriend if i’ve ever seen one, he was MADE to please you

rather than thinking “oh you don’t like me anymore i’m so upset“ he thinks “i need to serve and show you i’m yours.”

do you like sweet things? he’s buying you chocolates of all kinds, if that’s not your jam he’s got pastries, or candy, or fresh fruit, maybe everything in a little gift box

prefer savoury foods? he’ll cook you a meal that he knows you like (even if you don’t trust the food) he’ll practice making it until you like it

if you talk about another person when you’re one on one with him, he’ll do little things to get your attention, maybe bite your finger softly or tuck hair behind your ear, little fleeting touches and such

cheeky little grins and conversational diversions such as 'Oh? What about you, how did you do in the exam?' or 'What were you buying in the supermarket?' - more ways of saying "i'm yours, don't forget"

but if you wanted to reassure xavier, physical affections such as cuddling and kisses can win him over

nap with him for a few nights (really he forgave you the first night, he just pretended to be grumpy with you for a while longer for more naps) and he’ll be satisfied (for now)

“Come cuddle with me starlight, I’ve still not forgiven you.”

(he’s lying, he forgave you like a week ago)

likes it when you play with his hair when you two cuddle - now this makes me want to write abt how the men cuddle lol

if he accidentally makes you jealous it’d probably be when the two of you are on a mission and he flirts with another woman to easily progress through a mission

the two of you are in the hotel room and you’re sulking in the bed, turning away from him and clearly displeased

xavier knows you’re jealous, and can only huff out an amused breath - he doesn’t like that you’re feeling bad but he’s happy that you’re jealous… means you like him as much as he likes you!

he gently walks over to the bed, shifting onto the duvet beside you and reaches out to touch your shoulder - making sure you’re okay with him touching you

if you let him, he’ll lie down next to you and slowly wrap his arms around you, spooning you from behind as he slowly kisses the top of your head

slipping your shirt down to just below your shoulder, he gives the skin of your back gentle kisses as he apologises

“I’m sorry, it was for the mission. I’ve only ever loved you, so please don’t be angry.”

and then he nuzzled into your back until you finally cave in, twisting around and hugging him back.

he’ll be seriously apologetic about it though, and in the future avoid such intimate forms of gathering information even *if* you told him it was okay

AN; i got way too carried away with rafayel ANYWAYS hope you enjoy and now i want to write smaller hcs on how the men cuddle lolol

also this isn’t proofread no beta we die like caleb ig

[ahqkas]

Could you do the bamboos doing the tiktok trend a boy who jacket and kind please

♯JACKED AND KIND ( the batboys doing the ‘jacked and kind’ tiktok trend with you ! )

— gn!reader, dick & jason & tim ( separated ), cursing, not edited

© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified

. . . DICK GRAYSON !

this man would literally be so hyped about doing the trend with you!!

your boyfriend stood behind you as you positioned your phone just right, angling it to catch the best angles. he doing some simple stretches, probably the same ones he did whenever he got ready for one of his patrols. you watched in the reflection your phone provided how his navy blue shirt fit his torso, wrapping and stretching around the muscles without any real effort to show off his broad shoulders and muscular arms. you could also point out the faintest smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. he knew exactly how good he looked.

“okay,” you took a step backwards toward him once you were satisfied with the preparation. “don’t let me down.”

a chuckle left his throat at your words while he met you halfway in the steps, taking a few steps forward so he could be standing behind you in order to record the trend. “baby, letting you down isn’t part of my vocabulary. lifting you up, on the other hand . . .” he trailed off with a wink and you managed to lightly slap his bicep before the countdown went off and the video started recording.

the song started playing from the phone — “slim pickins” by sabrina carpenter — and you tensed into position, facing the camera. you felt the warmth of his large hands on your hips before he touched you ( his touch was steady, as if he had done this a million times before ).

with an almost effortless motion, dick lifted you up in the air for a second before you made contact with his shoulder. you squealed in surprise from how quickly the whole thing happened and tried to balance yourself on top of him. he adjusted his grip on your knees while flexing his biceps for the camera, showing off the pure muscle with a large grin etched on his pretty face.

he looked confident, like he was the first man to ever grace the earth, even swaying a bit on his feet. show-off. the song continued playing, and just as the lyrics — “a boy who’s jacked and kind” — faded, dick followed it by lowering your body down in a quick move, catching you in a bridal style before you could even process what was happening.

“dick!” you couldn’t help but gasp this time. you haven’t seen this feature in the trending videos yet, and you were pretty sure you two would end up viral with just this move alone. you could picture the comments already.

“get a room”

“i miss my future bf”

“ON MY PHONE? ON MY WIFI? ON MY ACCOUNT??”

he really was jacked and kind.

. . . JASON TODD !

jason would kill this trend without even trying.

you had been begging him for the last hour about doing one of those new trending tiktok videos. the ones where couples did something ridiculously romantic which caused the whole comment section to show what’s it like to be born a hater (“so cute!! BLOCKED” “reacted "👍🏻" to your message” “i’m sleeping on a highway tonight guys” ). jason had been through countless trends already, but you were extra set on doing this trend with him.

“jason, come on! it’ll be fun, i promise.”

he dropped the book he was reading on the coffee table with a dramatic sigh, turning to look you in the eye. “i swear, every time i turn around, there’s another damn trend going viral.”

but there was no real annoyance in the tone of his voice. he could act all rough and nonchalant, but deep down, he adored you with all his heart and soul. he’d never admit it aloud, but you got him feeling things he didn’t quite know how to process.

you looked over at him with those pleasing eyes he could never resist. “please, jay?”

letting out the biggest sigh you’ve ever heard, your boyfriend stood up from the couch and walked over to where you were standing in front of your phone. “you’re lucky you’re cute,” he muttered under his breath lowly with those beefy arms crossed at his chest.

“i promise this will be the last one.”

“uh-huh.” jason didn’t want it to be the last one.

you turned your head over your shoulder to look at him while you set your phone up. “you know how this works, right? just pick me up and place me on your shoulder.”

you didn’t have a single doubt about him not being able to pick you up. jason was a big guy, he could manhandle you all you he wanted without breaking a sweat, you knew that. he was going to pick you up.

“alright, sweetheart. get over here.”

the song started playing as soon as the timer was up and you felt his hands sliding up your thighs as he bend over a bit before he wrapped his forearms around the meat of your legs. he picked you up effortlessly like you weighed nothing, not a single sound of protest leaving his lips from the motion. your laugh filled the room when you made contact with his broad shoulder and you wrapped your arm around his neck, leaning slightly closer to him for the video to capture.

jason didn’t flex his arms, didn’t need to show his strength off. he simply wrapped his hands around your thighs, fingers kneading the soft muscles as he helped you balance yourself so you wouldn’t fall and make a blooper instead.

“see? no big deal.”

. . . TIM DRAKE !

tim was never one to enjoy attention, especially not the one that came with being on camera.

but when you, with your sweet smile and convincing voice, had asked him to do yet another one of your tiktok trends, he couldn’t really say no.

“tim, please? you’ll love it, i promise,” you pleaded with him, already setting up your phone with the timer set straight on because you knew he wouldn’t resist you. he never did.

and he didn’t this time, either. “what’s this trend about again?”

you practically bounced over to where he was standing with pure excitement written all over your face. “it’s a lifting one. i just need you to pick me up exactly when the songs say ‘a boy who’s jacked and kind’. simple, right?”

“i really don’t think–“

“oh, come on! you’re strong, and you’re always complaining i never let you have fun. this is fun, tim.”

at that, he let out a long sigh while his hand rubbed the back of his neck. he was thinking, deep in thoughts. but you were really really really hard to resist when you got like this — all pleading and loving with him. you had this look in your eye, he had realized, one that said you would never stop bugging him until you got your way. and he realized he was down bad for that look.

“fine. but if i drop you, don’t blame me.”

tim stepped into position behind you, his eyes narrowing as he mentally braced for the lift before the video could ever start. he wasn’t sure how exactly this was supposed to go, but it didn’t look that complicated, right? it was just about picking you up and holding you there for a few seconds. simple. yet, he couldn’t help but overthink the whole thing.

his stance was little awkward, with his hands hovering near your waist as if he wasn’t entirely sure of his footing, trying to maintain that balance between not looking too stiff and not being too casual either.

for a split second, everything was going perfectly. your boyfriend had you in his arms, effortlessly supporting you on his shoulder while your laughter erupted from your throat. you knew tim would be perfect for this trend. but that’s when things went sideways.

his feet shuffled under him and he lost his footing on the carpet beneath him. his balance wavered which caused yours to do just as same, and before he could adjust and save the situation, your body slipped a little too far to one side. tim’s eyes widened, and he made a split-second decision to shift his hands, trying to catch you before you fell completely.

everything happened so fast.

you were halfway to the floor when his arm shot out, catching you by the waist just in time. for a second, it looked like he might’ve actually saved the moment — then his grip faltered, and you were both tumbling to the ground in a tangled mess of limbs.

“ah!”

the two of you collapsed together, but your boyfriend managed to twist in the last moment, taking most of the fall with his own body before you could hit the floor completely. he groaned softly under you with his chest rising and falling rapidly as you lay on top of him, your face flushed with a mix of embarrassment and laughter.

“you almost dropped me.”

“i did drop you,” he replied dryly, but his voice held no real frustration — just the tiniest hint of amusement as he looked up at you.

it might’ve not been a video that would kill the whole trend, but it was a video that would never fail to make you smile. and that was enough for you.

[bunni-v1]

how do you think lighter would handle the reader after learning it is going to be their first time aka a virgin reader x lighter

Lighter and Virgin!Reader

🍓Yayay! I wanted to really take my time to write this one, so sorry that I didn't get it out super quick. Wrote it while listening to Christmas music btw, probably gonna write smth smutty for Christmas now. I've never written full-on smut outside of an RP setting so... apolocheese if this is cringe. You can throw tomatoes at me, I will eat them like the rodent I am.

Minors DNI

TW: NSFW; First time!; sickeningly sweet lighter; grammar errors probably lol (I promise I edit my stuff).

Info: Lighter x Reader; Nsfw; Fluffy; no pronouns but reader is fem bodied

Lighter is, and always has been, a rather simple man. While he loves you and respects you more than anything in the world, he too has thoughts that any man might have. It was only natural that he found you... mmm... titillating. You were his partner after all, and you were very good-looking if you asked him.

So many times he's found you on his lap, or beneath him whichever comes easiest at the time, drowning in your sweet lips. His hands wandered over your clothed sides, desperate for a taste of the real thing. He was addicted to you, and sweet candies couldn't placate him this time. It was heavenly having you in his grasp, so very close to everything he'd been dreaming about.

The only issue was that you always seemed to have some excuse to push him away. He'd fisted his cock one too many times alone in his room after another failed encounter, and he just didn't get it. You always seemed so eager, so pliant, right up until he slid his hands below your shirt.

The second his fingers made contact with the soft, oh-so-tempting skin there you would jump like he'd burned you. Then you'd push his eager hands down and come up with some lame reason to leave. He understood that maybe you weren't ready, that was okay, but didn't you feel safe enough to tell him? No, surely something else was going on. He could tell, there was something else that was holding you back, and he was going to figure it out.

Tonight would be the perfect chance to do just that. The girls were busy doing their own thing at the bar, leaving him with all the free time in the world to be alone with you. As usual, he had you on his lap, mouths working against each other. His tongue pressed into yours, happily exploring its space as he swallowed up your whimpers and whines.

Fingers press into your thighs like a vice, desperate for all the skin they can get their hands on. As you wind your fingers into his hair, he takes it as his sign to slide his hands up to your hips, slowly pressing you down into him. You jolt a little in his grasp, drawing a low chuckle from the back of his throat. So cute.

You pull back from him, a thin string of saliva keeping you connected, eyes wide and face flushed. Your chest heaves with effort, and your hair is an absolute disaster. It makes his cock twitch in his jeans, another gasp falling from your pretty swollen lips at the sensation.

"Lighter..." You say breathlessly, and he knows its meant to be a scolding remark, but he just finds it too cute.

He cocks his head to the side, "What? Too much to handle?"

You give him an eye roll that is all too endearing, trying and failing to straighten out your messy hair, "It's getting late, I should probably head to mine soon."

His smile falls from his face, disappointed again, like clockwork. He can't even find it in himself to hide it anymore, which makes you frown too. You press a kiss on his cheek, apologetically, "What's wrong? Why is my champion pouting?"

The pet name is almost enough to get him to forget everything, but then you shift on his lap a little and his hard-on screams at him to at least get some kind of answer. So he sighs, patting the meat of your thigh almost sadly, "Why do you always do that?"

You raise an eyebrow, which he mirrors. You know better than to play dumb, Lighter can see right through the schtick. Your demeanor cracks first, and you seem genuinely nervous as you respond, "I don't know..."

"Listen, baby. If you're not ready all you gotta do is tell me--" He tries to soothe you, because he doesn't want you to be upset. There was no shame in just not being ready, but you cut him off before he can finish his reassurances.

"No, it's not-" A grumble leaves your chest, "I want to, I really do I just... I get nervous."

It's his turn to raise an eyebrow at you, sunglasses slanting down his nose as he tilts his head curiously, "What's there to be nervous about...?"

You fluster, looking anywhere your eyes can find that wasn't him. You were awfully cute when you were embarrassed, but he couldn't let himself get distracted. With the gentlest touch to your chin, he refocuses your attention on him. A reassuring smile on his face, urging you without words to tell him what was wrong.

Some kind of war goes on behind your pretty little eyes, and he has to tap your lip with his thumb to center you again. You pout against the finger, and it takes everything in him not to push it up and into your mouth. Finally, after what seemed like ages of waiting, you give another sigh. "I'm... a virgin."

"Oh," he says, automated like a robot. It takes his brain a moment to click the gears together, but once they do, he nods. Oh. That makes so much sense.

"I'm sorry," you mumble, pressing off his chest to get up, but he tugs you back into his lap. Giving you a reassuring squeeze, praying to whatever there was out there for you to give him a moment to collect his thoughts.

It really isn't a big deal to him, not at all. He'd taken people's virginity before - former partners he doesn't even remember the names of - but you. Getting to be your first? It felt like the world had both blessed and cursed him at the same time. You didn't have a good frame of reference, which was great. He'd be the best partner you've had. Yet... he'd also be the only partner you've had, and that was a lot of pressure to put on a guy like him.

"Lighter?" You squeak out, face all nervous and cute in a way that just drives him wild.

A huff leaves him before he can think better of it, causing you to frown a little. His arms wrap around your middle, tugging you closer to him, "That's all? Here you had me thinking you weren't attracted to me all of a sudden."

The response takes you off guard, eyebrows shooting up in surprise. Had you genuinely thought that would be a turn-off for him? What do you take him for, some prude? "I- I mean, you know... I don't have any experience, and I figured since... since you had it would just-"

He hushes you, trying his best not to laugh at how ridiculous the thought is. Most guys would leap to be in his shoes, it was a loser's wet dream to take some innocent angel like you and ruin you. Not Lighter, though. Despite how many times he'd fucked his hand thinking about your pretty little body, he would make sure your first time was perfect. He really needed it to be perfect.

"I don't care about that, baby." There's a teasing lilt in his tone that sends shockwaves down your spine, "I just want you to be happy."

It was your turn to be dumbfounded, staring at him like he had spoken forbidden texts in tongues you didn't understand. He tilts your head with the hand still holding your chin, and it's incredibly sexy the way his sunglasses dip a little so you can see the genuineness in his eyes.

"Would it make you happy if I took your virginity?" You give a slow, dumb nod, and he presses closer, "Do you wanna try tonight?"

Lighter watches with thinly veiled amusement as the pieces slip into place for you, face so warm he could feel it at this distance. You seem to have stalled a bit, so he gives you an award-winning smile and taps your lips to remind you to use them.

"Yes. Please." You blurt out, and it's so incredibly unsexy and awkward, but he still bites his lip like you were sex incarnate.

He gives you all but three seconds to admire the (so, so incredibly hot) look on his face before he's picking you up with no effort, hands wrapped under the swell of your ass like they were made to be there. You cling to his shoulders like a lifeline, and his cock strains in his stupidly tight jeans as he imagines you doing so without the jacket between your skin.

"Where are we going?" You ask, voice uneasy.

He smirks at you, "You didn't seriously think I was gonna let your first time be on some dingy outdoor couch, did you?"

You're silent all the way to his quarters after that, warm face buried into the crook of his shoulder. He can feel how nervous you are in the shaky breaths you let puff out onto his neck. He gives your butt a reassuring pat, which only makes you burrow yourself further into his neck.

He doesn't get to see your face again until he carefully lies you on his bed, and he's glad for it too. The nervous shimmer in your eyes would've been enough for him to bend you over any surface in a heartbeat. Your teeth nibble awkwardly on your swollen bottom lip, and he resists the urge to take it in between his own, instead busying his hands with shrugging off his jacket so he doesn't do exactly that.

You look near terrified when he climbs on top of you, so leans down to kiss your forehead, and in the gentlest voice he can muster whispers, "We'll go slow, but we gotta take our clothes off if we wanna do anything, m'kay?"

You give him a slow nod, slowly drifting your eyes down to his tight-fitting t-shirt. Once you seem to calm a little, he leans down and starts right where you left off. Capturing your lips in a soft kiss, slowly easing back into the passion from earlier. His hips press into yours, but they remain still against your heat. He would let you decide when you were ready for that again.

His hands eagerly slid around your thighs, squeezing the fat between his fingers and sighing as they sank against his touch. Always so malleable, it was addictive, but he couldn't get ahead of himself. This was all about you, after all.

Slowly, he inched his digits up to the edge of your shirt, pooling the fabric between them. You give a little jolt, pressing against his crotch a little harder than he expected drawing a hiss from between his teeth. He rubs his nose against yours, "Can we get rid of your shirt?"

Another slow, unsure nod, and he's easing you up just enough that he can tug the offending fabric up and out of the way. (No bra, thank god, he sucks at removing them.) The sight it reveals better than Lighter could've begun to imagine. Your chest rises and falls with your breath, mesmerizing him. You give him an unsure smile, nodding your head along with it, and he thinks he might genuinely die tonight.

He does not suddenly go into cardiac arrest, so instead his hands glide over your stomach, and it's everything he dreamed of and more. The skin is like heaven beneath his calloused fingertips, and the light whimpers and whines you give him are honey in his ears. You shift with every touch, jerking away and then easing into his touch. Unsure, but oh so willing and wanting.

He maps out each inch of your skin like he might lose his way exploring it, tracing all the way to the final destination of your chest. Your nipples are hard already in combination with his touching and the cold air around you. He gives you one last look, one last chance to tell him no, and then he runs his thumb over the tops of them.

The sound you make is delicious, something between a moan and a strangled choking noise -- almost confused at the pleasure you are feeling. He rolls them in his fingers a few times, watching your face intently as he does so. Your confused moans melt into sighs of contentment, so he decides to try his luck with his mouth. With your head rolled back, he ensures you can feel his breath before he presses his tongue to your skin.

You shoot up, gasping in surprise, but you don't make any move to push him away. No, instead you rake your fingers through his hair, pushing his shaggy bangs back so you can really look at him. Those emerald eyes lock with yours, making a show of slowly kissing his way back up to your chest. Along the contours of your collarbones, between the valley of your breasts, and finally right down to your perky bud.

Lighter takes a moment to really appreciate just how nice it looks up close, rather than through the fabric of your tank tops. Just the perfect size for sucking on, he thinks right before he engulfs the needy thing in his mouth. You throw your head back, chest hefting with your cry of "Fuck, Lighter."

He hums, only making it so much worse for you, the vibrations sending a shock through your body that makes you twist your hips just right. He takes his sweet time with your breasts, alternating between the two until you're a messy puddle below him. He hadn't even gotten past the waistband of your pants yet, and you were already so far gone. It was an ego booster, to say the least.

His free hand draws its way down your stomach, stopping at the edge of your pants. They dance their way along your abdomen, just itching to be let in, but not willing to disrespect your boundaries. Lucky for him, they don't have to wait long, and your own join him and carefully aid him in their removal.

It's then that he finally gives your chest a break, pulling back to tug your pants down your legs. Giving himself the time to finally admire you. He'd left... more than a few purple marks along your chest, all of which he thinks look incredibly nice in the light of the moon. His eyes trace their way down your stomach, just like his hands had, and land on the underwear you still had on.

They weren't particularly cutesy or sexy, but on you, it was the hottest thing he'd seen in years. They had a sizable wet spot in the middle, right where he wanted- no, needed to be. The only thing standing between him and tasting you was that thin piece of fabric.

A tug at the hem of his shirt draws him out of his daze, meeting eyes with your cute, nervous ones. It takes him a second to realize you wanted his shirt off, but once he gets the message, he wastes no time in shrugging it to the ground. Following it with his pants, leaving him in his boxers.

Your eyes trace their way along his figure, over his shoulders, across his stomach, and settle shyly on the outline of his dick. It only occurs to him then that you might find him just as attractive as he finds you. With eyes blown wide and distracted as you drink him all in, it's hard to avoid how much you're admiring the view right now.

He has the decency to act embarrassed, despite how he was practically drooling all over you just a few moments ago. He shivers when you reach up and trace your fingers over a scar, breath catching in his throat. "They're so pretty," you mutter, completely unaware that you had said that out loud. It could honestly make him cry. The way you look at him like he's some kind of art piece. So much love and admiration in your eyes. He can't handle it for long, even though you seem to be content just admiring his scars.

He grabs your hand, intertwining your fingers together as he presses you back into the mattress. You let out a huff as he pressed his forehead to yours, pouting now that he had interrupted your show. He gives you a few apologetic kisses, smiling at your pouting.

"Are you sure you wanna keep going, we can stop now if you want," he whispers, soft and gentle.

You nod, confident this time, "I'm ready. I wanna do this with you, Lighter. Not anyone else."

That makes his heart swell, sending the feeling right down to his dick, throbbing and reminding him he needs to prepare you. He wasn't usually one to brag, but he knew he was big, and it would be a tough take for your first time. If he wanted you to enjoy it, he'd have to take care to loosen you up first.

"Okay," he hums, reaching over to grab the lube and condoms from his nightstand, setting them nearby for when he needs it, "I'm gonna have to loosen you up first, and it's gonna hurt. You sure you can take it?"

He feels your muscles contract as he trails gentle, feather-light pecks along the edge of your underwear. "You'll take care of me, just like you always do..." Ah, you were gonna be the death of him tonight, he just knows it.

He hooks his fingers over the sides of your underwear, carefully tugging them down your legs like unwrapping a present he didn't want to ruin. What a gift he received as he threw the useless fabric to the floor, your pretty little cunt already drooling for him.

"God..." He mutters out, enchanted at the very sight. He adjusts his position one last time, making sure he is perfectly positioned in front of your gorgeous pussy. The view is something straight out of a porno, Lighter's messy hair shadowing his eyes as they stare into your very being, big hands gripping at your thighs -- like he was readying himself to consume you whole.

"You ready, baby?" He asks one last time, though it's painfully hard to do so now that he was literally right where he wanted to be, "Cause if you're not you better say so now, I don't think I could stop myself once I start, angel."

You give him the slowest nod known to man, followed by a timid little 'yes' and he's gone. His strong arms wrap under and rest atop your thighs, carefully pulling your folds apart to reveal the shining pearl he'd been dreaming of. Involuntarily he huffs out a hot breath, causing you to squirm a little in his grasp, and then he leans down and kisses your clit.

You jolt at the new sensation, another awkward breathy moan leaving your lips. He pulls back to give you a second, watching your expressions and committing them all to mind, and then he licks his lips and leans down for another wet kiss against your neglected bud. Then another, and another, and another, and at some point his tongue joins the barrage but you have no idea when. Too caught up in how good he's making you feel. So much better than your own fingers.

Lighter is in heaven, completely surrounded by nothing but you. Your little sighs, your skin, your sweet smell, and of course your juices dripping down his chin. You tasted so amazing, better than all the candies he ate. He swallowed you like a man starved, arguably more desperate for your pleasure than you were. Your little whines of his name only fueled him to suck on the little bud like a sweet treat, humming at the taste.

He wondered how many more moans he could get out of you if he added a finger... He had to stretch you out anyway, seems like now was better a time than any. One hand unwound itself from under your leg, snaking along the sheets right up under your bum.

Without taking his eyes or mouth off you he gently traces around your hole with his middle and index. Your hips grind up into his mouth, and he feels the way you clench against his fingertips. A smile grows on his face, god you were adorable, weren't you? He presses the tip of his finger into your heat, and you squeeze around it sucking him in like nothing.

"Shit..." He groans against you, the grumble going right through your nerves drawing a delicious moan out of you. He slowly pumps his finger at the same pace as his tongue, when it rolls across your clit, the finger presses up into you again. The white, hot pleasure that curls up your spine and through your body makes you arch your back. If he kept it up like this, you would cum faster than you ever had before.

Unfortunately, he pulls back and you whine like a needy child. He presses his thumb to your clit instead of his mouth as compensation, rolling in sweet little circles. Not nearly as pleasurable, but still enough to make your head spin, especially when you watch him press his cheek to your thigh to watch his own ministrations.

He is mesmerized by the way your hips jerk into his touch, his finger disappearing and reappearing over and over awfully stimulating for his relatively blank mind. His eyes lazily roll up to yours, smirking when he sees you watching him with lidded ones. "You like it, baby?"

You mutter an incoherent sound of approval, head falling back to the pillows, but that doesn't do it for him. He grabs your face with his free hand, focusing your expression on him yet again. As he does so, he eases a second finger in and you let out the most sinful moan of his name he's ever heard. He presses a kiss against your inner thigh, encouraging you to keep making those pretty noises.

He keeps on watching you, eyes having trouble focusing on both your face and your messy cunt. They're both such a good show, how could he be expected to pick which one was better. All the while he was sucking marks into your inner thigh, adding to the growing coil below your naval.

It was all too much for your poor little untouched body. His eyes watching you so carefully, the sting of his teeth on your thighs, his calloused thumb rubbing delightfully perfect circles against your swollen clit. You couldn't even think about anything other than how nice his fingers felt with circular motions right against that spot that your fingers could never reach.

"Lighter..." Your voice is so much more airy than you thought it would be, "I'm-"

He hums, understanding you without you needing to say anything at all. He removes himself from your thigh, climbing over to press his forehead against yours without stopping his movements. He wanted to see the face you made when you cum clearly. Wanted to have it etched into every corner of his brain so he could never dream of forgetting it.

"Go on then, I've got you," He encourages, and that's all it takes for the tight ball in your stomach to burst, and the flood of pleasure to take its place. You spasm around his fingers, juices coating them and dripping down his wrist. It's a beautiful thing to Lighter, watching the way your face scrunches up and then melts into pure pleasure. That was a face he could never forget, not in a million lifetimes.

He keeps his fingers moving at a slow and steady pace, easing you back down from your high. Only pull them out when you stop clenching around them, sucking your essence clean from them with a groan of satisfaction. "Delicious," He whispers, easing you back into the sheets, limbs soft and limp with the pleasant aftershocks of your orgasm.

Lighter is still there above you, watching with all the admiration in the world as your gaze refocuses on him. It's an infectious look that you subconsciously mirror, cradling his face in the palm of your hand.

"Feel good?" He asks, playing with a loose strand of your hair.

You nod, pressing a kiss to his nose, "Wonderful, actually. I don't know what I was so scared of."

He chuckles deep and warmly from the back of his throat, "I'm glad."

He presses gentle kisses across your cheek, nosing along your jaw and following with soft presses into the sensitive skin. You scratch his scalp appreciatively, more than happy to accept the affections.

"You wanna call it there?" He murmurs against your throat, hot breath leaving goosebumps in its wake, "Don't wanna push you too far."

You shake your head, frowning down at him, "No, no. I wanna keep going. It's not fair of me to leave you like... that." You gesture to his still rock-hard dick pressed against your thigh.

He comes back up to look at you, caressing your face with utmost care, "Don't worry about me, I can live without getting off."

"I know," you giggle, and it's such a sweet sound to him, "I want to, Lighter. I want you. Please indulge me just a little longer?"

He really can't argue with that, not with how you're smiling at him. "Alright," He sits up, grabs the condoms, and rips the box open with practiced ease, "but it's not gonna feel good to start."

"I know," You answer, sitting up to watch him slide his boxers down. His cock springs out, tip an angry red and bleeding precum down the shaft. It was an incredibly hot sight to see him slide the condom over himself, his muscles flexing from the much-needed attention. "I definitely know."

He smirks, settling between your legs again as he picks up the lube this time. "Enjoying the view?"

"Too much," you respond, enraptured as he tugs along his member a few times, shuddering at the sensation.

He takes the time to adjust you beneath him, tugging your hips up in an angled position. The manhandling is surprisingly hot, and your heart skips a beat when he grabs at your thigh more roughly than you're used to.

"I hope I can keep you satisfied," he muses, lining himself up with your pussy.

He runs the tip against your clit a few times, spreading a mixture of lube and your cum around, hissing to himself at the feeling. He wasn't even inside and he was already needing more of you, god what did you do to him?

He presses the tip against your weeping hole, hot and desperate against him. It fluttered in anticipation, feeling far too empty knowing what his fingers felt like. It had you praying to know what his cock felt like fully pressed inside. Surely it would fill you up even better.

His emerald green eyes come down to stare into yours, an intensity you've only ever seen from him in fights burning behind them. "Ready?"

You take a deep breath and then nod as assuredly as you can. You had no idea what you were getting into, but as the tip slowly sunk into you, you felt lightheaded. The sting was deep, drawing a hiss of pain out of you, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. He wasn't lying when he said it would hurt, but this was way worse than you expected.

He leans down, locking his fingers with yours and pressing loving kisses along your cheeks. His hair tickles your skin and it does wonders in distracting you from the burn of his stretching you. That was just the tip. If you couldn't handle that, how could you take the rest of him?

Lighter doesn't let you worry about it, rubbing his thumbs into your hips. Muttering sweet nothings into your sweaty skin, worshipping you like a god. Like you were his whole world. In his pleasure-fueled haze, that was more truth than it was fiction.

For every stinging inch, Lighter muttered praises and peppered a thousand more kisses across your burning skin. This was the most full you'd ever felt, and the more he pushed inside the more you wanted. He stuffed himself in to the hilt, stopping fully when his hips were pressed flush against yours. You shuddered at the sensation of his tip kissing your cervix. When he said he was big he meant it, and it was everything you wanted and more.

His rough hands slide gently along your sides, coaxing you to just look at him. Your glazed eyes slide over to his face, and you smile dumbly at his expression. His face is red, brows furrowed in concentrated effort and eyes clouded in lust. "You okay? Still hurt?"

You shake your head, chest rising and falling with more effort than you were used to. "It feels good. I like it."

He swallows hard, adam's apple bobbing in his throat. Fuck, he just can't stand it. You were so tight and warm, sucking him in like he was your last meal. He could feel your pussy clench around him suddenly, and he had to bury his face into your neck to stop himself from moaning out loud.

Who could've imagined a few years without sex would make him so weak. Maybe it was actually just you that made him like this. He couldn't possibly imagine any pussy better than yours, it felt like it was molded perfectly just for him. The thought occurs to him, like a stroke of genius, that this was his pussy and it was molded to him. Now that you let him fuck you once, he could do it again and again and again whenever either of you liked.

He liked that idea a lot more than he probably should, his cock twitching a little at the prospect. You squeeze back and he does moan this time, deep and throaty into your neck. It's quite the sound from such a big guy, making your skin tingle excitedly. You had been the reason for it, after all, it was flattering.

"Lighter?" You say, startling him. He looks up at you from his spot against your shoulder, "Can you move? I'm too full with you just sitting there."

He blinks at you, taking in your words carefully and digesting them. Yeah, you were gonna kill him tonight. You had no fucking clue what you were doing to him.

"Whatever you want," He mumbles out, pressing a wet kiss to your cheek, before slowly pulling out.

You groan out in tandem, the drag of his cock and a squeeze of your walls more pleasurable than you'd imagined. Then he pushes back in at the same pace and you shudder in his arms. He keeps the pace slow and easy, still able to remember that he wanted to be gentle despite how much he wished to be anything but. First time, he echoed in his head, take it easy Lighter.

Each drag of his cock against your plush warm insides has you gasping out, desperate for more and more. He watches you with an intensity to rival his excitement during a fight, taking in each detail with careful consideration. The way your brows scrunch up when he brushes that gummy spot with his tip, and how your teeth tug on your lips, and the way your eyelashes flutter when his hips lay flush into yours.

Lighter never considered himself an artist, but damn if you weren't his greatest masterpiece like this. You open your eyes and finally look at him, and the intensity in his gaze has you shying away into your palms. He can't have that, he wanted to look, so he grabbed your wrists and set them on his shoulders. They curl into the skin, crescent-shaped marks sure to form in the morning.

You still try to evade his gaze, so he follows with his own face, leaning forward. "Don't hide," he coos, his hands moving your hips with his upper body so he's fully leaning over you now, the new position allowing him to not only look at you but hit much deeper than before. "Lemme see yer pretty face."

A wanton moan is ripped from your throat as he picks up his pace, and you finally look at him when he grabs at your chin. His hair is stuck to his sweaty forehead, breathing heavily as he keeps up the new speed he's set. The wild look in his eyes is enough to make you clench and get to watch in real-time the effect it has on him. Swallowing hard as his eyebrows come together in pleasured surprise.

You were making it so, so hard on him, really you were. Each reaction you had made it so much more difficult to keep himself together. When you clench around him again he lets out a sound between a sigh and a squeak. Your fingers are running along the nape of his neck and through his hair, and it's nearly got him choking on air.

You're no better, hardly even coherent as his hips continue pistoning in and out of you at such consistent pacing. The wet slapping of skin on skin is the only thing you can focus on, everything else is too much for your muddled brain to understand.

The hand that isn't keeping your eyes on him comes down to massage your clit again, fingers splayed across your abdomen to feel himself through your skin while his thumb takes care of you. He was close, and he could tell you were too. Your moans getting more and more desperate, and the squeezing you gave him more and more desperate to keep him moving.

He didn't have it in himself to say anything coherent, so instead he settled on kissing you. Sloppy and uncoordinated and more teeth than anything else, but he still kissed you. Swallowing up every moan like a man starved.

His pace grows sloppy as he chases your highs, both of you moaning unabashedly loudly. He would hear from Lucy in the morning, he was sure of it, but that didn't matter too much to him now. Not when he felt you come undone around him. Your whole body tensed, desperate little cunt squeezing him in a vice grip and moans so delicious that he couldn't help but follow your lead.

He gives one last harsh thrust, and then he unloads into the condom. He thinks for a moment that he wishes it wasn't there but focuses instead on sucking at the juncture of your neck. You writhe under him, fingers raking down his back harsh enough to leave red lines in his skin.

It was better than he had expected it to feel, that was for certain. Even as he calmed down and came back to reality, there were little sparks of pleasure ringing through his body. He kissed his way over the marks he'd left on your body, waiting patiently for you to calm down before he pulled out.

Both of you let out sounds of complaint at the loss, but he knew that he couldn't stay inside you forever (no matter how nice that sounded). He smiled warmly down at you, caressing your face with such gentleness it could make you cry. "You alright...?"

You nod, brushing the hair out of his face so you can look at him properly, "This is probably the best I've ever felt in my whole life."

That gets him to laugh, pressing his forehead against yours, "I'm glad I could be of service."

"Did you-" You start, but he doesn't let you finish before he responds.

"Yes. I did enjoy myself, very much, baby." He hums, washing away any insecurities you could've had with ease.

He eases you up into a sitting position with him, holding you there until he is sure you will stay like that by yourself. Then, he stands and digs around his dresser for a towel to wipe you down with. You take the time to admire how nice his ass is out of those skinny jeans, humming to yourself at the sight.

When he rejoins you on the bed, you smirk at him, "Your ass is nice."

"Yeah," he huffs out a laugh, "Yours ain't all that bad either."

You let him do what he needs to, wiping you of sweat and any fluids that might become uncomfortable after a while. Then he does the same for himself, and the show is rather nice. When he finishes cleaning the both of you up, he crawls into bed and pulls you to his chest.

You take your chance to trace over the scars again, admiring just how pretty his marred skin is. He doesn't say a word, and you have the understanding not to make verbal comments now. The warmth of his chest combined with the pleasant ache in your limbs was enough to lull you to sleep.

The last thing you hear is Lighter mumble a quiet, "I love you." Though you don't respond, you know he knows you feel the same way.

[vertighostt]

tags

not quite like other ceruledge / ic.

 to indulge in a moment of play / prompts.

the best answers are simple sometimes / ask replies

it’s a question of how to play / prompt replies.

the writer’s games / ooc prompts.

the writer’s response to games / ooc prompt replies.

not completely one way or the other / headcanons.

played upon the dash / dash games.

their tea is not all that bad / promos.

traveling through the region / queue.

captured through a quick snap / portrait.

non-computer posts & replies / mobile.

out of revitalizing tea / ooc.

read in the latest news edition / news.

the writer’s answers / ooc ask replies.

he’s created something special / selfpromo.

to be continued…

[thydungeongal]

I saw your post on DnD having no consequences besides death and was wondering what systems you know that aren't like that,and how they accomplish it.

Really love your stuff btw!

First one that comes to mind is Fate. The way Fate achieves it is simple: instead of having death as a consequence, in Fate if your character gets taken out of combat (which will happen if they take Stress and they have no more Stress boxes to take that Stress and you don't elect to take a consequence instead) they're simply Taken Out. There's no countdown to death, the character is simply out of the conflict. And should the whole party get wiped in a conflict that simply means that they failed to achieve whatever it was they wanted to achieve in that conflict. This means that players can lose individual conflicts but the story doesn't end there. In fact, the game in some ways encourages losing in conflicts, because it can be a source of character development (via Extreme consequences which can only be taken once every now and then and that actually change one of the character's Aspects, basic building blocks of the character). Fate also allows, as far as I remember, simply conceding a conflict, meaning that characters lose the conflict but at least they get out mostly without consequence.

Blades in the Dark is another one: BitD is about doing heists and during heists characters can suffer a wide variety of consequences, including various degrees of injury. The important thing is that BitD allows players to declare that their characters are withdrawing from a heist whenever they want. This means that they get no payoff and go straight into downtime, and still have to deal with the various consequences like heat and entanglements. So, players basically always have the choice to retreat. (And in fact this is something that is very similar to older editions of D&D: before cyclical, individual initiative became the norm, characters would take turns together, and between rounds of combat players could decide that their characters would retreat. It wasn't of course automatic and there was a chance of pursuit, but there was a quick escape button available to players.)

QuestWorlds is another one that allows for players to define what their characters' goal in a given conflict (called Sequence) is, and allows for either retreating (and thus failing to achieve the story goal) as well as simply losing and failing to achieve the story goal with added consequence. QuestWorlds is very similar to Fate in how abstract it is in modeling conflict. QuestWorlds also models difficulty rising with every success since it seeks to model a certain type of narrative structure. It's a fascinating game imo

That's just a few though, and there are countless others as well.

[tabletopresources]

Image credit "Fishing" By yonaz

So in last night's 3.5 edition D&D game, my players had a chance to do some ice fishing and one player called out for one of my ad hoc mini-games (I do this a lot haha). I wanted something simple, a combo of character skill and some luck, and so in short order ended up with this very quick mini-game you can easily employ.

:

Quick Disclaimer: These fishing mini-game mechanics may not be entirely original and could resemble systems from other games I just can't recall. For my part, I'm posting this FOR sharing. Feel free to use, adapt, or modify them in your own games as you see fit. No ownership or exclusivity is claimed over this idea—enjoy and share as you wish!

:

Fishing Mini-Game (D&D 3.5 Edition)

Step 1: Build the Fishing Pool

The player rolls a number of d6 equal to their relevant skill modifier (Survival or Profession (Fisher)).

Example: A character with a +10 in Survival rolls 10d6 and sets these dice aside as their "Fishing Pool".

Fishing Pool Example Roll: 1, 1, 2, 3, 3, 4, 4, 5, 5, 6.

Step 2: Perform the Fishing Check

The player then rolls 5d6 as their "Fishing Check" for one hour of fishing.

Example Roll: 1, 2, 4, 4, 6.

Step 3: Match for Combos

The player now attempts to match the dice results from their Fishing Pool with their Fishing Check results to form combos. The number of dice used in the combo determines the size of the fish:

Small Fish: Match 2 dice from the Fishing Pool with the Fishing Check.

Medium Fish: Match 3 dice from the Fishing Pool with the Fishing Check.

Large Fish: Match 5 dice from the Fishing Pool with the Fishing Check.

Example Combo:

If the player's Fishing Pool has dice showing 1, 2, 4, 4, and 6, they could match all 5 dice with their Fishing Check, catching a Large Fish.

Step 4: Fish Weight and Rations

Once the fish is caught, the total weight of the edible parts of the fish is determined by summing the values of the dice used in the combo.

Example: For a Large Fish (1, 2, 4, 4, 6), the total weight is 1+2+4+4+6 = 17 kg.

To calculate the number of rations provided by the fish:

1 kg = 2,000 calories (or half a ration).

Rations Formula: Divide the total weight of the fish by 2.

Example: 17 kg / 2 = 8.5 kg or 8 rations (we round down).

Step 5: Continue or Stop

After catching a fish, remove the dice used from the Fishing Pool.

If the player still has at least 2 dice left in their Fishing Pool, they can attempt to catch another fish using the same Fishing Check results. Otherwise, they are done for that hour.

That's all that we did and they loved it!

But since then we've considered how future games or others might expand on it with special roll combos, items, locations, setting conditions, Aid Other, etc. So here are some...

Optional Add-Ons and Considerations

Multiple Attempts Per Hour:

If the player rolls exceptionally well on their Fishing Pool, they may be able to attempt fishing multiple times in an hour. To keep this simple, I'd say if they are able to clear the first Pool entirely, they get a brand new roll, a whole new Pool as if starting fishing over, but they keep their previous catches.

Modifiers and Conditions:

You could introduce conditions that affect the Fishing Pool or Fishing Check rolls:

Good Fishing Spot: +1d6 to the Fishing Pool.

Bad Weather/Overfished Area: -1d6 (or more) to the Fishing Pool or disadvantage (see 5e, we use this idea quite a bit even in our 3.5e games) on Fishing Check rolls.

Magic/Luck Items: Grant rerolls or bonus dice to the Fishing Pool or allow rerolls of the Fishing Check.

Special Fish Combos:

Occasionally, you could allow rare or magical fish (or larger species) that provide bonuses or other effects; perhaps these are possible if the combos use specific die results:

Giant Fish: Requires a match of dice with identical values, but double the weight result (ex: a medium fish that used 5,5,5 would be a Giant of its type, and grant 15x2 or 30 kg of edible parts!).

Magical Fish: Grants temporary bonuses, like extra HP or special buffs, when consumed. (ex. A combo of sequential rising values, like 1,2,3,4,5, would grant a Magical Large fish)

Fishing Tools and Bait:

Fishing equipment or bait could modify the rolls:

Better Rods/Lines: Allow rerolls or add extra dice to the Fishing Pool.

Special Bait/Lures: Increases chances of catching better or more fish (ex. set any one die result to 6; or allow player to select the value of any one die, etc.).

Aid Other

Another player can choose to assist Player A if they are proficient in the same associated skill (Survival or Profession (Fisher), etc based on your setting):

Player B (helper) rolls for the associated skill.

If the result of their skill check (rolled like any other skill check) is 10-19, Player A gains 1 extra die in their fishing Pool.

If the result of their skill check is 20 or higher, Player A gains 2 extra dice in their fishing Pool.

Player A can then use these extra dice to help form better combos when matching against their Fishing Check.

Let me know if you use this mini-game in your D&D sessions, or revamp it for the tabletop rpg/edition you play!

I'd love to hear your stories of the biggest catch, or lamenting that one LEGENDARY CATCH that got away!

And check out Tabletop Gaming Resources for more art, tips, and tools for your game!

[suugarbabe]

Origin Stories

(part 3)

summary: baby first year matty arrives at hogwarts and the first person he interacts with seems to not know him at all. matty is unsure how to feel when someone treats him like just another person instead of the dark lords son

warnings: fluff, angst, hurt but comfort after, slight magical child abuse, sad baby matty ; ; ; she's a long one folks

an: forever thankful for @musingsofahufflepuff and all the wondrous thoughts he puts into this, the editing he helps with, just everything <3; you're all welcome, yes there is another part, there will always be more

Magical wounds don’t always heal quickly. They also don’t always heal without scars. Mattheo learned that if a diffindo charm is cast with enough hatred and precision a simple episkey charm won’t do the trick.

That or his first year wand work just isn’t as practiced. His mother forbade his elf, Feindre, from healing it for him, and Salazar knows she wasn’t going to do it. 

Which left little newly twelve year old Mattheo standing in his bathroom staring in the mirror. It wasn’t even bleeding; the dark magic that his mother emits singed the edges of the cut as she made it. 

He really did try to heal it the best he could, but it seemed like he was going to always have a prominent scar running through his right eyebrow. 

His first thought after it all happened was how disappointed you’d be. That was his internal rationale as to why he was going to avoid you when he finally made it back to the castle. 

He couldn’t fathom his nightmares coming true. For you to tell him that you hated him. That he was a monster for what he did. That he deserved what his mother had done. 

He didn’t tell anyone where he was going, intending on just wallowing in self-pity. So when you found him hidden behind the wicker baskets near your common room entrance he was surprised. 

The sniffling alerted you. You were able to hear it as you neared the bottom of the spiral staircase. At first you thought maybe a fellow first year had forgotten the password, looking ahead of you to try and find someone from your dorm. 

But two steps past the stone tree base of the stairs and you heard sniffling again, this time from the nook that held the baskets. 

If he hadn’t made any noise, no one would be any the wiser that there was a Slytherin first year crouched behind the tall baskets in the stair nook. A crying one at that. 

“Matty?” Your voice startled him, quick hands swiping away his tears and fluffing his hair. “Matty, is that you back here?” Your head poked around the basket just in time to see him straightening out his robes. 

He turned his back to you. Part of him was hoping you’d just leave him there to rot in his miserable pit of shame and sadness. Part of him was glad you were there. 

“I know you can hear me, Mattheo.” The use of his full name made him flinch and he turned around to face you. While his back was turned you had joined him on the floor, legs criss-crossed and hands resting in-between. 

He kept his head down, curls covering his forehead, “Are you here to yell at me?” 

“Why would I-” your sentence was interrupted as he raised his head, fresh scar on full display. 

“I’m assuming Theo or Enzo told you, so you found me to tell me off and tell me what a shit friend I am. But don’t worry…I’ve been telling myself all of it already.” His voice wobbled at the end of his sentence, tears welling in his eyes. 

You didn’t understand what was happening, “Matty, talk to me, what- why would I be mad at you?” 

He sniffled again as he wiped at his eyes with the heel of his hand, “I b-broke your promise.” 

You inched closer to him, just slightly. You didn’t want him to run off; he was apparently good at finding places to hide. “Matty, what promise are you talking about?” 

He couldn’t look you in the eyes as he said it, “I couldn’t let it go, I…he just..Draco is a fucking prat and he deserves what I did.” You nodded, face unchanging, “What did you do, Matty.” 

He took a shuddered breath, willing himself not to cry while he explained himself, “He just looked so smug at the party - his family’s christmas party they throw every year - and I just couldn’t stand it

“Not with me knowing what he said to you, how he made you feel. It wasn’t right that he was laughing with his brainless friends that follow him around. I just kept seeing you crying in the back of my mind.” 

There was a rush of heat to your cheeks, something about knowing Matty was still dwelling on how awful you felt was stirring something inside you but you couldn’t tell exactly what. 

“I guess he must’ve told a joke or something,” Mattheo continued, staring at a point on the ground like it was replaying live in his brain as he told you, “Crabbe was cracking up and Draco just had that smirk on his face and I knew it was likely the same when he was being awful to you.

“So I had to do something, I couldn’t stop myself. I pushed through the crowd and I went right up to him and I just…lost it. I punched him in the gut first. Then he tried to take out his wand from his pocket and I just grabbed it from him and threw it into the crowd of adults around us.

“I just kept hitting him, and hitting him and I couldn’t stop. When he started crying I just thought good, he deserves this. I wanted him to physically feel the pain he had emotionally caused you.”

He felt the tears start to fall, but he couldn’t find it in him to care anymore. If you were going to stop being friends with him, he wanted you to know everything, to know he got rightfully punished already so that hopefully when you told him off you weren’t as harsh. 

“My mother stopped me. Well she…hit me with a stupify jinx and I guess she apparrated us back to our manor because she hit me with something else to wake me up so she could berate me.” 

He spared you to the details of his mother’s words. ‘You horrifically idiot child, do you know how embarrassing that was for me? For your father? Over a Mudblood, Mattheo. Mudblood we aim to rid our world of, we do not defend them.

“Is your mother the one who…” you trailed off, but he knew you were staring at it. “She was teaching me a lesson,” was all he could respond with. 

He saw you shake your head in his peripheral, “No. Absolutely not, no Matty that is not a lesson that’s abuse. C’mon. C’mon let’s go right now, we’re going to Madam Pomfry, I’m taking you to the infirmary so she can fully heal it.” 

You stood up then. He didn’t move, “No, I can’t do that.” You held your hand out for him, “Just, let’s go Matty she can heal it up really well I’ve seen her do it on one of my dorm mates before.” 

Mattheo just shook his head, “You don’t understand…she’ll just do it again. She wanted it like this, made me heal it myself and everything it’s…it’s a reminder.” He heard you scoff from above him. 

“What could that possibly be a reminder of? That she hates you?” Your mind was filled with so much purity, Mattheo almost didn’t want to tell you. He didn’t want to ruin how you saw the wizarding world, the excitement and joy you had on the train. 

But he also couldn’t lie to you, so he did his best to say the tamest version of what it really was, “It’s her reminder that she could if she wanted to.” Your sweet soul just couldn’t comprehend, “That she could what?” 

“Anything.”

You stood in a silence for a moment. To Mattheo it felt like forever. Like you were deciding all of it was too much. That he was too much. When you started speaking he couldn’t help his reflexive tensing, waiting for the rejection he figured was coming.

“Will you let me give you your Christmas present then? It might cheer you up?” 

Between the crying and standing up quickly Mattheo went slightly light headed for a moment, “Y-you got me a gift?” You gnawed on your lip slightly, “Well, erm, I didn’t actually buy you something but I…made you something.” 

You were staring at your hands, fingers fiddling with one another. Mattheo grabbed your hand suddenly, ignoring the rapid rhythm of his heart getting stronger and louder at the contact as he started dragging you down the hall. 

You glanced quickly at the pile of barrels that was your house entrance as Mattheo stopped in front of a portrait on the wall about ten feet down. “Erm, Matty. Why are we standing here,” you mock whispered, mirroring his position and looking at the portrait. 

“I’m waiting for you to say your password,” he turned to look at you, face scrunched in slight confusion. A grin broke on your face, “This is not my house entrance, goofy.” 

You begin to walk away from him, Matty following closely like a new puppy as you stop in front of the pile of barrels. You take a step closer to the barrel two from the bottom, knocking in time with the name ‘Helga Hufflepuff’. 

The front of the barrel begins to roll upwards into itself and you start to walk forward, Mattheo immediately behind you. “Your password is just knocking?” You nod, “Mhm! And it’s never changed and we were told it never will change. So you can’t tell anyone.” 

Mattheo nodded, “I won’t.” You turned to him then, “Do you pinky?” Mattheo couldn’t stop the instinctual tilt in his head, “Do I what?” You held a fist out towards him, your small pinky finger the only thing outstretched, “Do you pinky swear?”

His quickly mimics your hand position, confusion further settling in his brain as you hook your pinky finger on to his. You jut out your thumb, bringing it to your lips and kissing it quickly. 

Again, Mattheo does the same, not understanding what’s going on. “Okay, now seal it,” you lean your fist against his, your thumb reaching over. He touches his thumb to yours and his face and neck begin to feel hot.

His heart is beating quickly and he sort of feels light headed again, but you’re smiling, so he’s smiling and then you’re opening the door to your room. 

Enzo was the first to notice it, pointing it out loudly from across the dorm. “Whatcha carryin’, Matt?” Mattheo set the gift bag, your gift bag, down on his bed before shrugging off his robes. 

He was digging in his trunk, top half nearly fully inside while looking for lounge clothes when he heard the crinkle of tissue paper. By time he was able to get back to his bed Theo had revealed one of your gifts. 

“S’that a little dragon?” Enzo walked over enthusiastically to the opposite side of the bed Mattheo was on. Theo was currently holding the crocheted Antipodean Opaleye high in the air. 

Theo’s slightly longer limbs gave him the advantage he was hoping for as Mattheo reached for it, “Give it back, it’s not yours. It was made for me, not you!” 

Enzo climbed up on the bed next to Mattheo’s, giving himself a few good jumps before launching himself over and on top of Theo. “Oof– Enzo what the fuck,” Berkshire had snagged the handmade stuffie and was now settled against Mattheo’s pillows inspecting it.

He turned it this way and that, looking from its long neck to its wings and down to the tail before Matty grabbed it back from him. “Cut it out you gits, you’re gonna break him.” 

“What’s that string on your wrist?” Theo reaches to grab Mattheo’s forearm but he pulls it quickly into his chest. He grabs hold of his wrist, shielding it from view. 

The incessant whine of Draco’s voice wafts from his curtains, “Two handmade gifts? Your little badger friend poor or something? No surprise for a mud-” 

The rage in Mattheo grew nearly as high as the night he tried to beat Draco with his bare hands. Thankfully you had done more than just crochet and stuff the dragon; Mattheo held the Opaleye towards Draco’s bed, pulling strongly on its tail. 

A stream of flames emitted from the stuffed dragon’s mouth, immediately igniting the middle of the drapes on Draco’s four poster. 

“Wicked…clever little badger charmed it?!” Theo sounded highly impressed and Mattheo gleamed with pride. With Draco now distracted with his flaming curtains, Mattheo turned to his friends.

Enzo couldn’t contain his laughter at the sight, hands clutching his belly as he rolled to his side. Theo had his palm outstretched, giving Matty a ‘give it here’ motion with his fingers while holding a finger to his lips. 

Mattheo passed the dragon over just as Draco managed to put the first fire out. Theo then gave the Opaleye’s tail another tug, another stream of fire reaching Draco’s bed. The blonde boy let out a high pitched squeal of terror, attempting to throw a stinging jinx towards the other boys.

An impressive protego charm was thrown up by Matty as they all ran out of the room and towards the common room in a fit of giggles. As they all settled near a fireplace in separate chairs, catching their breath, Theo was the first to break the silence, “Where’d you learn that protection charm, amico? Isn’t that a sixth year charm?” 

“You know who his parents are-ow!” Theo wacked Enzo in the back of the head, “Futtuto idiota!” He turned back to Mattheo, “Sorry ‘bout him.” 

Mattheo just shook his head, gnawing lightly on his bottom lip, “S’okay, he’s right. Feindre-erm, my house elf taught it to me.” His face warmed slightly at the admittance. 

Enzo, trying to gracefully recover from his earlier statement, smiled far too widely, “Well that was - erm, nice of him?” Theo groaned, shaking his head and pinching the bridge of his nose before changing the subject, “You gonna show us what’s on your wrist now?” 

Mattheo shyly held his hand out in front of him. Both Theo and Enzo leaned forward, trying to get a closer look at the twisted and knotted pattern of greens, black and white on his wrist. Matty’s heart beat a little faster, something akin to protectiveness over your handiwork coming over him. 

“Badger made that by hand you said? No magic at all?” Enzo was now sitting on his knees in front of Mattheo, peering closer at the bracelet on his wrist. “Merlin, Enzo, back up. Where’s your boundaries, mate,” Theo pulled Enzo back by his collar causing the boy to fall backwards. 

“They said it was a friendship bracelet,” Mattheo said the phrase with some pride in his tone. Theo huffed, crossing his arms over his chest, “Where’s our friendship bracelets?” Mattheo shrugged, “Dunno, maybe you guys aren’t really friends.” 

“Oi! We’re friends!” Enzo defended, “We stand next to each other in Herbology, we were partners just last week!” Mattheo laid across the sofa, putting his hands behind his head, “Partners do not equate friends, Enzo.” 

Matty smirked to himself when he heard Enzo begin to grumble. “Well we’ll just find out at breakfast tomorrow won’t we.” 

You didn’t show up for breakfast. Mattheo’s mind went in a bit of a spiral because of it. He ran through everything that happened the previous evening, all of your interactions together. 

Was he not enthusiastic enough about his gifts? It wasn’t that he was not excited, he just never received such a thoughtful gift before. 

He never received any gifts before. 

He didn’t eat at all. The thought of you being upset with him made him feel physically ill and the idea of eating sausage and eggs made him want to vomit. 

He had been pulling at his curls during his walk to charms, gnawing on his bottom lip harshly. He was just about ready to explode from the weird rush of heat that seemed to be encompassing him the more he thought about you when he finally heard your voice. 

“Matty!” You were waving your hand high as you walked through the doorway. Without giving it thought Mattheo did the same, raising his arm high as he waved, his new friendship bracelet now on full display. 

Your grin was so large Mattheo was sure your face was about to split right in half, “You wore it! I’m so glad, I was afraid you’d find it a little bit cheesy.” 

Mattheo followed your gaze to his arms now crossed on the table, bracelet still peaking from his robes. The bridge of his nose and tips of his ears suddenly became very warm as he pulled his sleeve to cover it fully. 

“Erm, yeah. I’ve never gotten a present-Ehm, a present like that before. How did you make it without any magic?”

You turned in your seat to face him, hands animated as you spoke, “Last summer I visited my cousin in America and we went to this thing called a summer camp and we learned how to do all sorts of cool stuff, bracelets were one of them.” 

Mattheo had a bad habit of staring and not responding. He supposed it was likely something he developed to cause less negative reactions from his mother. 

However you were now running your hand through your hair, cheeks seemingly warming and waiting for a response. “What’s, erm, what’s a summer camp?” Mattheo finally found his voice but he wanted to smack himself. 

You sound so stupid, everyone probably knows what those are. He clenched his fist tightly, then relaxed them; a skill Feindre taught him a few years ago. 

Your eyes seem to brighten once more, launching into a long explanation about the experience and all the activities you got to do and what they meant. 

It all sounded like Gobbledegook to him, but seeing how happy it made you to get the opportunity to explain something that excited you was satisfying enough for him.  

Charms was the only class he had with you Monday mornings. Thus, once Fitwick dismissed everyone he was stuck to survive without you until lunch. Mattheo, therefore, felt numb for the next two classes.

Theo was about to ask Mattheo if he needed to go to the infirmary on their way to lunch as it looked like he’d been walking around brain dead for the last two lessons. That is until he noticed you at the lunch table, next to Enzo. Sitting right next to Enzo. 

Theo also noticed this, grabbing Mattheo by the elbow and dragging him to the other side for the both of them to sit across from you. Mattheo contemplated if it would be too dramatic of him to climb over the table and sit on your free side. 

“So what’d we miss?” Theo started piling food on his plate, a passing glance at you and Enzo the only indication of where he was directing the question. 

You rolled your eyes as Enzo responded, “I was just asking our little badger here why Matt got a friendship bracelet but we didn’t.” 

They’re my badger not our badger you twit, Mattheo squeezed his eyes shut trying to shake the negative thought from his brain. 

Theo hummed, biting into one of the several pasties he now had on his plate, “Hey, that’s right! Why didn’t we get one?” 

You shrugged your shoulders, “Matty was my first friend.” Mattheo’s chest swelled, the smallest hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. Enzo scoffed, “We were your second and third friends! We deserve bracelets too! What, do you hate us all of a sudde-ow, ow, oi what the?!” 

Enzo’s hand covered his forehead where you had just landed a particularly hard flick with your finger, “Lorenzo don’t be selfish.” The boy next to you slumped his shoulders slightly, a soft and grumbled ‘sorry’ leaving his lips. 

Theo took another bite of pasty, “M’kay so when we’re all as close as you and Matty do we get two gifts, too?” 

“Well one was for Christmas and one was for his birthday.” You said it so casually, like it made perfect sense. Mattheo, however, was looking at you with wide awestruck eyes before quickly looking down at his plate. 

The other two boys looked slightly guilty. ”Mate,” Enzo looked toward the older boy, “your birthday was over holiday? We missed it?” 

Mattheo just shrugged, “You both were around. It was the same day as Malfoy’s little soirée.” Theo and Enzo looked at each other before Theo turned to Mattheo, “You mean the same day your mum-”

“Yeah, the same,” Mattheo pulled on the curls by his forehead trying to hide the still healing scar by his eyebrow. Noticing his uncomfortableness, you tried to change the subject. 

“Did he show you guys his dragon’s special skill?” 

Mattheo was thankful for the distraction. The other boys taking pride in the slight torture they all instilled on Draco. You tried to reprimand them slightly but Mattheo saw the edges of your lips curling upwards. 

Enzo, as always, was being enthusiastic in his storytelling. Hands flailing and body moving to illustrate what his words were describing. As he described getting the little dragon from Theo, he mimed launching himself off the bed and then wrapped his arms around you to simulate what he did to Theo and Mattheo suddenly felt horrible. 

A weird twisting started appearing slowly in his stomach and spreading throughout his body. It only became more intense as you laughed, pushing Enzo off you. A low heat began emanating off Matty as Enzo continued to bump or nudge you throughout his storytelling. 

Mattheo gripped his fork harshly, the prongs scraping against the table as a means of distraction (and not hex Berkshire at the lunch table). Someone must have asked him a question because Theo nudged him with his elbow, nodding his head towards you. 

“Are you okay, Matty?” Your eyebrows were knit slightly together, eyes darting from his to his fork making four deep marks in the wood of the table. Mattheo dropped his fork to the table, “Oh, yeah, I’m sorry. Did you ask me something?” 

A small smile appeared on your features, “I just asked what you were thinking about.” Mattheo wracked his brain for a viable excuse. He wasn’t sure how you would feel about him plotting Enzo’s demise due to his proximity to you. 

“Ehm, I was, erm, just thinking about what to get you for, erm your birthday? W-when is it again?” 

Through a mouthful of sausage Enzo answers for you, “ ‘ts in March.” That twisting feeling started brewing again, thankfully Theo asked what Mattheo was wondering. “How do you know when their birthday is?”

Enzo sat a little straighter, “Because we’re friends.” Then very unceremoniously, he stuck his tongue out at Matty. 

“I’ll cut that tongue out, Enzo,” Matty threatened and the boy immediately sucked his tongue back into his mouth. You playfully scolded the curly haired boy, “Oh hush, Matty you will not. And yes, Enzo we’re friends, Theo you are also my friend but Mattheo is my best friend.” 

Mattheo felt like his heart was swelling, the smile exploding on his face was out of his control and his legs started bouncing slightly. Then he turned back to Enzo, sticking his tongue out at him. 

“I’ll cut that tongue out, Matty,” Enzo mocked his friend's earlier words. You rolled your eyes, Theo apparently doing the same. “Are they always like this?” 

Theo leaned his head on his fist, elbow supported on the table as his eyes darted back and forth at the two other boys flinging insults at each other, “Honestly this is new, but I don’t think it’s going away anytime soon.” 

Now that he had learned when your birthday was, Mattheo was determined to get you a gift. He had two months to plan, and he was really wracking his brain about what would be good enough after all you’ve done for him. 

He did his best to listen intently (as if he listened any other way around you) for any idea of what to get you. Mattheo knew he was rich, all of his friends were. He could buy you anything you wanted. He wanted to buy you anything you wanted. 

But everything you talked about loving or wanting wasn’t material whatsoever. 

A month and a half later Matty was slumped in a lounge chair in his common room. He was looking especially moody, which made Theo a little hesitant to even ask, but he considered Mattheo a good friend now. 

“You wanna tell me what’s wrong, Matt?” Theo lounged sideways over the chair next to Mattheo’s, his continuously growing limbs hanging over each side. Mattheo stayed brooding, “Why do you care.” 

Theo shrugged, “We’re mates, I care about you. I don’t wanna see you all sad and mopey all the time.” Mattheo felt a slight pang in his chest, looking over at Theo and his shy grin. 

Mattheo sat up straighter, “I don’t know what to get y/n for their birthday and it’s only like two weeks away now.”  Theo nodded, “Have they mentioned anything they want?” 

A scowl crossed over Matty’s face, “Don’t you think I’ve been listening for that all this time?” Theo threw his hands up in defense, Mattheo sighed, “Sorry, I’m sorry Theo it’s just. Ugh, they’re so great, you know? They made me gifts. How can anything I buy top a handmade gift?” 

Mattheo sunk into the chair again with a groan. Theo pulled at his bottom lip as he thought to himself, then shaking his head as if to disregard whatever he was thinking. “You know they still haven’t made us bracelets? Enzo was complaining earlier saying he was just going to make them himself but he can’t figure out how they did it.” 

Mattheo’s eyes widened, and then a wonderful idea occurred to him, “I don’t say this often, Nott…but you’re a bloody genius. I gotta go.” And with that he sprinted from the common room. 

Mattheo slowed as he reached the library. He really hoped she was in there. He didn’t particularly have a problem with her, per say. But he knew she had a problem with him and all of his friends. Maybe his cousin in particular. 

As typical, he spotted Hermione Granger alone at one of the library tables, parchment and textbooks spread all about, quill moving vigorously. 

He stood in front of her table for a moment before he realized he’d have to actually say something for her to get out of whatever study trance she was in. Matty cleared his throat, “Em, hello.” 

Her quill stopped abruptly, eyes slowly lifting until she realized who was in front of her. Mattheo took her silence as a guide to keep talking, “You’re, erm, muggle born right?” The shift in her eyebrows told Mattheo he started off with the wrong thing, quickly trying to back track and start over. 

“No, not like that! I just mean…you know what this is right?” He pulled his robes up, showing off the intricate pattern of string in his house colors. Hermione set down her quill, “You’re asking me if I know what a friendship bracelet is? What are you up to Riddle, some sort of prank?”

He quickly calmed the bit of anger that arose inside his chest, “It’s Mattheo…and no, it’s not a prank. Do you know how to make these? Where I could get the stuff for it?” She set down her quill, clasping her hands in front of her. 

“Why should I help one of Malfoy’s little friends?” Mattheo scowled for a brief moment, then cooled his face back down, “First of all, we’re not friends. Our proximity is by force not by choice, Granger. Second of all, I’m the one who gave him the black eye after Christmas.” 

They stared at each other in silence, Hermione very clearly trying to analyze if he’s being truthful. Mattheo did his best to keep his stoic, however he couldn’t hold her stare, eyes darting around at everything but her. 

“Fine…I’ll tell you, but just the basics.” 

Mattheo had never sat down so quickly at a library table all year. Hermione pulled out a piece of fresh parchment from her bag, ripping off about six inches. “There’s that much instruction?!” Mattheo was beginning to feel defeated, but Hermione just held up her hand to silence him. 

“I’m just writing basic instructions and a very rough illustration,” she turned the parchment to face him. Mattheo’s eyes danced over the words, desperately trying to make them all make sense. Hermione then tapped the tip of her wand to the parchment, the illustration now repetitively demonstrating how to start the knots. 

Mattheo had to stop his jaw from dropping, “Woah.” Hermione shrugged, “That’s the best you’re getting, don’t expect a real life example from me. It’s not going to be easy if this is the first time you’ve ever attempted it, I hope you know that.” 

His mouth flattened into a thin line, “I’m well aware…but erm, thanks for this.” He stuffed the parchment in the pocket of his robes and stood up. 

“Thanks for punching your cousin,” Hermione wore a small smile as she began focusing back on her work. He began to walk away before turning round to face her once more, “Where would I find the right-”

“Any common string will work, Ri- Mattheo.” 

He nodded, thanking her once more before leaving the library. He started down a random corridor, trying to wrack his brain on where in this ginormous castle he would find what he was looking for. 

The bracelet you made him was his house colors, would you like it if the one he made was yours? Fuck what was their favorite color again? Did they tell me? I’m such a shitty listener, Mattheo felt like he was going insane. This had to be perfect. 

His mind was going a mile a minute, round and round of what he might need, where he was supposed to get it. Then a door appeared next to him on the corridor wall. It looked like an entrance to a broom closet. He looked both ways down the corridor before shrugging his shoulders and turning the doorknob to walk inside. 

“Bloody hell…” the room did turn out to be about the size of a broom closet. But it also held about every color of string Mattheo could think of. There were also small bins of tiny beads, all different colors, some white and round with black little letters. 

As he searched for materials he noticed all of the house colors seemed to be sectioned off together. He walked over to the black and yellow of Hufflepuff before noticing another few sets of bins with different beads in them. Black beads, boring. Yellow beads, boring-er. 

Then he saw the perfect touch he wanted to add. A little gold bead with a tiny little black badger. Perfect, he thought, a badger for my badger. 

When your mother is Bellatrix Lestrange and your father is Voldemort, a lot of things will come easy to you. Magic, for instance, was something that Mattheo started to show signs of at around one year old. 

It was almost unheard of, but no one was really surprised. From what he’s told he was able to levitate his bottle to him whenever he wanted it. Since then most things would just come to him if he tried it or willed it. 

So why he was struggling so badly with making a simple bracelet out of string and beads he could not figure out. 

“Oh fucking hell,” he cursed out loud before trying to undo the last three knots that he had just realized were the wrong pattern for that line of color. 

Enzo tsked from across the room, “You still tryna work on that, Matt? You know their birthday is tomorrow.” Mattheo grumbled to himself getting up from his desk to go and punch his pillow a few times. 

“I’d say he knows, Berk,” Theo was laying out his uniform on his desk chair. “You do have a back up plan though right, Matty? I mean this as a friend who cares…you’re not finishing that tonight.”

Mattheo flopped down into his bed face first and screamed for five seconds straight. He then turned his head towards his friends, “I can buy them a hippogriff…they always talk about how that’s their favorite magical creature.” 

Enzo couldn’t control the bubble of laughter that left his throat as Theo quirked an eyebrow, “Mattheo…what would they even do with that? Where would they keep it? Just a hippogriff hanging in the Hufflepuff common room?” 

“They are the more nature loving house, Theo,” Enzo was biting his lip to stifle his giggles. Theo threw him a glare, turning back to Matty, “Where would they keep it over summers? Christmas holidays? Are they going to bring a hippogriff to their home in muggle London?!”

Enzo held out both of his hands in front of him, “Let’s not be too hasty, I definitely think Matt should get ‘em one. It’s a great idea.” 

Theo hopped of his bed, walking over to Enzo’s before giving the back of his head a good thwack! “Idiota de merda!” 

Enzo rubbed the back of his head with a grimace, “I’m getting tired of you sods bloody hitting me all the time.” Theo jumped back onto his own bed, “Then stop deserving it.” They started to lightly bicker back and forth, Mattheo just ignored them for the moment. 

Mattheo then glared at both of them, each boy turning away and mumbling something about it getting late and needing to go to bed. Mattheo followed suit, climbing completely under his covers and drawing his drapes.

He felt like a great weight was on top of him. Pressing him further and further into his bed. Squishing him down further into a pit reserved for the worst friends known to man and wizard kind. Maybe if he just succumbs to the darkness then he won’t have to wake up and disappoint you. 

He grabbed hold of the dragon you made him, holding it close to his chest and tucking it under his chin. He knew getting an actual hippogriff was a little crazy. But he could afford it, it wasn’t like it was out of his means. 

He tucked his face into his stuffed dragon, thinking again about how thoughtful and talented it was of you to make him the little stuffed animal. Then, right before sleep took over, a fantastic idea began consuming his thoughts. 

Mattheo slept through breakfast. He woke up with a start, covered in a sheen of sweat. He likely had a nightmare, of what he wasn’t sure. There were about three in rotation right now. 

In a rush he got ready and nearly sprinted to charms, getting to his seat beside you slightly out of breath. On the desk in front of him was a biscuit with jam. Gooseberry, his favorite. 

“Boys said you were sleeping when they left. Figured you might be late…and hungry,” you were smiling at him in that kind way that you do. He was thankful he ran that last bit to class as now you wouldn’t notice how intensely he was blushing. 

“T-thanks, but shouldn’t everyone be getting things for you today?” Mattheo had a shy smile on his face. You tilted your head slightly, he continued, “Because it’s your birthday. Erm. Happy Birthday, Y/n.” 

Your smile was unimaginably wide, “Thank you, Matty.” Flitwick entered the room from his office at the front, effectively silencing any conversation being had. 

The lesson went on in a fog, you studiously taking notes and Mattheo trying to figure out if he had enough time after potions and before lunch to grab your gifts from his room. 

Once Flitwick dismissed everyone, Mattheo walked you to your next class. “You didn’t have to do this, aren’t you going to be late to potions?” Your chest felt warm and you couldn’t stop smiling. 

Mattheo shrugged, “It’s your birthday, you deserve all the attention today.” You thanked him again before waving goodbye and entering your next classroom. 

As soon as your back was turned Mattheo started sprinting towards the dungeons. The only time he was thankful for his father being the Dark Lord was when it came to Professor Snape. 

Mattheo had been late to potions the most out of all of his courses this year. Each time Snape had given him a look, asked him to find his seat, but not taken any house points. Today had been the same. He did as asked, sitting next to Theo. 

“You figure out what to get your little badger?” Theo flicked his wand and ignited the flames beneath his and Mattheo’s cauldron. Mattheo nodded, “Yeah, gonna give it to them during lunch.” 

Theo continued to bug Mattheo throughout potions and the next lesson about what he ended up getting you. But Mattheo didn’t budge. He didn’t want anyone else to know your gift before you. He wanted it to be special, just like yours were to him. 

Mattheo told Theo he would meet him in the Great Hall, rushing back down to his dorm to grab your gift bags. When he finally made his way back up all the stairs, he found you sitting across from Theo and Enzo near the end of the Slytherin table. His rightful spot beside you free just for him. 

As he walked over he noticed two more gifts sitting in front of you. His face must have displayed his confusion as you happily clarified as he sat down, “Theo and Enzo got me gifts, isn’t that nice of them?” Mattheo turned to the other two boys. Theo wore a tight lipped smile, while Enzo showed all his teeth.

Mattheo sat both of his bags next to the others as you took the first small bag and began to open it. Theo sat up straighter, grin growing as you pulled out his gift. “Ice cream?” you asked, causing Theo’s face to turn up slightly in disgust. 

“Ice cream?? No, no, compagno, it is gelato! I don’t know if you know this, but I’m Italian, we do not eat ice cream. Would never let that monstrosity touch my tongue,” Theo fake gagged, sticking his tongue out. 

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, “Thank Merlin you told me. I couldn’t quite tell by your thick accent, so I’m glad you clarified.” A smirk adorned your face as Theo stuck his tongue out. 

“I owled mia mamma and she sent some over for me. There’s a chilling charm on it so it will always be cold, you don’t even have to put it in, erm,” Theo had his hand in front of him moving it in a circular motion, “como si dice…your cold box?” 

Enzo rolled his eyes, “The freezer.” You nodded in understanding, “Thank you, Theo. That’s so cool! Tell your mum thanks from me too.” Theo gave you a small nod as you grabbed the next bag. 

It was a little smaller than the first. You pulled off the top tissue paper to see what looked like a piece of ripped parchment. You held it up in front of you, staring at the blank piece of parchment. “Erm…thank you, Enzo.” 

Enzo displayed a toothy grin, shaking his head, “Turn it over.” You did as told, reading in small, sloppy scrawl, Coupon: good for two free flicks. You burst into a fit of laughter, holding your stomach. Mattheo had to shoot his arm out to catch you from falling backwards. 

“Care to share with the class?” Mattheo took the piece of parchment from you as you handed it over. “Good for two free flicks? Really Enzo?” Theo reached over the table, pulling a quill out of his back, “Let me notarize the back of this so he can’t go back on his word.” 

Enzo took the quill from Theo, signing below him, “I’m serious. You can use them whenever you think is necessary.” Mattheo and Theo rolled their eyes in sync. “Don’t use them all at once, I’d save them up if I were you.” 

Mattheo nodded, “Keep that parchment in a good place, I say make him wait a year or two and then go for the attack.” You took the ‘coupon’ back from Theo and folded it neatly, putting it in a safe pocket inside your bag. 

You went to grab the next gift, “These last two both from you, Matty?” He nodded shyly, “Em, yeah…Christmas and your birthday.” You beamed, beginning to take the tissue paper out of the bag before reaching inside. The first thing you pull is a pack of cauldron cakes. 

“Oh yum, my favorite, thank you Matty- Holy Helga is this…is this a little niffler?” You hold up the small stuffie of a baby niffler, turning it and showing it to the other two boys. Mattheo nods with a grin, “It has a little pocket in it’s belly like a real one. I figured you could keep your wizard money in there when you're on breaks or something.” He scratched at the back of his neck nervously. 

“That’s brilliant, thank you!” You grabbed for the second gift and Mattheo started unconsciously picking at his thumbs. You pulled out another stuffed animal, this one being, “A hippogriff? Mattheo…you didn’t!”

Theo huffed, “Be happy he did this, he almost bought you a real one.” Mattheo’s cheeks were instantly aflame. Enzo continued on, shrugging his shoulders, “I still think it would’ve been a good idea.” 

Mattheo cleared his throat, trying to distract from his friends, clearly trying to embarrass him, “Touch, erm, touch your wand to it’s tail.” You pulled your wand from your robe pocket, doing exactly as Mattheo told. 

No sooner did your wand meet the back of the hippogriff did its little stuffed wings begin to move, flapping up and down as the animal started lifting from the table, its head moving this way and that before touching back down to the table and becoming imobile once again. 

Mattheo always had a way to make you smile until your cheeks hurt. Today he had made your birthday one of the best you had ever had. “I-I don’t know if I can say thank you enough times for this, Matty.” 

The curly haired boy just shook his head, “It’s not as good as what you got me. I mean, Salazar's sake you made my gifts. I just bought these and put a simple flying charm on one. I tried to make you something but it, erm, I haven’t-”

“This is perfect, thank you,” you turned to Theo and Enzo, “all of you. Best birthday ever.” Enzo made the four of you cheers with your pumpkin juice, vowing that in a few years it’d be something stronger. You threatened to use one of your flicks almost immediately. 

Mattheo continued to try to work on his own friendship bracelet for you, any of the boys walking in on him at random times bent over his desk fiddling with colored string and randomly cursing. 

He became so determined that he frequently ignored Enzo’s requests to play exploding snap or Theo’s requests to play wizards chess. Mattheo just kept saying he was ‘busy’ or he ‘needed to just finish this one part’, frequently working until he couldn’t tell the strings apart and just decided to go to bed for the night. 

“Fucking finally! Ha!” Mattheo stood abruptly from his desk shouting in victory and causing Enzo to nearly shut his trunk on his fingers with a yelp. “Fucking hell, Matt, what is it?” 

Theo folded one of his sweaters and placed it in his trunk neatly before turning around, “Finally manage to make a bracelet, eh, Matty?” Mattheo walked over, proudly holding his creation for them to see. 

Enzo peered at it closely, “It looks…” Theo interrupted, “Perfect. It looks great, amico.” Mattheo nodded after getting his friend's approval, setting the bracelet on his night stand before going over to his closet, grabbing all of his things in a large pile and tossing them messily into his trunk. “There, all done,” he pretended to dust his hands off before going over to his bed and climbing in. 

He held his dragon close to his chest, whispering quietly to himself, “M’gonna have to hide you in my trunk over summer. Have to soak up the cuddles now little buddy.” 

The next morning was nothing short of chaos. Dozens of students in the slytherin common room shouting what they were still missing. Things like ‘accio scarf!’ Or ‘Has anyone seen a bag of marbles?’ could be heard across the expansive space. 

Mattheo ignored all of it as he, Theo and Enzo made their way from the common room to the main halls. Just as they left the common room entrance, Enzo stated that he forgot something in his trunk that he wanted for the train. 

Theo graciously, but not without eye roll, agreed to go back with him. Mattheo trucked on ahead, stating he was going to meet you by the great hall before heading to the boat docks. 

As expected, you beat him there, waiting by the large hall entrance for him. You were wearing muggle clothes, jeans and a relaxed t-shirt. Mattheo was dressed in very neat and very expensive wizard robes. “Don’t you look dashing,” your tone was teasing but you wore a smile as you said it. 

Mattheo’s face heated all the same, “And you look…comfortable.” You laughed, “More comfortable than you I assume. You going to a ball right as you arrive home?” The two of you began the walk and subsequent descent down the many many stairs to where the first year boats were docked. 

“Erm, no ball but this is what my mother believes proper pureblood wizards should wear all the time..” he trailed off a little shyly, pretending to be hyper focused on not falling down the last few stairs. 

Hagrid greeted you both kindly, sitting you in a boat with two ravenclaws before pushing it off the dock and towards Hogsmeade Station. “Welp, hope Theo and Enzo don’t kill us for leaving without them.” 

Mattheo shrugged his shoulders, “I’m sure they’ll find us eventually. Might as well enjoy the calm while we can.” You turned and looked behind you, taking a last glance at the castle for the year. 

“I’m gonna miss Hogwarts this summer. Do you think you will?” Mattheo watched you as you watched the castle, “Yeah, I’m gonna miss it a lot.” 

Once the boat docked Mattheo followed behind you on the platform and onto the Hogwarts Express. He didn’t understand why you were passing so many empty cars until you finally stopped and opened one. The same one you both rode to school in last September.

“S’gotta be tradition now, doesn’t it? Riding in the same car each year. Do you think we can manage it?” you sat on one of the car benches and kicked your feet up, stretching out. Mattheo thought about how early Feindre had gotten him to the train for his first year. It was likely always going to be that way. 

“I don’t think it’ll be a problem.” He sat down across from you, stuffing his hands in his pockets and pulling out a small envelope. “Hey, erm, I-I wanted to give you this before the others showed up. A going away present I s’pose.” 

You took the envelope from him, noticing your name printed across it in pointed and scratchy writing. “What is it? Oh, poo, I didn’t get you a going away gift,” you flipped the envelope over, pausing before opening it to pout slightly. 

Mattheo shook his head, “S’alright, not needed. Just..open this one and tell me if you like it.” 

You broke the seal, lifting the edge and peaking inside, “Is this what I think it is?” Your eyes suddenly grew wide as Mattheo gnawed on his bottom lip and shrugged. You opened your palm out flat, turning over the envelope. Out of it fell a black and yellow handmade bracelet with a single gold bead. 

“You made me a friendship bracelet?” Your voice was almost a whisper and you rubbed your fingers over the detail, holding it close to your face to inspect it. “Well…I made you a best friend bracelet. Now we match,” Mattheo’s voice sounded a bit small, but it was all the confidence he could muster. 

You shook your head with a smile, quickly turning over your wrist and attempting to tie it on with one hand. Mattheo picked at his thumbs for a moment before standing up and bridging the small space that was between the two of you, “Here lemme help.” 

His fingers fumbled slightly but he eventually was able to tie a knot correctly. You looked up from your wrist, meeting his eyes, “Thank you.” Mattheo held eye contact, “You’re welcome.” 

The train car opened with a slam, causing Mattheo to jump slightly before immediately sitting down on the bench beside you. You could feel the heat of his thigh on yours, but you didn’t say anything, Enzo’s mouth going a mile a minute with complaints. 

“I forget one bloody thing and you two go off and run to the train without us? You know Theo and I waited for like..five whole minutes at the Great Hall doors before saying screw it and just heading toward the docks. Only to see yet again that you two have left us.” 

Mattheo slumped back into the seat, “You’ve got to be kidding me, has he been like this the whole way?” Theo nodded, looking slightly exhausted, “You haven’t been listening to it for the last twenty minutes. Made us look in every train car window until we found you.” 

You looked around the car, laughing at your friend’s going back and forth at each other. Theo and Enzo started in at each other once again, causing you and Mattheo to make eye contact before bursting out in laughter. 

Mattheo smiled to himself. For the first time in probably his whole life, he would be confident in saying that at this moment, he was truly happy. For the next ten hours, he was determined to soak in as much of this happiness as he could, hoping it would last for the two months he would have to spend away from you.

[magpiepills]

Austin, Texas On A Rainy November Saturday, 2002

Rating: EXPLICIT 18+ MDNI

Pairing: Joel Miller x f reader

Word count: 750

Summary: the beginning of Joel’s obsession with you.

Warnings: full delusion. PIV no y/n no editing, no proofreading, but with approval from a horny focus group. Quick and dirty, some feelings, some want, dare I say, romance?? Don’t get used to it.

A word from the author: idk, man. Don’t ask questions, ok?

Masterlist

Turgid Members

You and Joel have mutual friends. You hang out sometimes, you’re in someone basement drinking, watching movies, whatever, everyone is having fun, he touches you a lot, your arms, your shoulders, your hip when he’s walking by, really playful, you’re both a little drunk maybe, he gets more frisky and starts play wrestling with you, you’re into it, laughing, pinning each other, then he kisses you and suddenly you can feel that he’s hard. You sneak off to another room alone, and make out while he’s got his hand down your pants. He texts you the next morning. Wants to get brunch.

Brunch turns into a museum date. He’s very touchy. Holding your hand, arm around your shoulder, your waist, wrapping his arms around you while you look at paintings, he kisses your neck. You don’t even know how much time has passed. You leave the museum and he asks you to come over. He says he can make pasta. You walk to his apartment. He boils water while you look at his books and whatever else he has out. You’ve got similar taste. He makes simple pasta, apologizes it’s not fancy, you eat on his couch, he remembers he has wine. He’s got a record player, just got it, it’s on the floor. You both sit there and he picks something you love without you telling him. He’s looking at you. You look at him and feel a little flushed at the attention. He kisses you, pulling you close, then easing you back onto his nice rug. He leans over you, kisses you just the way you like while he strokes your body. Your belly, your ribs, your hip.

He’s in love with you. He can’t say it because it’s too soon. He kisses your neck instead. He pops the button of your jeans. Eases them open and scoots down between your legs. He kisses your belly, down as far as he can, groans when you twist his hair in your fingers. He can’t wait any more. He sits up and yanks your pants down, taking your underwear with them, and

Pushes your knees up, letting him see how wet he’s made you. He exhales, “fuck,” and unbuttons his own jeans, pushing them down just enough to take his cock out. It’s big and thick and uncut, and you reach out to stroke it. He covers his hand with yours, showing you how he likes to be touched. He leans down to kiss you, his hand at the back of your neck. Now that you’ve seen his cock, you’re preoccupied with fucking him. You pull him back down on top of you, your legs around his waist. He thrusts against you, sliding against your pussy, whining at how big he feels. You think you could come just like that, with him gliding his fat cock against your clit, letting it catch at your dripping, clenching entrance. You’re there. You’re already coming just from that, and as you come he pushes into you. He grinds deep and slow, making you feel fuller than anyone else ever has. You’re holding on to him, grabbing at his back, his hair, his biceps, and he fucks you through it slowly. When it passes, he picks up the pace. He fucks you harder and faster and shoves your shirt up your chest. You pull the cups of your bra down so he can suck your nipple into his mouth. His mouth is hot and his teeth scrape against your nipple, just enough to make you whine. He likes all the sounds you’re making, especially the way you’re crying his name. He wants you to like him so badly. He angles his hips to grind against your clit. Keeping a steady rhythm until he can feel you come again. Your body feels like jelly.

He’s close. He can’t hold back any more. Your mouth is on his neck, and he’s pumping inside you. You can feel the pulsation of his cock and he thrusts deep one last time. For a little while you stay just like that. You’re both panting and a little giddy. He kisses you again before he pulls out. When you’ve cleaned up, he asks you to stay, but you really can’t. You have to get home. He takes you in his car, but holds your hand while he drives. Kissing your knuckles and telling you how it was so nice to spend the day with you and he hopes it’s not too soon to see you again tomorrow.

[sorsaky]

Mae x Noa → Sailor Song |Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes| MV

You are stronger and smarter than you think

Another Noa x Mae edit! These two are just my ultimate OTP—ahhh! This was a quick edit inspired by listening to Sailor Song, and I felt it perfectly matched their vibe. It's a simple edit without too many effects, but I think it captures the mood of the song well. Plus, it's my contribution to Nomae Week. Hope you enjoy it!

Just to clarify, I don't support bestiality or zoophilia in real life. This edit is purely for fun and creative expression, celebrating the fantasy world these characters belong to. Shipping fictional characters is a common and enjoyable part of fandoms, and if it's acceptable for movies like "Beauty and the Beast," then it's also fine for Noa x Mae!

Program: Sony Vegas Pro 17 Song: Gigi Perez - Sailor Song https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1lrFsXkT_rM Time Taken: 3 hours Media: Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Kdr5oedn7q8

planetoftheapes #kingdomoftheplanetoftheapes #noaxmae #nomae #beautyandthebeast

You can contact me here:

instagram: https://www.instagram.com/sorsaky/

"Copyright Disclaimer Under Section 107 of the Copyright Act 1976, allowance is made for "fair use" for purposes such as criticism, comment, news reporting, teaching, scholarship, and research. Fair use is a use permitted by copyright statute that might otherwise be infringing. Non-profit, educational or personal use tips the balance in favor of fair use."

@nomae-week-2024

[techav]

On Multitasking

Sharing a Computer with Friends

The Motorola 68030 was a decently powerful microprocessor for its day. It is a fully 32-bit processor with 16 general-purpose registers, separate instruction & data caches, memory management unit, 18 addressing modes, over 100 instructions, pipelined architecture, and was available rated up to 50MHz. It was used in computers by Apple, Amiga, NeXT, Sun, Atari, and saw further life embedded in devices such as printers, oscilloscopes, and network switches. It was the kind of microprocessor used for desktop publishing, 3D CAD & animation, photo & video editing, etc.

In short, the 68030 is a microprocessor that can do some serious work. That's part of why I like it so much. It's a real workhorse chip but as far as 32-bit microprocessors go, it's dead simple to build with.

But running a single quick & simple BASIC program hardly seems like an adequate exercise for such a capable chip.

There is a prevailing claim that the 68000 architecture was heavily inspired by that of the PDP-11 or VAX minicomputers — powerhouses of the previous generation of computing. These machines ran entire businesses, at times servicing many simultaneous users. Surely the 68030 with similar capabilities but significantly faster instruction throughput than the decade-older machines would be more than capable of handling such a workload.

As I've mentioned before, one of my end goals for my 68030 projects is to run a proper operating system. Something like System V, BSD, or Linux; a true multi-user system befitting of the 68k's architectural heritage. My programming skills are limited, and getting such a complex project running is still outside my reach. But I am learning, and slowly inching myself closer to that goal.

Recently I built an expansion card for my Wrap030 project to add another four serial ports to it. In the context of the old minicomputers, another serial port means another terminal, which means the ability to serve one more user. My new 4-port serial card should give me the ability to add four new user terminals.

If only I had software capable of doing so.

Excluding symmetric multiprocessing and today's multi-core behemoths, supporting multiple user processes on a single computer processor means dividing time between them. The computer will run one user's program for a little while, then stop and run another user's program for a little while. Do this fast enough and neither user might ever notice that the computer is paying attention to someone else — especially since the computer spends much of its time just waiting for user input.

There are a few ways to accomplish this, but the simplest is to just make sure that every user program is written to cooperate with the others and periodically yield to the next user program ("Cooperative Multitasking"). A good time to do this is whenever the program needs to wait for input from the user or wait for a device to be ready to accept output.

Enhanced BASIC (68k EhBASIC), which I have been running on all of my 68k computer builds, was written in such a way that lends itself well to this sort of cooperative multitasking. It runs a tight loop when waiting for input or output, and while running a BASIC program, it stops at the end of each line to see if the user has pressed Ctrl-C to stop the program. This means that EhBASIC never goes too long without needing to check in with slow I/O devices. All that would needed is a simple kernel to set things up and switch to another user's processes whenever each time one of them is waiting for I/O.

So I set about creating such a minimal multi-user kernel. On startup, it initializes hardware, sets up some data tables for keeping track of what each user program is doing, loads BASIC into RAM, then starts running BASIC for that first user. Whenever a user process needs to read data from or write data to its terminal, it asks the kernel to handle that I/O task for it. The kernel will save the state of the user program to the data table it set up in the beginning, then switch to the next user to let it run until it too asks for assistance with an I/O task.

The kernel works through all user processes round-robin until it loops back around to the first user. After restoring the state of the user's process the kernel will service the I/O task that user process had originally requested, and return to let that user process run for a little while again. So all of the other user processes get their chance to run while one is waiting on data, and each process makes sure to allow the others a chance to run for a while when they are in the middle of running their own program.

I was able to throw together a quick proof of concept using the EASy68K simulator. What followed was days of catching all of the tiny mistakes I made, such as saving register A0 to the memory location reserved for register A1, overwriting the value previously saved for A1 and effectively losing both in the process — an error which resulted in BASIC printing only the first three characters of its startup header followed by a long string of null characters.

Debugging was tricky. I was starting from the bottom. No standard library, no existing structure or frameworks to rely on. The kernel process relied on the very same registers the user programs were using. Any changes to register contents by the kernel would affect the user processes. I ended up adding assembly macros to print short statements and register contents to the kernel console to try to get some insight into what was happening. I was able to track when registers came out of the user context save/restore process different than when they went in to find where I had bugs in that process.

This was a challenging project resulting in nearly a thousand lines of very low-level 68k assembly code, all of which I wrote and rewrote multiple times before figuring everything out. I've written small pieces of assembly code over the years, but none which required such deep dives into the CPU documentation to discern fine details of how the chip operates. I got there eventually though and now I have an 8MHz 68030 homebrew computer with 2MB of RAM that can run four BASIC programs simultaneously.

I'm going to need more terminals.

[mondaymelon]

₊˚ෆ 𝐈 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐀 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓, 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔? | lyney, neuvillette, wriothesely x gn!reader

ˋ°•*⁀➷ cw: established relationship, fluffity fluff !! art by @/puna_822 on twitter, edited by me!

⤷ shh!! secret relationships with the fontaine men ₊˚ෆ

— Lyney will keep the secret well, of course. He’s a jack of all trades, and a little bit of misconception is nothing taxing for someone who can trick the eye with just a simple swipe of his hands.

…Though, his personality often brings much more to deal with behind the scenes. His every action is designed as a ruse, trying to draw any and every reaction from you - whether it be making you irritated as can be or practically burning from his smooth words. He’ll at the red on your face with a light smirk gracing his lips. “Embarrassed, now, are we? Mhm, best wipe it off your face though, lest anyone find out~”

Dealing with the magician was a headache. A delightful one, but painful nonetheless. He has a habit of saying whatever he wants, and it doesn’t help that he’s so good at it too. His tongue can twist poems out of thin air, or pickup lines at the drop of a hat. The number of times Lynette had glanced over at you with a concerned gaze was far more than you could count, and it would be only a matter of time before another carefully crafted sentence sent the entire mirage into collapse. The two of you had only decided to keep your relationship private in the first place due to work affairs. It’d just make things more frustrating if people were aware of the connection. In earlier weeks, you had tried to confront the man about the entire predicament, but he had only laughed it off with a shrug of his shoulders and a jesting beam. 

“Oh, don’t tell me that the words I tell you every day still make you so flustered? Archons, you really are a hopeless romantic, aren’t you? Although, for you, I suppose I’m no different…” 

When Freminet had eventually voiced his worries, gently holding your hands and saying, “A-Are you okay? Your face is really red, are you sick? Should I walk y-you home?”, there was no other choice but to shake your head, cover your flushed cheeks as best you could with a hand, and tell a blatant lie that there was nothing out of the ordinary.

There most certainly was, and it was the cat-like man who stood off to the side, a sly smirk on his face and one of his eyes closed in a wink. Not helping, Lyney.

When would the day come for you to be the one to make him flustered? Perhaps it was sooner than you thought, on his opening night for the new season. You weren’t sure if he had expected to see you in the crowd, but as he was performing his wonderous tricks, eyes sweeping over the hundreds present, his shimmering lilac eyes locked onto yours. His professional smile stretched a little wider, and as he pulled a dove out of his hat with a flourish of his arms, beamed. The astonished look on your face was something he’d be sure not to forget.

As soon as the lights dim onstage, he hurries off of it, giving Lynette a quick farewell and combing back his unruly hair with his fingers. He spots you standing by the exit, holding… a bouquet of roses in your arms? They were a beautiful sight, yet paled in comparison to how ethereal you looked in the moment, the spotlights afar illuminating your face with a glow and your eyes sparkling with delight. This always happens when the two of you are alone - he’ll switch from verbal affection to physical, and this time is no exception. He sweeps you into his arms, slotting his lips against yours as he pulls you into a deep kiss that leaves you breathless and red. However, this time, the blush dusting your cheeks is not only on your face but his, as he takes the flowers in his arms with a bright smile. 

“For me, love? Come now, I can’t possibly keep how good we are together from everyone else, can I?” ₊˚ෆ

— Neuvillette is… an interesting case. For starters, he’s baffled at the concept of keeping the relationship a secret. Elaborate that you don’t want to ruin his reputation as a perfect, just, and stone-cold judge, and he’ll oblige… reluctantly. He still doesn’t understand - just why can’t he show you how much he loves you in public?

For now, he’ll have to chalk it up as more human affairs that he’s deemed too complicated to figure out. Ground rules have been laid out - no mentioning the relationship, no telling anyone either… not even the melusines, which was a fair case, since they’d be sure to spread the news faster than wildfire. The mortal realm is far more puzzling than it seems, he concludes somberly. An unfamiliar world that was arduous to coexist in. It’ll be alright, though, as long as he can intertwine his fingers with yours and look into your eyes and-

“N- Sir Neuvillette… not here!” You chide quietly, slowly withdrawing your hand from his. His face falls into an instant, brows furrowing. He’ll bite his tongue, for your sake, and remain silent, yet his fingers twitch. Archons, his hands feel so much better when they’re in yours. The man watches with dejected eyes as you whip your head around anxiously, before gesturing for Neuvillette to bend down. He complies, and matches himself to your height, yet immediately pauses any motion as soon as he feels your lips brush against his forehead. You brush a stray lock of his behind his reddened ears, a grin curving on your lips.

“Don’t be too disappointed, okay? I don’t want it to rain on my way back home~” You beam slyly as you lean away, witnessing Neuvillette’s expression undergo several stages - downcast, shocked, flustered… and then a small smile graces his expression.

“I’ll see you when I get home. Don’t wait up for me. The case might run late.” Neuvillette chuckles to himself, straightening his posture as he softly pinches your cheek, laughing at the way you begin to pout. It’s something the melusines told him to do, and he’s glad he listened - your face is soft, and he has to hold himself back from kissing you. He can hear people around the corner, their voices growing closer. “Get home safe.”

“Love?” Whenever the dragon enters home, he’ll call you by the name he’s unable to call you anywhere else - something he loathes with a burning sensation in his chest. “Are you…” His voice fades as he sees you curled up on the couch, eyes closed and chest slowly rising and falling with every breath. Had you tried to stay up for him? Cute. He takes you in his arms and brings you to the bedroom, carefully arranging the pillows and blankets around your sleeping form. You stir in your state, lids slowly fluttering open as you stare at the man above you with drowsy eyes.

“Neuvi?” The use of his nickname makes his heart flutter. It’s utterly incomparable to what you call him at work, “Sir Neuvillette.” Too rigid. You giggle at the sight of him, still half-asleep, and cup his face in your hands. “Welcome home… did I fall asleep? Ah, I’m sorry, I guess I was too tired…?”

The smile on his face won’t leave.

Yes, moments like these allowed him to continue this strange human practice.

He places his hands on yours, reveling in your warmth.

“Sleep, love.” ₊˚ෆ

— Wriothesley’s used to being professional. If he wasn’t, his work would be a lifetime more demanding than it was at the moment - although, perhaps even that’d be easier than keeping himself away from you until watchful eyes are no longer present.

He’s touchy whenever he’s with you. He likes leaning into your figure, even if you’re shorter than him, just to take in the way you embrace him back, but he loves the feeling of your fingers with his even more. It makes him feel… giddy, light, like he could drift away with the slightest breeze.

And that’s an issue. In order for you to remain safe, he’ll have to stay hushed about you being his lover. He’s made enemies, that much is natural. Of course, he’ll comply with your wishes to keep the relationship private. You could tell him to eat dirt and he’d do just that. Things like that are second nature now. Before, he had no trouble lasting weeks, or months in the Fortress of Meropide at once. After all, there was no driving incentive to head back to the city of Fontaine other than greeting the melusines, dropping off official papers, or, his guilty pleasure, ordering bags upon bags of tea from the mainland, so that he’d have more than enough to drink at the fortress. Now that you were here, however, how could he possibly stay away longer than a few days? If your hands in his were what made him float away, your smile brought him back, with a racing heart in his chest and a smile spread across his features. He’d give the world to see your smile, since it was his world. A single laugh from you would cause the background to fade to white, and rouse his heart and face into a flustered mess.

The prisoners notice a difference. Of course, they don’t know who this mysterious person the duke is seeing, but all they know is that they’re certainly working wonders. On miraculous, wondrous days, they'll even catch a glimpse of a smile on his face while he’s sitting at his desk, sifting through paperwork. As time passes, the news only grows more widespread, eventually reaching the ears of the ludex himself. It’s true, there is an apparent change - one that he captures on the duke’s more frequent visits to land. For a while, fables and tales of Wriothelsey’s mysterious lover spread throughout the city from ear to ear in hushed, excited whispers.

He’ll tease you about it, of course, but he’s really just rather intrigued. Has he really changed that much after meeting you? He doesn’t think so, but he wouldn’t put it past himself. “Darling, darling…” He repeats your petname when you don’t immediately react. “Darling, c’mon…” He can feel the pout creeping on his lips.

“Impatient, are we, Wrio?” You sigh as you turn away from your work, and his icy eyes light up in an instant. You stroke your hand through his hair gently, carding your fingers through the soft, dark strands, and you can see the way Wriothelsey simply melts under your touch. “You’ve been seeking me quite often these days, haven’t you?”

Maybe he has changed. Staring up at you with half-lidded eyes and a smile playing on his lips, feeling his ears warm, perhaps that conjecture has been solidified as the truth.

“Is it so wrong to wish for you, darling?”

(a/n) ngl i kinda hate this fanfic. everything about it. everyone seems so ooc and the prompt is barely even mentioned ew ew ew not my best work by far please dont tell me writers block is coming back i hate that big bad scary thing

໒꒱ || ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (open! send an ask or a comment ♡) : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @achlysis, @swivy123, @scara-is-my-wife

[prael]

Kinktember 2024 - A Retrospective

What. A. Month. I want to start with my gratitude to every single person who read, commented, liked, reblogged, sent asks, discussed, and otherwise interacted in any other possible way with this whole shebang.

To close it all out, I want to give some of my thoughts and peel back the curtain a little on Kinktember.

Some Facts

168,396 words. One hundred and sixty-eight thousand, three hundred and ninety-six words. Averaging at 5,155 words per fic. Wow.

52 unique idols made an appearance and four were featured on more than one occasion; Wonyoung, Karina, Chaewon and Sakura are the four idols who hold that prestige.

Writing time on these pieces varied heavily, while I attempted to constrict myself to writing each fic in a single day, some of them got far beyond initially planned, with the most amount of time being spent on day 18, the IU fic. That one took roughly a total of 20 hours including editing. The quickest was as short as a 2-hour turnaround on days 14 and 15 (Chaewon and Youngeun).

Special Thanks

I’d like to take a moment before giving my personal thoughts to make a special token of gratitude to certain people. While there has been so much support from so many people and I would love to shout everyone out, I’m limiting myself to just a few.

Firstly, to @maemisnippets for the message on 14/07/2024 that was simply “Stand and carry” in reference to Youngeun. That single simple message became the catalyst for this entire Kinktember.

Secondly, to @midnightdancingsol for taking the time to help me make the initial plan for all the days of Kinktember and making many great suggestions that spawned a lot of these fics. Also thank you to everyone else for your suggestions and ideas.

Finally, to @capslocked for a great many things, from discussing details as small as how to format my posts to everything else you did.

Your Questions

Did you set yourself a time to do each one like a challenge to finish each to make it manageable? I gave myself 1 day per fic, whatever time I could spare during that day would be all I had to complete it, I think for around 27 of them, I managed to stick to this schedule. Some of them did spill over into a second day, such as the longer ones like IU.

How the hell did you find the motivation/inspiration to complete the whole thing? Honestly, I found it incredibly fun. I think I often get stuck in bigger projects and my brain gets all foggy, but with all of these fic being quick and snappy, I never got that feeling. Things kept being fresh and exciting and I was pretty much always looking forward to jumping into the next fic.

How did you approach choosing your kinks? / How did you come up with more of the exotic kinks? First I started with the obvious ones, the ones that instantly came to mind, and just threw them into a list. There are some niche ones that I always wanted to write too, but never had a reason to, such as electrophilia and vicarphilia. So even the more ‘exotic’ choices, I was acutely aware of. Then to round it out I did a little research online and pulled together a list of ‘potential’ kinks, which allowed me to fill out the missing slots.

Did you find varying each entry to be easy or difficult? What went into your thought process when it came to setting up each of the entries and the kink involved? Collecting a list of varied kinks was rather easy, at least initially, once I cut that down to the ones I would like to write, I ended up with a few spaces, and those final few became really difficult. But that’s why it’s great to have a community to lean on and ask for ideas. The thought process wasn’t really anything special beyond that. I just created a list and then picked out what I wanted to write, and then decided on idols to feature in each one. This leads nicely onto the image below, I scraped this initial list from a DM with another writer. As you can see, the initial list I put together on day one contained a large number of the ideas that made it into the final cut. This also serves as an answer to the questions on what ideas I decided to drop.

How did you match the featured idol(s) to the kink you have planned? Was it based on their idol personality? Or was it just random? I approached it in a similar way to how I would with most other fics, where if I think an idol’s personality lends itself to the fic, then I will do just that. Of course, it’s impossible to be really accurate and I had to take some creative liberties where needed. Although, on some occasions, I did just throw an idol in there and write her without thinking about her actual personality too much. This usually happens with idols I know less about.

I'm curious how you went about writing some of the more nicher kinks like electrophilia? The simple answer would be to say that I approached it the same way as I did every other fic. None of the kinks required me to do any further research as they’re all kinks that I’m familiar with and am interested in. So in the end I just wrote what felt right.

Was there an idol that you started liking after finishing writing her? For the sake of my own enjoyment/motivation, I only chose to write idols I already liked. Though I would say that writing the Shuhua fic made me a lot more attracted to her than normal. I could also possibly put IU here too, since she’s not really on the forefront of my mind, but became much more so after writing her.

Was there an idol in particular that you 'wanted' to write, but ultimately switched it to a different idol instead? REI. How did I not write REI?! She was in the original draft list where I was going to do some form of bondage piece, but ultimately all the ideas I had for it were absorbed into other fics.

This feels like a good point to share this initial list I completed with Sol while planning. A lot of this remained true to plan, but you may spot some changes.

Now that it's done are you glad you did it or did you end up regretting your decision at some point? Overall, I’m happy and proud and think it was 100% worth it. I relished the challenge and it took me out of my comfort zone. Right now, the only regrets I have are the fics where I know I could have done more/better but I know that I have to accept that I did the best I could in the time constraints. There were times along the way when I had my regrets and wondered if I should even have bothered, particularly when a fic wasn’t well received, but I know now I had just to accept that.

Do you feel more familiar with your style/voice as a writer, if so: what have you discovered? Did you learn anything from this writing-wise? Discovered some new writing styles and possibly improved some? I think the most important thing I took away from this is how important it is to just get words down on the page. I have spent time previously stuck in my own head and grinding to a halt in a fic when trying to make things work. Kinktember simply wouldn’t allow that, so I had to adapt. I learned to be ruthless by deleting the things that didn’t work and pushing on without trying to be overly perfect. I don’t think I developed my ‘voice’ or style too much because I believe it did have to take a backseat at times in order to maintain pace. However, I did get the opportunity to try new things, such as FxF and writing for a gender-neutral reader and also varying the pacing within the fics. Fics such as the Kkura one where I cut together four short, connected scenes really suited the concept and were very fresh to write.

Which fic do you think the idol and the kink are a 'perfect' match? Maybe in terms of reader reception or how quickly you got into the flow state when writing it? Well, I wasn’t sure at the time, but I was told that Karina and dressing up as a maid worked really well. I also think there were a few really obvious combinations that I leaned on, such as spanking Chaewon and having Ryujin and Yeji scissor, or having Minju be a doll. Those are ones that just instantly clicked for me and I thought to myself it was a perfect match. I would say I entered the biggest flow state when writing the Moka x Yunah, I found it incredibly hot, so much so that I finished the fic and then when going to edit, I wrote the second scene. Idk I’m just really down bad for Moka rn. Also, I hear that I really nailed the Yunjin/Kkura/Chaewon dynamic, so probably that one too.

Is there a fic that you would have written regardless but just so happened to be included in kinktember, if that makes sense? I never really know what I’m going to write next until I’m writing it, and I never know if it will be posted until I post it. This makes it hard for me to really guarantee that anything in Kinktember would one day come to fruition. The closest to it would be part 2 of the Minji fic, How Sweet To Be Alone. I always wanted to follow up on it, so being able to add it as a kinktember fic became a bit of a perfect storm. There are other fics too that I always wanted to write, and maybe I would have one day, but kinktember made it a reality.

Would you do kinktember(or any other variant) again? Would you recommend writers to try it at least once? I would say I’m more likely to do it again than I am not, but I can’t guarantee it. As for recommending it to other writers… the honest answer is no. I feel that it goes against so many of a writer's natural instincts. It takes over your life. It consumes your time. You’re forced to work unnaturally hard and you’re forced to reduce your standards. I don’t think it’s healthy for anyone to push to do something like this.

Finally, throughout the month I had so many nice asks that I couldn't respond to, but I read them all and appreciated them all so much.

[icantdothistodaybruh]

[[Tumblr ate another Anon's ask about my way of drawing\painting I can't with this app😭😭😭 If half a year later this ask mysteriously reappears in my notes like previous I'll edit screenshot of it up here, other then that I just hope you'll still see this post, dear Anon🕯🥀]]

Hello Anon!

I made a quick timelapse of one of my old-ish work for you, under the cut I'll go into more details about the process! I hope it'll be of use to you, but don't expect some crazy insights, I'm a messy artist ahjkakhj

So, step one! When the sketch is clean enough for me, I go in with plain colours to block out objects that I'll be refining on separate layers later. At the same time it helps me take a step back from details and break down the image into bigger, simpler shapes, so it's easier to find better composition and proportions.

Step two (actual colouring) Usually my brain shuts down on me on that part too, Anon… Basically I use a very limited palette at the start and gradually build up more hues and contrasts as I go. Sometimes I do a gray scale drawing first to get my values right, but this one is simple and was more of a vent&relax piece for me so there is none of that haha Also, since I tend to work on as little layers as possible and merge sketch layer and colour layer together at literally the first opportunity I get, most of the times I have a copy of my sketch saved on a separate hidden layer in case I overdo the painting part and need some roughness back.

Step three, Details! And when I say details I mean

D E T A I L S .

There is simply something magical in squiggly lines and dots… I can never fight them…

There is not much of advise I can really give you here, just do what feels right to you, what looks beautiful to you. Make your art finished in the way you see it finished, take another step back and ask yourself "what's missing? what feels undone? empty?". Combine styles, find new patterns and brushes, most importantly HAVE FUN!!!

Sooner or later you'll find the perfect algorithm for painting and drawing, only to 5, 20, 50 works down the line realize that's something in your own style doesn't sit right with you anymore and feels rather routinish and start that journey anew.

Never stop your searching, chase after your own definition of beauty because without you there will be nobody to show it to others.

[musubi-sama]

Impatient

Are you hungry? Horny? A little demanding, perhaps impatient?

CW: general horniness, horny use of a kitchen counter, hints of phone sex, gratuitous fingering, teasing, mentions of rope and bondage.

A/N: Shoutout to @pseudowho for the edits and review on this one. Haitch, you really helped tighten it up nicely (pun intended).

You were finally home after a long day of meetings that should have been emails, and project deadlines assigned by managers so far removed from the work itself, that they had lost all concept of time.

Walking in the door, you shedded your shoes haphazardly in the entrance, before leaving a trail of bags, jackets, and pants littering the hallway. Clad in only socks, a tunic, bra, and a simple pair of black cotton panties, you skillfully pulled your workhorse bra out of your shirt.

“Ah, much better,” you exhaled in exhausted comfort.

Reaching the kitchen, you grabbed a wine glass from a cabinet, and the leftover wine from the night before. Perhaps the glass was a bit overfilled, but to hell with the rules and etiquette of wine drinking. If rulemakers had had the week you did, and the dry spell you did, they’d understand.

After taking a two-gulp drink of wine, you turned back to the cabinets, now in search of a snack - you tried to convince yourself you’re only hungry for food.

Gripping the edge of the counter, you bent over to stretch your back. Sticking your ass out into the empty space behind you, you were reminded it had been two weeks since you last felt the grind of your husband.

“I miss you. My flight gets in late tomorrow, don’t wait up for me.” Suguru called you before bed, every night of his business trip. “I’m coming with you next time. I’ll work remotely. I don’t care. It’s been far too long and my toys aren’t enough,” you whined, hand slipping below your panties. “Tell me what you’re doing right now…”

Before resuming your search, you continued to make quick work of your wine, quickly shifting your hunger into something more aching, something more lustful. You’d definitely need to grab another bottle before making a decision.

Reaching up again, and standing on your tippy toes, a large, warm hand gently slid around your hip. You jumped, but the familiarity hit immediately.

In a fit of joy, you spun around to see Suguru’s hungry eyes. You started to bring your hands up around his neck and he wrapped his hand and arm fully under your ass, pulling you up to the counter. His chest pressed briefly against you in a fleeting embrace of convenience.

“Oh!” You didn’t even get a moment to greet him, before he planted your feet, legs spread wide across the counter.

Immediately recognizing what this could have meant for you, you tried again to wrap your arms around Suguru’s neck.

“C’mere-“ You were cut off as Suguru leaned down into the cabinet below you to rummage around. Having secured his target, he stood back up, holding a frying pan.

“Are you in the mood for bacon and eggs?” Suguru stepped away from you, a gentle smile on his otherwise unreadable face.

Your stomach sunk with peevish disappointment.

“I’m-…sure. That sounds fine,” you answered, clipped. “Welcome home, by the way.”

Suguru stepped back, his eyes darkening in contrast to his continued calm and relaxed smile. He set the pan gently on the stove beside you. Returning to you, Suguru placed his hands upon your thighs, just above your knees. You see he is travel weary, mixed with the dying wisps of a bright and airy cologne, clearly arriving at the end of a long day.

Your face belied the frustration you were attempting to hide.

“Unless you have some other ideas for dinner?” Suguru raised one eyebrow, slightly cocking his head to the side. His hands slipped one centimeter down your legs, his thumbs digging into the soft, squishy inner part of your exposed thighs.

“Oh come on,” you whined, dropping your head backwards in frustration. “I’ll spell it out for you. Either put your tongue to work on my pussy or let me drop to my knees right now and take you down my throat.”

Suddenly a hand gripped your throat and your head whipped up, meeting Suguru’s intense amethyst eyes. You feel a rush of blood to your neglected pussy. Suguru’s other hand grips the gusset of your panties, pulling them up as far as they allowed, giving you just a little pressure.

“I wanted to make you dinner, make sure you had enough energy for when I fuck you senseless later. But apparently you’re too fucking-“ he squeezed just a little tighter around your neck. You let out a high-pitched whine, “-impatient.”

You squirmed under his touch, trying to use the pressure from the fabric pulling against you to gain some amount of relief. Suguru chuckled as he adjusted his grip to reduce the pull. Your needy gaze pleaded with him.

Bringing one hand up to grip Suguru’s wrist, you held tightly.

“Damn right I’m fucking impatient! It’s been two weeks and while I loved listening to you talk me through it on the phone-“

You were cut off as Suguru removed his hand from your throat, dropped to his knees, and ripped your panties off in one swift tug. Using both hands to spread your labia apart, he wasted no time before laying his tongue flat across your sensitive cunt. Savoring the taste, he went back for more, this time with increased pressure and using the tip of his tongue.

Reaching for Suguru’s hair, pulled half-up into a bun, you grounded yourself by gripping tightly. Your moans gained volume with each press of his tongue and you began to roll your hips in response.

He pulled his head back for just a moment and you locked eyes. A sheen of your wetness smeared across his jaw, and Suguru licked his lips as he drew lazy circles around your throbbing clit. Renewed whines fell from your lips as you head tipped back once again, this time in abject pleasure.

Soon, you felt his middle finger teasing at your entrance, dipping just the tip, then up to the cuticle, the first knuckle as you buck your hips. Suguru still teased your impatience, continuing this pace until his entire finger was sheathed. Finally, after an agonizing wait, he added his ring finger at the same infuriating pace, encouraging you to fuck yourself onto his hand.

Your whines were caught in your throat as he curls his fingers upwards, lightly dragging against the sensitive spongy spot deep in your pussy. In reaction to the intense pleasure building, you gripped his hair again and brought his face back to your sopping wet cunt. Feeling a tug on his scalp, Suguru’s moans reverberated through you, a gentle personal vibrator.

Picking up speed, the squelchsquelchsquelch added a sinful melody to the base of your combined moans and panting countermelodies. You could feel the cliff approaching. The pressure built, the high you’d been chasing for two weeks but never quite reaching.

Suguru could read you well. So well, that he knew exactly how close you are when he pulled back, wetness soaking his fingers, collecting on his chin. And he knew exactly the way frustration would show across your features. Your legs would tense, a new shade of red would blossom across your cheeks. And you’d shout-

“What the fuck?!”

“That’s for being impatient and demanding I ‘put my tongue to work’ before dinner, like some trained monkey.”

Suguru stood up and used the back of his hand to wipe the remaining slick from his chin. He shoved his fingers in your mouth to stop further protest.

“Now, here’s your appetizer. Go make sure the straps are secured to the bed and get the purple ropes out of the closet, while I finish making us some food.”

Mulish and blushing, and thoroughly put in your place, you hungrily sucked his fingers clean as your legs dropped from the counter to sit up fully. Once you’d cleaned off Suguru’s fingers, savoring your own taste, he gave you a soft kiss to your forehead.

“Please,” Suguru added gently, suppressing a laugh as you stalked away to the bedroom.