#this book is transformative to say the least
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ghostoffuturespast · 2 months ago
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I don't remember the last book I finished. Finding the time, focus, and peace to read has only gotten harder as I've aged. I bought this book last year with the intention of reading it. But it sat on my shelf for months and I carted it around on numerous occasions, hoping to find the inspiration, and never gaining it.
I started reading it in January of this year though. It's now September. That's about nine months for a book that's just shy of 400 pages. I've read much longer books in much shorter amounts of time. I struggled to read this one, not only because of the constraints on my time and energy, but also because of the stories woven on its pages.
A nonfiction book has never made me cry before this. I had to take the time to sit with each story after every chapter. To understand the wisdom of Pecans. The abundance of Strawberries. The beauty of Salmon. The creativity of Fire. The honor of braiding someone else's hair. I had to stop to take it all in and commit each lesson to heart. Having listened to Skywoman's story, perhaps it's apt that it took me nine months to read this.
There are many stories in this book. Some are from legends passed down through generations, lost and found again. Others are from the study's of scientific tradition. But most often, they are the simple moments of every day. They are awe-inspiring and tinged with grief, but, more than anything, these many stories are one story of love. One that we have forgotten but need to remember.
This book was published almost ten years ago. If you haven't read it yet, you should.
If you have, it's worth reading again.
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yogurtlid10000 · 1 year ago
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collection of old unfinished link arts-except the tp link one, that’s new-THAT ARE SO FIRE TBH ‼️‼️🎉 how did I conjure this up last year what was I ON😕 yippe
I love how it’s a different facial structure every time. 😞
Tomatoes
LA la la La I’d like to draw Cyclonus next but also I Magnus cuz I missed his birthday ( secretly Magnus is my favorite transformers charcater )
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soloavengers · 7 months ago
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This is ser Dane, dubbed the Black Knight.
He’s a mysterious genius pawn, who retains his ability to travel through the rift despite being, by all appearances, bestowed and human. He wields a sword as dark as night, and it’s rumored that the sword is his true master (or absurdly, that his Arisen is trapped in it.) Pawns treat him as an anomaly, and most advise their Arisen to steer clear of him. However no Arisen has ever regretted hiring Dane, for he’s an excellent and clever fighter. Still they cannot deny that he’s quite odd for a pawn, like a man stuck in an awkward place between pawn and human.
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thetimelordbatgirl · 8 months ago
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All I got from my nan's today is that you shouldn't let me in a book shop as someone whose town lost their only book shop.
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mozart-the-meerkitten · 2 years ago
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Absolutely love that every single time Peet/Artham shows up to fight the Fangs are like “?!?! WHAT THE HECK, WHAT ARE YOU, WHAT’S HAPPENING?!” and they’re so in shock that it gives him time to completely decimate them.
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an-ruraiocht · 3 months ago
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90% of the time when i see reviews and posts saying "this book needed editing" i don't think the reader have any idea what editing actually entails. usually this is actually code for one of several "problems" with the book:
it's too long, or it's slower paced than this reader's preference. they believe "editing" would mean making it shorter
it has a heavily descriptive style, which the reader doesn't like. they believe "editing" means paring every sentence down to hemingway-style prose with no adverbs
it doesn't follow the very rigid "save the cat" style 3-act story structure, disrupting the reader's sense of narrative tension. an editor, they believe, would've made sure it did
there were a few typos or formatting errors, and they believe it's the editor's job to catch these (it's not, it's typically the proofreader and the typesetter who have responsibility for that kind of thing)
and finally, most often:
the author had different narrative priorities than the reader, who thinks an editor would have made the author change their priorities.
the thing is, there are actually issues with editors in trad publishing being overworked to the point where things aren't getting the thorough, thoughtful editing that they need to be the best version of themselves. there are plenty of badly-structured, poorly-researched, and clumsily written books out there. moreover copyediting is typically freelance and perhaps because of that, this is the area where i see the largest number of issues: continuity issues, grammar issues, factual errors etc that someone should've spotted and didn't.
but this is not typically what people's "this needed an editor" reviews are focusing on. most often it just means they didn't like the book and they've decided editing is an all-powerful force that would have transformed it into a book they liked. but that's not how it works. and disproportionately what this comment means is that the book doesn't match what current fashions have decided is The Correct Style to write in
"this book needed an editor" if it's traditionally published, it had one. like. by definition. it was an editor who bought the book. that doesn't mean the editor did a great job but they definitely existed. there were probably at least two (acquiring editor who does the dev edits; copyeditor who does copyedits), and the proofreader, and a bunch of other people besides.
also i think people think editors are the ones who like. implement the changes. but they don't. they give comments and recommendations and ask questions and the author is the one to act on them. the editor will not rewrite the book. they will not fix the problems themselves, they will highlight the problem and the author will figure out a fix for it, or they will decide they don't agree that it's a problem and leave it as it. and a lot of the sentence-level style stuff is entirely on the author so if they don't have an ear for the rhythm then nobody's going to fix that for them. editors do a lot less than people seem to imagine they do, tbh
anyway
for reference—
structural/developmental edits: is this chapter in the right place and does the plot make sense and is the characterisation consistent and effective
line edits: is this sentence in the right place and is it as stylish as it could be
copy edits: is this sentence grammatically correct and consistent/factually correct within the story/its world and do the spellings follow the publisher's stylesheet
proofreading: are there any typos in this sentence and was the formatting preserved correctly when it was typeset
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wonderjanga · 1 month ago
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Marvel Breaking the Fourth Wall
Only, he’s not. He’s talking to the Divine Twitch Chat, but just to be a little shit, he’ll talk to them on some Dora type of nonsense. They eat it up cause they don’t know what Dora is. They’re just happy they get to interact with the stream.
A great example of this was when Billy got kidnapped by Sivana for the 50 million time. He got out of his binds, transformed into Marvel, busted through the doors and knocked out some guards. He was then met with a decision. He could either go left or right. Right lead somewhere unknown, and left lead to an exit. Time to consult the chat!
Marvel: *talking in Dora/Amanda the Adventure voice* “Hmm… What do you think?” *Turns to a random direction as if he’s talking to someone* “Should we go left or right?”
Solomon: “I believe it would be wise to go left, Billy-”
Heracles and Achilles: “RIIIIIIIIIIIGHT!”
Atlas: “No, stupidheads. That’s probably gonna lead him to robots.”
Mercury: “That’s exactly why we should go.”
Zeus: “I agree with Hermes.” *just wants to spite Atlas*
Marvel: “The votes are in! It looks like we’re going… right!” *starts walking right*
He in fact did run into a bunch of robots. But hey, at least he found Sivana. Back to jail he goes.
Also, someone recovered this footage from a security camera and they saw Marvel ask the question and just stand still in complete silence for a solid minute before saying the thing about the votes. They posted this online and he got called a schizo like twenty times over. Marvel was later brought in so Black Canary could have a little session with him.
Marvel: “Ms. Canary, I’m not crazy I swear.”
Black Canary: “Cap, I’m not saying that, but well, this footage suggests that you might have some… problems.”
Marvel: “But I don’t. Pinky promise. I was just talking to the gods in my head. That’s it.”
Black Canary: “Mhm. Mhm. I see. I see.” *scribbles down on notepad*
Marvel: *concerned* “What’re you writing down?”
Then, there was another incident where some guy tried robbing an old, homeless man that Billy knew. Marvel took him up to a building and let him dangle by his leg off the side of it. What could he say, the old man gave him a buck anytime he could. Billy’s loyal like that.
Marvel: *does the Dora/Amanda voice again* “Hmm… It seems we’re stuck with a decision.”
Heracles: “He’s doing the voice! He’s doing the voice!”
Marvel: “What do you think we should do?” *turns to no one again* “Should we drop him?”
Robber: “WHAT?” *stops flailing around*
Marvel: “Or should we turn him into the police?”
Zeus: “DROP HIM.”
Solomon: “Do NOT do that, Billy.”
Atlas: “I agree, drop him.”
Achilles: “Drop.”
Mercury: “Ooh! Ooh! Drop him, then catch him just when he’s about to hit the ground.”
Heracles: “I second that.”
Marvel: “Just kidding! This isn’t up for vote. Alley-oop!” *slings robber over his shoulder and flies to a police station*
Gods: “BOOOOOOOOOO”
The police report for this got leaked and now the residents of Fawcett got to know their lovable teddy bear hero dangled a man off the side of a building. Also, this is a recent thing by the way. Billy only started doing this about a couple weeks ago so all of the Fawcett citizens are so concerned because he never used to do this before. They’re all like, oh my God, is Cap going crazy? Point is, they’re worried.
One of their ways of showing they care that’s still fresh on Billy’s mind is when he was taking a dealer to the police station and the man offered him some of his stash because and he quotes:
Dealer: “Hey, man, you saved my kid brother from getting kidnapped. You’re good in my book. You gotta help people out especially if they help you.”
This stunned Billy a little if he was honest. He didn’t know if he should’ve been touched or offended. He was offered drugs, but I was as a token of appreciation. He’ll go with a little bit of both instead.
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theostrophywife · 6 months ago
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curiosity killed the cat.
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pairing: regulus black x reader.
song inspiration: late night talking by harry styles.
author's note: i've been in such a writing rut lately, but sweet baby boy reggie is singlehandedly bringing me out of it. this idea has been floating in my mind for a while so I hope you all enjoy it. <3
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Curiosity killed the cat.
The irony of the phrase wasn’t entirely lost on Regulus as he cautiously peered through the bustling kitchen. The elves were cleaning up after supper, humming and working diligently to keep the castle in order behind the scenes. Some of them leaned down to reach for him with soapy fingers, but he narrowly avoided each attempt, baring his teeth in warning. 
They would not deter him from his true mission to infiltrate the basement. Having explored all the nooks and crannies Hogwarts had to offer, the Hufflepuff common room was his Atlantis—the last unexplored territory that he had yet to set foot in. 
In his current state, it was perhaps more accurate to say that Regulus had never set paw in this corner of the castle. Most of the time, he found his spontaneous transformations terribly inconvenient, but as Regulus slipped past the door without a trace, the youngest Black brother was suddenly grateful for his complete lack of mastery over his Animagus form. 
To be fair, he was only trying to find some peace and quiet. As of late, Regulus had become particularly fond of the kitchens. It was always warm down here and the smell of freshly baked bread wafted from the ovens and beckoned him towards its glorious scent like a beacon. Not to mention the fact that the elves often left a bowl of cold milk for him every night. 
Well, he supposed it wasn’t exactly for him. At least, not his true human form. The elves were not fond of Regulus the person, but they did adore the feral black cat that haunted the halls of Hogwarts. 
Potato, potato. 
The point is, that his benevolent caretakers were typically careful about securing the ever mysterious door at the end of his little haven. Lest he get his wily little paws all over those timid badgers. Much to his delight, the security measure was not in place tonight. The door was wide open, presenting Regulus with an offer that was simply too good to pass up. 
With a shimmy, he slinked behind enemy lines. Despite being located in the lower levels of the castle like the dungeons were, the Hufflepuff common room was far more welcoming. Instead of gothic furnishings and depressing color palettes, Regulus was greeted with warm earth tones and mismatched furniture. Plants of all shapes and sizes littered the room, which were far more pleasant to look upon than the haughty portraits that lined his own common room. At least the mimbulus in the corner didn’t sputter out rather unnecessary comments about the length of his curls every time he entered the dungeons. 
The Hufflepuffs seemed averse to the menacing lighting that his fellow serpents seemed so fond of, choosing instead to illuminate their space with enchanted sun lamps. It was charming and cozy, if one were to take notice of such things. Malfoy would have deemed it greenhouse chic with a sneer that conveyed aristocratic distaste. For that reason alone, Regulus decided he liked the place. 
The growing fondness was solidified as he followed the intoxicating scent of banana nut muffins. The trail led him to a dorm tucked away into the heart of the basement. Luckily for Regulus, the door was slightly ajar, which was more than enough permission for him to venture inside and make himself comfortable. It was the standard issue room—two beds, two desks, and two dressers. Yet the right side drew his attention. 
The top of the nightstand was brimming with books, all stacked in no particular order. The color scheme of the blankets and pillows consisted of golds, pinks, and oranges, reminding Regulus of the sunset. Fairy lights and enchanted plants provided a lived in feel, which was more than he could say for his obsessively neat dorm with its alphabetically arranged library and utilitarian furniture. Everything in his room was designed with practicality instead of comfort in mind. A choice he was rather proud of until the stark contrast made his space feel cold and rigid in comparison.
The reading nook nestled beside the hearth drew him in like a moth to a flame. Regulus inspected the cloud chair, stomping on the soft woven blanket and plush pillows with his paw before coming to the conclusion that it was as good a place as any to burrow. 
This was the life, he said. Or purred, if he was being technical. 
As Regulus enjoyed the comforts of his newfound paradise, he failed to consider the fact that this dorm belonged to someone and that someone would likely be back any second to reclaim their refuge, given the late hour. Engrossed as he was with licking his paws, Regulus startled when the door swung open. Instantly, he recognized the owner of the dorm as the shy and quiet Hufflepuff that sat beside him in Charms. Regulus lifted a paw to his furry head, feeling foolish that he had not connected the dots earlier. 
No wonder the banana muffin scent drew him in. Every now and then, he caught a whiff of it in class when you quietly claimed the spot beside him. The colorful scrunchies on the dresser also sparked his memory. How many times had Regulus witnessed you twisting the hair tie around your wrist as you quietly murmured the correct answers to Professor Flitwick’s questions under your breath? It never made much sense to him that you would allow the others to blatter and stutter through topics you were clearly an expert on, but Regulus attributed that to his proximity to pompous know-it-all pricks all his life. Slytherins were known to be showoffs, but you seemed to be the complete opposite. 
Perhaps that was the reason why he stayed. Well, that and the fact that he was currently too comfortable to even dream of leaving his sanctuary. Really, the decision was made for him. Regulus watched as you settled into your desk, studying diligently as your quill flew across the parchment. Every so often, you leaned back against the chair and stared at whatever problem eluded you as though intimidating the parchment would bring forth the correct answer. It was rather endearing. Dare he say, charming. 
In his mind, only minutes had passed since the start of your silent companionship, but a glance at the clock said otherwise. It was nearly midnight at this rate. As Regulus grumbled about his inevitable separation from the comfy cloud couch, a group of girls spilled into the room. They briefly said hello to you before gathering at the vanity table on the left side of the room. Regulus assumed one of them was your roommate. Probably the dark haired girl chattering on about the party the Gryffindors were hosting tonight. 
“Do you think Cormac will be there?” she asked hopefully. 
The other girls nodded in agreement, asking questions about the older boy with misplaced  enthusiasm. Regulus wrinkled his nose. McLaggen, really? Your roommate truly needed to raise her standards. He glanced over in your direction, snorting as he caught the tail end of your grimace. Clearly, you weren’t a fan either. 
After the girls were satisfied with their appearances, your roommate sauntered over to your desk with a friendly smile. “Would you like to come to the party with us, Y/N?” 
Before you could answer, one of the other girls rudely interrupted. “Oh no, Y/N doesn’t go to parties. She’s too shy.” 
Regulus vaguely recognized the annoyingly nasally tone of the speaker. He thought her name was Brandy or Brenda. Whichever one it was, she always hung around the quidditch team batting her eyelashes and laughing in an exaggerated way that bordered on deranged. It deeply irritated Regulus. 
“Isn’t that right, Y/N? Our little bookworm only prefers the company of her novels. No chance of embarrassing yourself in front of boys when they’re just words on paper.” 
“That’s mean, Britt,” scolded your roommate. 
Regulus very much wanted to scamper across the room and bite Britt’s ankles. He lifted his head up as you stood, mentally encouraging you to even the score by chucking a tome at that horrid girl’s head, but instead you simply smoothed down the front of your gingham dress and smiled. 
“Thanks for the offer, Mina, but I think I’ll stay in tonight. You girls have fun though.” 
The others were more than happy to flee the awkward tension in the room. You bid them goodbye at the door before closing it behind you. As it clicked into place, you released a sigh. Regulus tracked your movements as you swiped a book from the teetering tower on your nightstand before collapsing into bed. 
“God, what’s wrong with me?” You whispered softly to yourself. “It’s Friday night. I should be going out and partying, but instead I’m wallowing alone. No wonder everyone thinks I’m just a boring bookworm.”
Regulus voiced his disagreement. Unfortunately for him, the words came out as a series of meows. He blended in amongst the blankets, his whiskers barely peeking out from a distance. Unaware of his presence, you yelped at the strange cat peering at you from the reading nook. The noise startled Regulus, causing him to launch across the room and into the bed. 
“Oh, it’s just you.” You sat upright, cocking your head at him. Your fingers twitched at your side, probably itching to pet him. You restrained yourself, respecting his general aversion to humans. “If you’re here to bring me bad luck, then I’m sorry to say that I’ve got enough of that on my own already.” 
In protest, Regulus attempted to headbutt your hand, but it only resulted in an unintentional nuzzle. You chuckled in amusement before carefully patting his furry head. He dodged your hand and swiped at your leg, but the padding motions quickly turned to him just making biscuits on your thigh. 
You chuckled in response. “Hm, everyone says you’re a mean kitty, but I think you’re just a little misunderstood.” Regulus huffed, but his displeasure was short lived as you scratched under his chin. He was only slightly embarrassed at how eager he was to receive more. “Look at us, we make quite the pair.” 
At that, Regulus purred in agreement.
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From that night forward, Regulus became a frequent visitor. He hadn’t intended on making a habit of it, but every time Regulus accidentally transformed, he found himself in your dorm. It wasn’t his fault that it was warm and toasty and smelled like pastries. If you weren’t trying to attract a feral cat, you shouldn’t have made your room so inviting. 
During one of his visits, your roommate walked by and yelped at the sight of him. Regulus lifted his chin up in challenge as he claimed his rightful seat on your lap. “Is that the feral cat that almost took off Cedric’s fingers?” 
Regulus purred in answer. He was rather proud of that moment. Would’ve gotten away with it too had it not been for Diggory’s quick reflexes. 
You barely looked up from your book as you combed through his fur. “Mhm. He likes to follow me around sometimes. He’s like my little shadow.” A bright smile curved against your lips. “Oh, I think we found you a name. Shadow.” 
From then on, Regulus wore the name like a badge. The name seemed to awaken more of his animal instincts because his spontaneous transformations became a rather frequent occurrence. At the beginning, they were isolated to nights and thus easier to manage, but now his Animagus form seemed to have no respect for convenience. As of late, the transformations were happening more and more often with absolutely no rhyme or reason. 
The only common denominator seemed to be you. Every time Regulus was in his Animagus form, he sought you out. Whether he was interrupting Potions class to jump in your lap or resting next to you in the courtyard while you read, Regulus was resigned to the fact that he would end up in your proximity one way or another. He basked in the attention you showered him with, shamelessly nuzzling against your hand for more chin scratches and cuddles. It became a routine for the two of you. Most nights, you read in silence as he curled against you for warmth, but other nights, your inner monologue spilled out and he listened to you grapple with your shyness and anxiety. 
Funny, you didn’t seem all that reserved around him. But then again he had taken on the form of a grumpy yet harmless cat. You were none the wiser that Regulus Black was currently purring for more pets as you lamented over the events of the day. He listened intently, not quite understanding your desire to become more sociable. You seemed to view it as a deficiency, but Regulus had always leaned towards the extremities of introvertedness. Though in his case, no one batted an eye when he was abrupt and abrasive. It was just how he was. 
Hufflepuffs, on the other hand, were expected to be sunshine and butterflies. You were, Regulus thought. In your own quiet way, you radiated joy. It wasn’t loud or obnoxious or overbearing. It was just right. Regulus longed to tell you just as much, but it wasn’t like he was in a position to. Outside these late night talks, the two of you hardly spoke a word to one another. 
Perhaps it was time to change that. 
The first time Regulus tried to speak to you was a complete and utter disaster. 
It was bright and early on a Monday morning. You slipped into your seat a few minutes before the start of Charms. The two of you were always the first ones in class, so he figured it was an opportune time to strike up a conversation without overwhelming you. 
“How was your weekend?” 
You blinked up at him, surveying the room covertly as though you weren’t quite sure that he was speaking to you. Regulus watched you flush as you realized that he was indeed addressing the question to you.
“It was good,” you responded cautiously. “How was yours?” 
Regulus paused. “It was…fine.” 
Never in his life had he wanted to swan dive into the Black Lake and become fodder for the merpeople. The response was a natural conversation killer, but he couldn’t very well tell you that he spent the entire weekend lounging in your dorm as you read Pride and Prejudice for the umpteenth time. That little revelation probably would’ve resulted in a restraining order. 
The short and awkward dialogue made him cringe internally, but you simply smiled politely at him. For Salazar’s sake, where was the basilisk when Regulus needed it?
When lunch came around, he was still pondering the less than lackluster encounter. Regulus needed to find a way in. As his friends chattered and chatted, he stared intently across the Great Hall and watched you. Things were so much easier when you thought he was a cat. 
“Reg, mate, you haven’t blinked for like five minutes. You’re really starting to freak me out.” 
The annoying little quip from Nott brought Regulus out of his stupor. Had he truly been staring for that long? He hoped to Godric that you hadn’t caught him being an utter creep. A sly glance told him that you were none the wiser as you continued chatting with Luna Lovegood and Ginny Weasley. He turned to Theodore and frowned. 
“What are you staring at, anyways?” asked Mattheo. The curly headed git surveyed the room for the object of his friend’s focus, which only made Regulus more irate. 
“Nothing,” Regulus mumbled. 
Riddle, ever the menace, grinned as he spotted you. “Doesn’t look like nothing to me.” 
He elbowed Theo, who smirked once he too caught sight of you. “Say, Reggie, don’t you have Charms with that cute little Hufflepuff?” 
“Shut it, Nott.” 
“Whoa, a little touchy there, aren’t we? No need to fret. I won’t turn my Italian charms on her. After all, I wouldn’t dare go after one of my mate’s crushes.” 
Regulus bristled. “I do not have a crush.” 
“Sure, mate, and I’m Harry bloody Potter,” scoffed Mattheo. “You’re not fooling anyone, you know.” 
“Does this conversation have a purpose besides showcasing your remarkable skill of grating my nerves?” 
“Aw, Reggie’s upset.” Mattheo and Theodore chuckled as Regulus stood abruptly. He flung the napkin onto his plate and walked off without explanation. “Don’t worry, mate. We won’t tell anyone about your secret girlfriend.”
Unfortunately for Regulus, the childish teasing gained traction over the next few days. Trust Nott and Riddle to be a general nuisance to his everyday life. Every time you walked past Regulus in the halls, his friends (debatable as of late) would nudge him and smirk. Given that Mattheo and Theo possessed the subtlety of a bull in a china shop, you were definitely beginning to notice. 
Even worse, Lorenzo had taken it upon himself to chat you up in the courtyard. Regulus looked on in horror as his best friend laughed and gesticulated alongside you on the bench. His presence had not gone unnoticed by their fellow classmates. A crowd of Hufflepuffs began crowding near your usual spot under the willow tree and Regulus could easily spot the tell-tale signs of your anxiety blooming. He needed to put an end to this. 
“Berkshire, can I talk to you for a second?” 
Lorenzo appeared completely unbothered as he nodded. “Sure, just let me wrap up here. Reg, you’ve met Y/N, right? She was kind enough to lend me notes for History of Magic.” 
You looked up and gave Regulus a shy wave. The desire to throttle Lorenzo diminished by a few notches. “Sorry about him. Berkshire’s a bit overeager. Not fully trained, you see.” 
His friend protested the accusation. “Hey, I’m standing right here!” 
Regulus ignored his protests. Lorenzo might as well have been halfway across the world with how little attention he paid to his friend. He was far too busy being enamored with the way you tried to bite back a grin.
“Thank you for indulging him. I’ll make sure he doesn’t go off leash again.” 
You chuckled. “It’s alright, really. I’ve got a habit of attracting strays.” 
“Where is that little monster of yours, anyways? Busy clawing off some unsuspecting student’s face?” Lorenzo quipped. 
“Shadow isn’t so bad. He’s actually very sweet, once you get to know him.”
Regulus tried not to grin. 
Lorenzo shot him a knowing look. “Sounds like someone else I know.” 
Regulus rolled his eyes. “Sorry again about him. I’ll make sure he returns your notes.” He tugged Lorenzo by the collar. “Now let’s go, Berkshire. We’re going to be late for practice.” 
“Bye, Y/N!” Lorenzo called over his shoulder. “Don’t be a stranger.” 
“Bye, Lorenzo,” you said with an amused smile. “I’ll see you in class, Regulus.” 
Regulus couldn’t help but smile. “See you in class, Y/N.” 
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Thanks to his meddlesome friends, Regulus kept finding himself in less than ideal situations. The twats seemed determined to force you two together. Lorenzo, most of all. 
Every time they studied in the library, you seemed to conveniently be seated a few desks away. Every time they were walking back from quidditch practice, you coincidentally seemed to be headed to the greenhouse. Every time Lorenzo fetched something in his locker, you just so happened to be walking by between classes. 
It was during one of these times that Regulus overheard Britt making snippy little comments about your dresses and bows, commenting on how you were always lost in your books, even citing the fact that the feral cat had taken a liking to you because birds of a feather flock together. Your roommate defended you, but she was a lone voice amongst the other mindless girls who laughed along with Britt. The next time Regulus ran into her in his cat form, he made sure to hiss and claw at her. 
In terms of finding his way in, Regulus had yet to crack the code. When it was just you and your Shadow, you spoke to him for hours and hours. But when he was actually himself, you were so quiet and reserved. 
“Why don’t you just talk to her?” Lorenzo offered. 
The glare Regulus cut his way was sharper than a splicing spell. “I’ve tried, but I’m terrible at it. I asked her about the weather, Enzo. The bloody weather!” 
To his credit, Lorenzo didn’t laugh. Instead, he seemed deep in thought. “You’ve got to find out what she’s passionate about. What’s something that she could talk about for hours and hours?” 
Regulus bolted out of his chair, startling Lorenzo. “You’re a genius, Berkshire.” 
His friend looked utterly confused. “Thanks, I suppose?” 
Half an hour later, Regulus found himself standing in a labyrinth. Plot Twist, the largest bookstore in the village, was as magical as you described it to be. Each aisle was filled to the brim with books, the shelves winding and twisting in on itself to reveal even more volumes. Soft classical music played throughout the shop, its interior filled with kitschy trinkets and illuminated by enchanted candles.
If Regulus recalled correctly, the latest installment of your favorite series just recently released. You mentioned it to Ginny in the Great Hall last week while he lounged on your lap. Was it ethical to eavesdrop on your conversations and use the information he gleaned to grow closer to you? Perhaps not, but he couldn’t help it. Cunning was in his nature. There was a reason Regulus was sorted into Slytherin, after all.
So here he was on a Friday afternoon, looking absolutely engrossed in the romance section of the bookstore. Regulus picked up a novel from the display. One of your favorites, of course. 
From the corner of his eye, Regulus glimpsed your entrance into the store. Naturally, you were headed in his direction since romance was your preferred guilty pleasure. He pretended to skim through the summary despite the fact that he already read the book in its entirety. When you were reading it back in your dorm, you blushed so much that he had to see what the fuss was about for himself. 
“Oh, that’s a really good one,” you said shyly. 
“Yeah?” Regulus asked, noting the pretty flush dusting your cheeks. “Have you read it before?” 
“About a thousand times.” 
“What’s the verdict, then? Would you recommend it to me?” 
You cocked your head in observation, taking him in. Regulus was acutely aware that he didn’t fit the usual demographic of romance novel readers. Hell, even his all black ensemble clashed with the vibrant book covers. 
“I know, I know. I have the looks of someone who would rather binge murder mysteries, but I’m trying to branch out.” 
The grin you gave him made his heart stutter. “Well, I’d be more than happy to be your guide.” 
Regulus had no idea why he hadn’t realized it sooner. Books—that was the gateway to your heart. He listened in fascination as you pulled books from the shelves, talking a mile a minute about your favorite authors, characters, and tropes. You lit up the entire room as you spoke, filling the place with your infectious energy. He had only ever seen you this way in the comfort of your own dorm, so he relished in the fact that he was witnessing this not as Shadow but as Regulus. 
“Oh my god, I’ve been rambling. I’m so sorry. Once I start, I just can’t seem to stop.” 
He smiled softly. Regulus could have listened to you talk about books for the rest of his life and never grow bored. “I don’t want you to stop. I like that you’re so passionate. It’s adorable.” 
Suddenly, Regulus wished he had a camera because the sight of you smiling up at him was a memory that needed to be captured and immortalized. For now, he settled for its dizzying aftereffects. 
“Thank you for letting me talk your ear off,” you said shyly as the two of you made your way to the counter. 
“No, thank you for helping me expand my horizons.” Regulus countered as he set both of your books down. 
You started to fish for your wallet, but Regulus simply waved you off. “Please, let me.” The shopkeeper gaped at him. “Would you mind putting everything on my tab?” 
“Of course, Mr. Black.” 
“Regulus is fine.” 
“Sure thing Mr.—I mean, Regulus.” 
As the shopkeeper carefully packed up the books, Regulus leaned in. “You can call me Reg, if you’d like. Reggie, if you’re feeling particularly brave.” 
You beamed. “Thank you, Reggie.” 
“You’re welcome, Y/N.” 
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The Monday after the breakthrough, Regulus marched into Charms with purpose. You glanced up in amusement as he settled into his seat. 
“You were right. Your recommendations were fantastic. I read it all in one sitting.” 
“Which one?” you asked curiously. 
Back at the bookstore, you had gotten a little overzealous with the recommendations, but at the end, you managed to narrow it down to your absolute top picks. 
“All of them.” 
Your jaw nearly dropped. “You read all of them?” 
Regulus shrugged as if it were no big deal. “Yes.”
“Every single book?” 
“Mhm.”
“But I gave you six recommendations,” you stated incredulously. You considered yourself a voracious reader, but Regulus Black was giving you a run for your money. 
“And I devoured every single one.” 
As it turns out, that was all it took to unlock the floodgates. Soon your conversations flourished from books and literature to hobbies and future plans. Regulus could tell that you were warming up to him. The conversations that were once isolated to the Charms classroom flowed easily outside of it as well.
The first few times you were spotted together, it turned a few heads. 
Regulus had never been particularly known for his sociability, so he supposed it was a rather strange sight for everyone else to find him practically glued to your side. Never mind that he’d done it a hundred times before as your Shadow and no one ever said a word about it back then. As he spotted you in your usual spot under the willow tree, he found that he really didn’t give a damn what anyone else thought of your newfound friendship. 
“Is this seat taken?” 
You nodded as you moved your belongings to make room for him. “Yes, by you.” 
Regulus dropped his backpack by his feet before stretching his long legs out on the wooden bench. You watched in amusement as the wood creaked under his weight. “I prefer to be horizontal when I read. You don’t mind, do you?” 
“Knock yourself out, Mr. Black.”
“That’s Regulus to you, love.” 
“I thought it was Reg.” 
“Actually, I prefer Reggie. But only if it’s being used by you.” 
“Okay, Reggie.” 
He couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the corner of his lips. 
Despite spending time with you during the day, Regulus still made his visits in the night. He truly just couldn’t get enough. Thanks to his questionable methods, you were starting to open up to him more. Just that morning, the two of you ate breakfast together in the Great Hall. You teased him for eating such a bland meal. 
“Honestly, Regulus. We attend a magical school. You could ask for anything your little heart desires and you choose to eat gruel?” 
“It’s not gruel. It’s oatmeal.” 
“My point exactly.” 
“What’s wrong with oatmeal?” 
“Nothing, I suppose. If you prefer eating cement for breakfast.” 
“You’re awfully judgmental. Let’s take a closer look at your choices. A chocolate chip muffin? You might as well swallow a spoonful of sugar and call it a day.” 
“My apologies, Mr. Black. I forgot that you abhor flavor. Shall we share your cement goop, then?” 
“After you insulted my culinary preferences? I think not, Y/N.” 
Needless to say, the two of you got along like a house on fire. Both of your friends constantly teased you about the newfound friendship. Regulus simply rolled his eyes and brushed off the comments, but even his mates noticed the way he smiled every time you were mentioned. You knew your friends were bursting at the seams with questions regarding Regulus, but to their credit, Ginny and Luna were happy seeing you happy. 
Not everyone shared their enthusiasm though. Britt, in particular, was rather cross. It made no sense that someone like you would catch the attention of Regulus Black. She had harbored a crush on the youngest Black since third year and he could barely even spare her a glance, yet here you were receiving his full and undivided attention. Britt was seething with jealousy. She simply could not accept losing to you, of all people. 
Perhaps you dosed Regulus with a love potion. Perhaps he pitied you, viewed you as some wounded animal to save. Either way, Britt was convinced that Regulus wasn’t meant to be with someone like you. A shy and quiet girl who could never hope to hold his attention for long. She just had to make Regulus see it. The perfect opportunity presented itself one Friday afternoon.
In the crowded hall, Regulus shielded you from the incoming traffic of students rushing to their next class. It wasn’t much of an effort on his part since your fellow classmates cowered and parted as soon as they caught sight of your companion’s scowl.
“Reggie, could you try not to scare the first years away?” You teased, bumping your hip against his. “Poor Anderson looked ready to cry when you glared at him.” 
Regulus bumped you back. “He nearly stepped on your foot.” 
“Did that really warrant you threatening to hide bullfrogs underneath his pillows?” 
“You’re right, I’ve gone soft. I should’ve threatened him with fire serpents instead.” 
“You’re hopeless, Regulus.” 
Regulus placed a hand over his heart, feigning hurt. “You wound me, ma chérie.” 
The nickname made you flush. Regulus had never been more thankful that French was his native tongue. The language of love certainly had its effect on you. 
“However will you live?” 
“I’ll tell you what, if you come keep me company tonight, then all will be forgiven.” 
“I’m not helping you sneak bullfrogs into Anderson’s dorm.” 
He pouted in response. “Fine. I suppose we can have a quiet night in. Come join the dark side. We can read together in the common room.” 
“The dungeons?” You asked apprehensively. 
Though you’ve gotten used to the occasional Slytherin greeting you in the halls, the whole lot of them still terrified you. You weren’t quite sure how you felt about marching right into the serpent’s nest. 
“It’ll just be us,” Regulus added softly. “I’ll make sure of it.” 
The way he eased your worries was endearing. You bumped his hip again. “You can’t just kick people out of their own common room.”
“I’m Regulus Black,” he said haughtily. “Of course I can.” Regulus draped an arm over your shoulder and leaned in to whisper conspiratorially. “Come on, I know you’re dying to read that new novel you bought last weekend.” 
You rolled your eyes affectionately. He knew you too well. “You mean, the novel that you bought me. Against my will, thank you very much. I will pay you back.” Regulus started protesting, but you only held your hand up. “You’re right, though. I’m convinced. I’ll bring the snacks. Chocolate frogs for me and a bowl of gruel for you.” 
You yelped as Regulus dug his fingers into your side. “It’s a date, love.” 
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Regulus paced back and forth, watching the door to the dungeons. To say he was nervous would’ve been an understatement. 
As soon as classes were dismissed for the day, Regulus wasted no time. He raced back to the common room and made sure everything was perfect. The boys were taking the piss out of him, but he paid no mind to them as he fluffed the pillows and draped a blanket over the couch. 
“Ooh, what type of candle is this?” Theo asked as he wrapped his grimy little fingers around the banana nut muffin scented candle. 
Regulus smacked his friend’s hand away. “Don’t touch that.” 
Mattheo snickered as he took in the scene before him. “You must really like this girl, Reg. I don’t think I’ve ever put in this much effort for a date.” 
“Yeah, and how’s that working out for you?” Regulus snipped. Blaise and Pansy snorted in response. 
Lorenzo bit back a smile. “I think it’s nice. Y/N will love it.” 
“You think so?” Regulus asked absentmindedly. He wanted to make sure everything was perfect. The dungeons were a far cry from your dorm, but Regulus did his best to emulate the comfort it provided. “It’s not too much?” 
“It’s a bit…cozy for my taste,” said Draco. Regulus fought the urge to throttle his cousin. To be fair, Draco hated anything that wasn’t French or expensive. “But I’m sure your girl will love it.” 
“She’s not my girl,” Regulus corrected. “Not yet, at least.” 
Tom shot a disinterested glance at him from the couch. “What on earth are you waiting for? You’ve been pining over her for months. Your yearning is starting to sicken me.” 
Mattheo grimaced. “I think that’s Tom’s way of encouraging you to make a move.” 
“Consider me encouraged,” Regulus said with an eye roll. “Now everyone get out.” 
As his friends filtered out, Lorenzo patted him on the back. “Good luck, mate.” 
Luck had nothing to do with it. Regulus refused to take his chances on such a finicky thing. He was far too resourceful to leave things up to chance. Instead, he compiled everything he’s learned about you to ensure that you wouldn’t feel overwhelmed. 
At exactly six o’clock on the dot, Regulus opened the door to the dungeons. He smiled when he found you standing in the corridor, fidgeting with the hem of your sunflower dress. You clutched your book to your chest as he stepped through the threshold. 
“Hi, Reg,” you greeted shyly. 
“Hi, love.” Regulus offered his arm, which you gladly took. “Come on in.” 
You weren’t sure what to expect at first, but you found the dungeons to be quite cozy. The waves from the Black Lake gently lapped against the stained glass windows, the murky waters shimmering across the onyx floors. The furnishings were all dark wood and harsh lines with pops of emerald tying everything together. The velvet couch was piled with pillows and candles illuminated the space, providing a warmth and coziness that you never would’ve attributed to the dungeons. 
“This is quite lovely,” you said softly. 
Regulus took your bag from you and set it gently on the marble side table. “I’m glad you think so.” 
“Where’s everyone else?” 
“Out,” Regulus responded. “If they’re smart, they’ll stay that way.” 
You chuckled. “I guess it pays to be mean and scary.” 
“To everyone else, yes.” Regulus said as he guided you over to the couch. “Not to you, though.”
The sentiment made you smile. “Well, big scary Reggie, thank you for inviting me over. As promised, I came bearing snacks.” 
As you laid out a treasure trove of treats, Regulus watched with an amused smile. “For Salazar’s sake, I’m getting a cavity just looking at all of this candy.” 
You grinned as you waved a sour gummy worm in the air. “But it’s good, though.” Regulus backed away from the neon colored candy with a grimace. “Come on, Reg. Try it.” 
“No, thank you.” 
“Please,” you pleaded, poking his cheek with the worm. “Just one little nibble. I know you want to.” 
“You’re a terrible influence,” he sighed defeatedly. 
Regulus leaned over, his lips brushing against your fingers as he took a small bite. You flushed furiously, heat prickling your skin as his emerald gaze pierced through you. From this close, you could make out the golden flecks swimming in his irises. 
“It’s a bit sweet,” Regulus murmured. His eyes never left yours as he held your wrist in place, devouring what was left of the sour worm. “But I’ve grown an appetite for sweet things lately.” 
Regulus licked flecks of sugar off of his lips, smirking when he caught you staring. You cleared your throat, eager to diffuse whatever tension was brewing between you. He tracked your movements as you retrieved your book and daintily perched yourself on the couch. 
“Shall we?” 
A comfortable silence befell the common room, broken only by the lulling crash of the waves against the windows. It baffled you how at ease you were in the dungeons. Usually, it took a bit of time for you to adjust to new environments, but something about this place seemed familiar. You felt safe here, thanks to the boy sitting beside you. 
As you curled up on the sofa, Regulus assumed his position. He scooted towards you, placing his head on your lap and stretching his long legs out until they touched the other end of the couch. With a smile, you peered at him as he nuzzled against your free hand. Regulus sighed in satisfaction when you ran your fingers through his curls. The action reminded you of your little Shadow. 
You had no idea how you hadn’t realized it sooner, but the two of them were similar in a lot of ways. They were both standoffish and prickly on the outside, but complete softies on the inside. The thought made you chuckle. 
“What’s so funny?” Regulus murmured. Despite the fact that the two of you were supposed to be reading, his book remained perched on his stomach while his eyes fluttered close. 
“It’s just hard to reconcile grumpy Regulus to the Regulus that practically begs for his head to be scratched.”
Regulus scoffed. “I do not beg.” 
You placed your hand back in your lap. Regulus furrowed his brows as he glanced up at you. With a soft nudge to your side and a matching pout to boot, he single handedly proved your point. “Why’d you stop?” 
The pointed look you gave him made Regulus flush. “Fine, I suppose I’m not above begging.” 
You raised a brow, which only made him sigh in defeat. Regulus lifted your hand and placed it back atop his curls. “Please?” 
“Only because you asked nicely, Reggie.” 
The rest of the evening was blissfully peaceful as the two of you continued reading. Well, you were reading. Regulus, on the other hand, hadn’t even cracked open his book. You could feel the intensity of his gaze boring into you while you pretended to be engrossed in your novel. 
“Do I have something on my face?” You asked self-consciously. 
“No.” 
“Then why are you staring?” 
Regulus sat upright and faced you, his emerald eyes locking onto yours. His expression was soft as he tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear, knuckles brushing along your jaw. 
“Because you’re beautiful.” 
The air left your lungs as Regulus beheld you. The calluses on his thumb stroked your skin as he caressed your cheek. You shivered at his touch, at his scent, at his closeness. Regulus was like poetry come to life. A work of art that moved and breathed and mesmerized everyone around him. If anyone was beautiful, it was him. 
“Reggie…” 
The words died in your throat when Regulus brushed his thumb over your lips. “Y/N…” 
Little by little, the gap closed between you. Anticipation swelled in the room, enveloping everything with unspoken tension. You felt like a harp string pulled taut, waiting for release. Just as Regulus tilted your head back, a loud smack echoed through the dungeons. 
You nearly jumped out of your seat, but Regulus shielded you behind him, keeping you close. A stream of people made their way through the common room, trampling the once serene atmosphere. The commotion from earlier seemed to be coming from the large keg that Adrian Pucey was now rolling across the stone floor. The other Slythering began clearing the furniture, chattering excitedly amongst themselves. 
Regulus was incensed. “What the fuck is going on?” 
One by one, his friends streamed in. Blaise was the first to squeeze through the crowd. “Common room party, apparently. We ran here to warn you, but they were already rolling the kegs through the corridor before we caught up.” 
Theodore and Mattheo pushed their way through a couple of fourth years. At their complaint, the two boys glared at them so intensely that they slowly started to back away. 
“The fuck are you looking at?” Mattheo barked. 
“Are you deaf or just thick? Get fucking lost, mate,” Theo added menacingly. 
You flinched at the display of aggression. Regulus clocked the reaction and pulled you closer before frowning at his friends. Theodore elbowed Mattheo when he caught sight of you, who in turn elbowed Theodore back. 
“Sorry about that, Y/N.” Theodore drawled, his Italian accent seeping through the words. “We didn’t see you there. Usually, we’re more well-behaved in the presence of a lady.” 
“That’s a lie,” Pansy interjected. “You’re horrid around me all the time.” 
“I’ve known you since we were in diapers, Pans. You’re certainly not a lady,” Theodore quipped. 
“Why, you little twat—” 
“Guys,” Regulus scolded. 
Pansy stopped in her tracks, sighing as she put her hand down after landing a smack on the back of Theodore’s head. She offered her hand. “Right. Well, this isn’t how we thought our first introduction would go, but it’s nice to finally meet the infamous Y/N. Regulus talks about you all the time.” 
You flushed as you took Pansy’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you too, Pansy.” 
“Me next,” Theodore exclaimed. “Theodore Nott, at your service.” 
The floppy haired boy bowed cheekily before taking your hand in his and kissing your knuckles. Regulus glared daggers at his friend, but you merely giggled in amusement. 
“Move, Nott. It’s my turn now.” Mattheo smacked Theodore away and enveloped you into a hug. “Mattheo, the most handsome Riddle. Although don’t tell my brother that. He might hex me. Anyways, nice to meet you." He paused, sniffing your hair unabashedly. "Oh! Reg is right. You do smell nice.” 
“Riddle,” warned Regulus.
Mattheo only winked at you before stepping aside. You exchanged introductions with Blaise and Draco next until Lorenzo caught up with the rest of the group. He gave you a warm hug before explaining that someone had printed out posters promoting a party that none of the Slytherins had any clue about. Of course, it didn’t take much convincing on his housemates' part before they jumped on the bandwagon, hence the packed common room. 
“I’m so sorry,” Regulus said as he turned over to face you. “ I didn’t know any of this was happening.”
Worry marred his beautiful face. Though the situation was a little more than overwhelming, you didn’t want Regulus worrying on your behalf. It was touching, truly. But you could try to push through it. 
“It’s okay, Reg. I’m fine, really.” 
“We can leave,” he offered. “Find somewhere more quiet.” 
“Already?” Mattheo asked, pouting. “But we haven’t even played butterbeer pong yet! Dibs on Y/N as my partner.” 
“No fair! I was going to ask her,” Theodore said, shoving Mattheo. His curly headed friend shoved back, which only escalated into Theodore putting him into a headlock. You shook your head in amusement. 
“Sorry to disappoint, but I have no idea how to play butterbeer pong.” 
Mattheo slithered out of Theodore’s hold and beamed. “Oh, it’s easy. You just arrange a bunch of cups into a pyramid and then take turns shooting ping pong balls into them. Surely, you’ve handled balls before, right?” 
The double meaning was not lost on the group. Regulus tensed, charging up to smack Mattheo into next week for the inappropriate joke, but your response stopped him in his tracks. 
“I have,” you said softly. “Have you? Because it doesn’t seem like it from the way you kept missing the goalposts during the game last week.” 
Mattheo gaped in shock before bursting into laughter. “Oh, she’s a keeper.” 
“You’re lucky Y/N found that funny,” Regulus said to his friend. “Otherwise, I would’ve twisted your intestines into a bow for her.” 
“Taking a page out of my brother’s book, I see,” Mattheo taunted. 
“Is this a bad time to ask if you’ve ever had a body shot, Y/N?” Theo asked with feigned innocence. “If not, I’m more than willing to show you.” 
Regulus reeled back and smacked Theo on the head while the rest of the group cackled. Theo rubbed the sore spot and grumbled. “A simple no would have sufficed.” 
The more time you spent around them, the less intimidating they became. From what you gleaned, they seemed to be a tight knit group. It wasn’t at all what you expected from the Slytherins. 
“Your friends are silly,” you whispered to Regulus as the group migrated to the couch. 
In the background, Mattheo and Theodore bickered over who drank the last of the firewhisky while Lorenzo wiped the back of his mouth and burped. He winked when he caught your eye, charging you with keeping his secret. 
“They’re idiots,” Regulus scoffed. His tone was contrasted by the softness in his eyes as he watched his friends muck about. “But they’re family.” 
Throughout the night, you didn’t miss the way that Regulus fussed over you. He was a constant presence by your side, attuned and attentive to every need. When you felt parched, Regulus was there to offer you a drink. When you felt cold, Regulus draped his jacket over you without you needing to ask. He checked in with you often, making sure his obnoxious friends weren’t offending you and ensuring that the attention wasn’t too overwhelming to handle. 
You assured him that you were fine. In fact, you were surprised to realize that you were enjoying yourself. It was a lot easier to deal with your social anxiety when you had someone there to ground you. 
The Slytherins were a rather social bunch. Pansy was thrilled at the prospect of having another girl join the group. Within thirty minutes, she had talked you into going to Hogsmeade with her next weekend. She wanted a break from the boys, she said. But she also made it known that she expected a full rundown of the situation between you and Regulus. 
Draco and Blaise were very clearly eavesdropping, despite their efforts to appear nonchalant. Apparently, everyone was as invested in your pairing as Pansy was. Theodore and Mattheo didn’t even try to hide the fact that they were talking Regulus up. When Mattheo declared that Regulus rescued an injured baby bird and nursed it back to health, you nearly lost it. Regulus hated birds. 
“You’re an idiot,” Regulus exclaimed. 
“No, let him talk. I want to hear all about it. What kind of bird was it, Mattheo?” 
“Uh…the kind with wings?” 
Lorenzo shook his head. “Really, mate? That’s the best you could come up with?” 
The group continued their bantering as you watched in fascination. Their dynamic fascinated you. They bickered like siblings, but you could tell that they would go to the end of the world for one another. You could see why Regulus thought of them as family. 
“Feeling okay?” Regulus asked, nudging you with his hip. 
“Mhm,” you responded, bumping him back. “Thanks for inviting me over.” 
“This isn’t what I had in mind when I did,” Regulus said. “But I’m still glad you came.”
“Of course, I had to see you in your natural habitat. I didn’t know you were such a party animal, Reggie.” 
He grabbed hold of your waist and leaned down to whisper in your ear. “I preferred when the party was just you and me.” 
You flushed, pitching forward to hide your face behind a curtain of hair. “I did, too.” 
“When everyone leaves, I intend on picking up where we left off. You should know that I’m not the type of man who leaves things unfinished, love.” 
There was no hiding the blush that blossomed on your cheeks. Crimson colored your features even as you excused yourself to the bathroom. As you washed your hands in the sink, you studied your reflection. While you would always feel the lingering social anxiety that came from being in large crowds, you thought that tonight was going fairly well. With a smile, you made your return back to the Regulus. 
“I don’t know who you’re fooling, Y/N.” Britt sneered at you as she leaned against the wall, a cigarette held haphazardly between her neon painted fingers. 
You frowned. “What are you talking about, Britt?” 
“Regulus may have fallen for your shy and sweet little act, but he’ll get sick and tired of you dragging him down sooner or later.” 
A lump formed in the pit of your stomach. Though it was no secret that Britt wasn’t exactly a fan of yours, you hadn’t expected her to say such hurtful things. Even worse, she touched a nerve with her words. 
Britt nodded pointedly towards the crowd. “Look at him. He can’t even enjoy himself without worrying about poor, helpless little Y/N.”
Regulus towered over everyone, cutting an imposing figure in the middle of the room. His eyes darted through the crowd, seemingly searching for someone. Perhaps it was the reality of seeing the worry in his features, his half-distracted responses to whatever Lorenzo was saying as he stood stoic, unable to partake in conversation because he was too busy looking for you. Worrying about you. However horrid Britt was, you realized that there was merit to her words. 
The last thing you wanted was to hold Regulus back. You didn’t want him worrying about babysitting you instead of having fun with his friends, which is exactly what he was doing now. The thought made you sad. Sure, Regulus was fine with catering to your needs now, but he was bound to tire of it sooner or later. You didn’t want to find out how long it would take. 
You didn’t want to be a burden to anyone. Most of all, Regulus. 
Without a word, you passed by Britt and weaved your way through the room. You stuck to the alcoves, passing beneath its shadowy refuge until the door came to view. Only a few steps stood between you and your escape when a low, stern voice stopped you in your tracks. 
“Y/N,” said Tom Riddle. “Leaving early, are we?” 
“Oh, hi there Tom,” you mumbled, casting your gaze towards the floor. You were afraid that you’d cry if you stayed in the dungeons a second longer. “M’just not feeling very well.” 
You could feel his observant gaze sweeping over you. “I imagined you wouldn’t after encountering that hag outside of the bathroom.” 
“You saw that?” You asked in a small, defeated voice. 
Finally, you deigned to look up and found Tom staring at you. As always, the eldest Riddle was cold and stoic, but there was something in his gaze that conveyed concern. 
“Yes, and I heard it too.” 
“Please, can you—can you just not tell Reggie?” 
Tom’s expression was imperceptible besides his curt nod. “If that’s what you prefer. I’ll let him know you left early because you weren’t feeling well.” 
“Thank you, Tom.” 
You bid him a good night before reaching for the door. Behind you, Tom cleared his throat. 
“For the record, that hag doesn’t know what she’s talking about. You’re not dragging Regulus down. If anything, you’ve made the twat more tolerable over these past few weeks.” 
Before you could respond, Tom was gone. You barely caught a glimpse of his back as he climbed the stairs that led to the dormitories. The parting surprised you, but you figured that Tom probably just felt bad for witnessing the conversation between you and Britt. 
Casting a last glance towards the common room, you spotted Regulus once again. 
Softly, you whispered, “Bye, Reggie.” 
Once you were back in your dorm, you showered and decided to turn in for the night. It was just a few minutes shy of midnight as you tossed and turned in bed. Your roommate was most likely still at the party, leaving you to ponder your thoughts alone. There was an air of restlessness in the room as you stared up at the ceiling and considered your predicament. 
No matter which way you looked at it, there was only one solution. You had to end your friendship with Regulus. 
The thought filled you with overwhelming sadness. Letting go of Regulus made you feel so isolated and alone, but you knew it was the right thing to do. As though sensing your need for comfort, Shadow slinked through your door and hopped right into your lap. The black cat stared up at you with knowing eyes and meowed. 
“At least I can count on you to always keep me company,” you murmured softly as you scratched under Shadow’s chin. “It’s been a rough night.” 
Shadow bumped his head against your hip, seemingly telling you to stop feeling sorry for yourself. 
“Britt is right, Shadow,” you confessed. “I’m just not the type of girl Regulus should be with.” 
The cat bumped you again, stomping his feet on the bed in frustration. Shadow gave you a rather argumentative meow. 
“Oh, don’t give me that. We both know it’s true. Reggie is Reggie and I’m…well, I’m me.” 
Shadow hissed in response, demanding your attention. You sighed as you pulled the cat into your lap. “It’s a shame,” you whispered against his dark fur. “I really like him.” 
To your surprise, Shadow purred softly and cuddled against your side. Though the feral little cat had taken a liking to you and your dorm, Shadow was always usually gone in the morning. Tonight though, the cat curled up next to you as though it knew that this was what you needed. 
“Good night, Shadow.” 
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Regulus knew it was reckless. 
But after Tom informed him of your sudden illness, suspicion rose in him like a tide. Even if you weren’t feeling well, it wasn’t like you to leave so abruptly, which meant that something was definitely wrong. All of his suspicions were confirmed when he got to your dorm.
It broke his heart to hear you say that you weren’t right for him. How could such a thought even cross your mind? There had never been anyone more perfect to him than you. Didn’t you know that you were the first person Regulus looked for in a room full of people? Couldn’t you tell how head over heels he was for you? His sweet, sassy, shy, sunshine of a Hufflepuff. There was no one better. 
Certainly not Britt. Regulus was well aware of the crush she had on him. At first, he simply ignored it. He had absolutely no interest in someone as foul and loathsome as that girl, but now that she had come after you, Regulus had half a mind to sink his teeth and claws into her ankles until he drew blood. 
At the moment, his plot for revenge was set aside as he focused on comforting you. Up until this point, Regulus had always been careful not to fall asleep in your dorm because he never knew when he was going to switch back, but tonight, he was willing to risk it. He didn’t know if this would be the last time you ever spoke to him given what you confessed earlier. 
Perhaps it was selfish of him, but he didn’t want the night to end. Regulus wasn't ready to face the prospect of you ending things, so he snuggled into your side and fell asleep to the sound of your heartbeat. 
It was a choice that would certainly have its consequences in the morning.
The first thing that woke him up was not the sunlight streaming through your windows or the chirping of the birds, but instead your surprised yelp. Regulus blinked sleepily, rubbing his paw against his snout, but instead bumped his hand into his nose. 
This was not good. 
This was definitely not good. 
You were on the other side of the bed, blankets pulled up over your chin as you stared at him in disbelief. 
“Reggie? What—what are you doing here?” 
Regulus was an idiot. A stupid, careless idiot. 
But none of that mattered now. 
“Don’t end our friendship.” 
You reeled back in surprise. “I—what—what’s even happening—”
“Don’t end our friendship,” Regulus said once more. “Fuck, it’s not even a friendship. You and I both know it’s so much more than that.” 
“I don’t understand.” 
“I’m not going to get bored of you. Never in a million years would I ever get bored of you. In the months that I’ve gotten to know you, not once have I ever stopped feeling drawn in. I want to know everything about you, Y/N. Even though you tell me everything without realizing it, I still want to know more. I want to listen to you talk about your books and hold your hand when you’re overwhelmed and follow you all around the castle like I’ve been doing all along.” 
You were speechless as Regulus continued. “Tom told me that you weren’t feeling well last night. I knew it was a lie, so I had to come and see for myself. I had to make sure you were okay, even if you didn’t know it was me.” He sighed, closing his eyes. “But then you said you wanted to end our friendship and I just—I was selfish. I should’ve gone back to my dorm, but I didn’t know if last night was the last time you’d ever speak to me and I just couldn’t bring myself to leave.” 
Realization dawned over you. Pieces of the puzzle started clicking into place. “You’re—you—you’ve been Shadow this whole time?” 
Regulus nodded guiltily. “I understand if you’re angry with me, but please know that I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I found your dorm by accident that first night and I don’t know. I just kept coming back. You just kept drawing me back.” 
He bowed his head and ran a hand through his curls. “I realize you might hate me after this, but you have been the best part of my day since I accidentally stumbled into your dorm and I think—no, I know that I’ve fallen for you.” 
You blinked in disbelief, still processing his confession. “So you’ve been…you this whole time? You knew everything I’ve ever said to Shadow. You listened to me vent and rant, thinking I was just talking to a cat.” You paused as something niggled at your brain. “When we first ran into each other at the bookstore, did you already know I was going to be there?” 
Regulus didn't deny it. “I did. I also already read all of the books on your shelves in advance on the off chance that you might mention it in class. I didn't really need help in charms, that was just an excuse to spend more time with you and I...I bought the same candles and blankets you like so you'd be comfortable in the common room. I learned all of that by listening to you, by spying on you, and I'm sorry. I’m so fucking sorry —" 
His apology was cut short as you surged forward to kiss him. Regulus was stunned for a moment as your lips met, but it didn’t take long for him to reciprocate. One arm slid around your waist to pull you closer while the other cradled your cheek. His kisses were hungry, like he was a man awaiting the gallows and you were his final meal. It was full of passion, the longing and yearning evident as he gorged himself on the taste of you. 
Coming up for air, Regulus finally opened his pretty emerald eyes and looked at you. His gaze pierced through your skin, raw and vulnerable. “You’re not mad at me?” 
“Are you kidding? That’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me.” Regulus sighed in relief, pressing his forehead against yours. “Plus, how can I be mad when you make such a cute little kitty?” 
Regulus laughed, the sweet, melodious sound filling the room. You brushed his curls back and grinned. “For the record, I’ve fallen for you too.” 
“That’s a relief. My friends have been pestering me on finally making a move for months. Pansy cornered me last night and lectured me on asking you to be my girlfriend before you realize that you’re too good for me.” 
“I think I like Pansy.” 
“Don’t tell her that,” Regulus groaned. “She’ll definitely try to steal you away from me.” 
“I don’t think you’ll have any trouble with that.” 
“Good, I don’t want Parkinson getting any ideas about running off with my girlfriend.” 
You raised a brow. “Oh, I’m your girlfriend now?” 
“Girlfriend. Love of my life. Apple of my eye. Take your pick, mon cœur.” 
“I’ll take all of the above, boyfriend.” 
Later that morning, after much cuddling and kissing, you and Regulus finally decided to head to the Great Hall for breakfast. You smiled as he held your hand, bumping your hip as the two of you walked through the corridors. It was strange how at ease you felt. You were vaguely aware of the eyes that trailed your every move, but they quickly blended into the background when Regulus pulled you close and kissed your cheek. 
Luna and Ginny perked up at the sight of you, surprise marring their faces when they spotted Regulus at your side. Their eyebrows raised to the skies, pointedly staring at your linked fingers. 
Later, you mouthed. You had a hell of a lot of explaining to do, but your friends merely smiled and nodded. 
“Finally,” Pansy announced exasperatedly. She patted the seat next to her as you shyly slipped in. “I was beginning to think that we’d have to scheme to get the two of you together.” 
“No need,” you said with a smile. “I think we took care of that on our own.” 
Regulus smiled and nuzzled against your shoulder. The boys flashed him shit-eating grins, but he didn’t seem to notice. “Stop scaring my girlfriend away, Pans.” 
“Oh, is it girlfriend now? It’s about time. I’ve only listened to you pine and yearn for months.” 
“Excuse her,” Blaise said. “She’s just happy to have another girl in the group.” 
“Damn right I am. I’m tired of spending so much time with you heathens.” Pansy patted your shoulder. “I hope you’re in the market for new friends, because you’re not getting rid of me now. My first act of friendship will be to determine whether or not to hex that little trollop for glaring at you. Do you know that girl, Y/N?” 
You turned and found Britt frowning at you with her arms crossed. “It’s alright, Pansy. She’s not worth it.” 
At the same moment, Tom sauntered through the aisles. Once he reached Britt, he cut her a glare that would paralyze a basilisk. She cowered back and made a hasty retreat. 
Tom merely continued walking before taking a seat next to Mattheo. “So, that hag, “ he says in a no-nonsense tone. “Would you like me to take care of her?” 
You glanced at the group in concern. “What exactly does taking care of her mean?” 
Mattheo’s curly head popped up from his plate. “Oh, he means he’ll feed her to his snake.” 
You laughed at the jest, but Tom remained stone-faced. He was obviously just kidding. Right?
“He’s dead serious,” Theo added. “I’ve seen him do it before.” 
With a gulp, you turned back to Tom. “That won’t be necessary, Tom. Please don’t feed Britt to your snake.” 
Tom shrugged as though you were discussing the weather. “Suit yourself.” 
When everyone returned to their morning banter, you turned to Regulus. “What have I gotten myself into?” 
Regulus smiled and pecked your lips. “You know, I considered clawing her ankles off, but I think Tom’s way will be much quicker.” 
“Regulus Black.” You scolded, though it wasn’t entirely convincing given the grin you were biting back. 
“It’s Reggie to you, love.” You stared at him pointedly, which only made him sigh dramatically. “Fine, Tom’s snake will not have a new snack, but only because I have a saint for a girlfriend.” 
“And I have a devious little sinner for a boyfriend.” 
Regulus smirked. “I’ll make sure to worship at your altar for penance.” 
You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help but blush as Regulus laid his head down on your shoulder once more. You ran your fingers through his curls, smiling to yourself when he let out a satisfied hum that sounded awfully close to a purr. 
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neil-gaiman · 10 months ago
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Hello Mr. Gaiman,
I know you are not a copyright lawyer, but you are an author who has been producing and interacting with copyrighted works for longer than I've been alive, so I thought I'd just ask: Where is the line between making a pop culture reference in a work and infringing on copyright?
I sincerely struggle to believe that every mention of characters like Yoda, Wonder Woman, or the Doctor in books, movies, songs, etc. gets approved by Lucasfilm, DC Comics, or the BBC before going out in the world, but am I wrong? Does having a character in a novel or comic book dress up as, say, Coraline for Halloween require coordination with you (and possibly Laika as well)?
While it's a long shot, I thought I'd ask you, in case you see this and have an answer.
Thank you for your time,
Brian
I can give you the same answer that a copyright lawyer would. At least at the beginning. "It's complicated, and it all depends," is how it would begin.
After that it moves into specifics. In the last season of Good Omens, for example, I got permission from Iain Banks's widow to have The Crow Road front and centre and to see the first sentence on screen. On the other hand I didn't get specific permission to talk about Doctor Who (or invent the 1964 Doctor Who Annual). (On the other other hand I knew nobody was going to complain about that because the BBC were the production studio making Good Omens and if they had wanted to grumble they would have let me know early.) We got permission from the Buddy Holly estate/music publishers to use Buddy Holly's song Everyday, but we didn't seek or get permission to use the song in the plot.
Fair use exists, transformational use of copyrighted material exists, and parody exists, and all of these things mean that if you're watching a Halloween episode of something where the kids are dressed as Coraline, Freddy Krueger, the Scream killer, and Pinhead, permission might have been granted or it might not have been requested.
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elixrr · 11 months ago
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ᴄᴜᴅᴅʟᴇ ɴɪɢʜᴛꜱ! ☆ ʜᴏʏᴏᴠᴇʀꜱᴇ ᴍᴇɴ¡
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ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜꜱᴇ ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜ, ɪ ʙᴇʟɪᴇᴠᴇ ɪɴ ʟᴏᴠᴇ.
ꜰᴛ: Xiao, Wriothesley, Lyney, Dan Heng, Argenti, Blade.
ꜱʏɴᴘᴏꜱɪꜱ: Headcanons about their cuddles with you!
ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: I considered adding Alhaitham into the mix, but I figured that I didn't know his character well enough for his part to be accurate and good. Apologies to all of the Alhaitham fans! Also, new format for my fanfiction posts, inspired by many creators! (Namely iheartganyu)
ᴘꜱ: pretty little spoiler warning if you haven't caught up with anything in either game 😭😭
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✰ xiao ✰
— An adeptus of Liyue, the Vigilant Yaksha. It's easy to guess that cuddles with him are rare. Mostly due to his job, but he's too... awkward. Xiao has been touch-starved for the great majority of his life, so it's easy to assume that he's inexperienced, much to his dismay.
Don't get me wrong. He'd love to cuddle more often, but— while inexperience is one part of it, Xiao is ultimately insecure. He strongly believes that he's tainted. He believes that he's a disgusting, vile creature that lives only to slaughter, but he thinks of you as an angel. Xiao thinks that too many cuddles would taint you, alongside the fact that he worries about his Karmic Debt situation.
Nevertheless, when you do convince him to cuddle with you, he'll be awkward at first; hesitant to put his arm here, overthinking how he put his hand there, etc., etc. He doesn't emit much body warmth, but he finds you to be really cozy and warm to the touch, thus finding comfort in the closeness once he moves past the insecurities and hesitation. By the way, unless you like to initiate and contribute to conversations, most of the cuddles will be in comfortable silence, excluding the occasional comment about the scenery or compliments about each other.
Xiao would cuddle on the condition that it's in a secluded area and nobody else is present except for you and him. He'd prefer to book a bedroom at Wangshu Inn, but if not, then he'd prefer to cuddle on the rooftop of the inn, late at night when the stars shine from the heaven-blessed galaxies, the subtle natural light kissing your features to give him a little bit of an extra view. He doesn't think too much about how he looks to you, but he could only hope that he's at least bearable to look at. (Which he very much is.)
☆ wriothesley ☆
— He's so touchy and extra cuddly that sometimes that extra cuddly can be too extra, resulting in a near impossible mission to get out of bed in time for you to even get ready. Wriothesley loves holding you close to him. You're his love, and so he wants to treat you like it, but sometimes cuddles can transform into something a little bit more than just a cozy night, wrapping one's arms around the other.
Speaking of, good luck to you if you prefer being the big spoon, because you can't be the big spoon anymore. Wriothesley will always be the one to hold you, always the one to just wrap his arms around you and cherish you like never before. As previously mentioned, you're his lover, and he wants to treat you like it! Wriothesley wants to make you feel special, like you're the most important person in his life, so he'll do his best to give you that.
Also, I feel as though he'd whisper to you a lot. Even if there's no need to be quiet, he finds it intimate to just lean in and whisper compliments in your ear while holding you close. It doesn't matter what situation you're in; it doesn't matter where you guys are, even if you're talking about your day or the constellations in the skies above, he'll interrupt you, lean in close and just say something about your eyes, maybe your clothes, but preferably your lips.
Wriothesley would also love kissing you at random whenever you cuddle. Not to say he doesn't already do that outside of cuddles, but it's just, to him, you look amazing. You look cute, and why wouldn't he kiss you when you're his gracious lover? He hopes that he doesn't go overboard and accidentally make you uncomfortable, but at the same time, he knows you enjoy it— that smile on your face every time he pecks a kiss on your nose or cheek tells him everything he needs to know.
Before I forget, he doesn't prefer cuddles during any time of the day, but given his job, it's mainly during his afternoon tea breaks, and 100% at night in bed with you. To be honest, if he could, he'd take a full day off just to hold you tight and spend the day with you, wrapped like burritos in a blanket and sipping the day away with refreshments and love.
Some day, he might as well do just that.
☆ lyney ☆
— If it weren't for his job as a magician and as part of the fatui, he wouldn't let go of you. When Lyney can, he clings to you like a lost child who had finally found their parent in a big city. He holds your waist with one hand and performs little magic tricks with the other to impress you. Lyney's a very clingy, touchy lover.
When cuddling, he loves getting super close to the point where there's almost no space between the two of you. But on the occasion, he'll snuggle so close that it's basically just a tight hug—the only difference is that you're both lying down. The only times he isn't super, mega close to you, is when he's making rainbow roses appear randomly around your body. Most of the time, it's all fun and innocent, but other times, Lyney enjoys the look on your face when he does something quite bold.
Also, Lyney's very talkative while cuddling. Even in moments of relaxation, he'll take the time to just stare at you, even if he can't get the full view because of the ungodly lack of space, Lyney will look at you and start complimenting you. He loves you so much, and that's another huge way to show it. He's a romantic kind of guy. If there's a way to show his affection, he will take and use that way to show his affection. He loves your smile; he loves it when you blush, and it slowly grows more evident by the second because he starts to blush, too. Also, Lyney would immediately just hold you more at the sight of your reaction.
Nevertheless, his need to be close can change. Whenever he's out on a mission given by Arlecchino— more specifically, an assassination mission— you won't see him for a good three days. Even when the mission's complete, he'd want to seek out your love, comfort, and affection, but he stops himself. Lyney believes that his hands are still painted with the blood of the murdered, no matter how many times he washes or scrubs them, he'll still see the visible darkening red blood stains. There's no way he's even going near you with those kinds of sins straight on his body. It's sad, and you might have to seek him out yourself if he doesn't show up for the next few days. When you do find him, the moment he sees you is when that wall of guilt shatters, and he nearly breaks down seeing you again. Seeing you every day made him used to you, and just a few days of deprivation made him feel miserable. The simple, mere sight of you had him almost sobbing, running back to you and holding you tight, finally reunited with the one he loves most.
Were he not guilty of association with the fatui, he wouldn't have ever needed or wanted to let go.
☆ dan heng☆
— Blushing little mess. He's never a fan of PDA, so even when he does want to hold you outside of his or your room, he doesn't. Hence why the moment you both enter the private space of a hotel room or a bedroom, Dan Heng takes your hand and leads you to the bed for cuddles. He loves them, really, but he's a flustered mess of a lover because of how embarrassed he felt about being so clingy.
He's a big spoon, too, so he holds you close to him while cuddling. He likes the closeness, but he hates how visibly red his face gets, so he buries his face into your shoulder to hide. Sometimes, he just lays there listening to you or simply calming down in silence, but he does like hearing your voice before bed. It helps him sleep, and it somehow prevents nightmares of Blade. Quick note, your comfort and warmth make him feel safe through the night, and you accompany him when he'd usually be alone, either on his phone or reading a book.
PS: Dan Heng prefers to sleep in your room and/or in a hotel room because your bed and the hotel's provided beds are much more comfortable than a sleeping bag. He loves wrapping a blanket around the two of you and holding you like that. He says it's so you both get an even amount of warmth, and neither of you takes more of the blanket than the other, but he really does it because he feels a bit closer to you.
In his Imbibitor Lunae form, sleeping with him gets a bit harder, simply because he finds it harder to control himself. But when he can control himself, he'll let you run your fingers through his long hair, maybe even letting you touch his horns. Still, he doesn't allow the latter too often for reasons left unsaid. Anyway, he dislikes using this form because of how it reminds him of his former's past. He feels as though he's trapped in the memories and sin that are not his own. Yet, you make him feel comfortable in his own skin. He feels free with you; he feels alive, and he loves you for your ability to make him feel that way. Dan Heng will do everything in his ability to make you feel the same way.
And he likely already has.
☆ argenti ☆
— The most proper and romantic. Compliments littered across your entire figure, his hand in yours kissing your knuckles constantly with the addition of the most rosey and romantic sweet nothings. Argenti is old-fashioned and the most romantic, as he believes that this is the only way to live for his adored Aeon. The most comment compliment you'd hear between kisses is, “you're the most exquisite person in my world,” and Argenti would always wink with his compliments. Sometimes, it's wonderful to be the subject of his rose-colored words, but other times, it gets old; you become slightly lovesick.
The solution to that is conversation while holding each other in bed, or perhaps it's simply ushering Argenti to cuddle with you beneath the stars at night. It's beautiful to see the galaxy in its brightest moments, hovering from the dark skies. Argenti would silently pray to his Aeon, thanking her profusely for letting him see this wonderful view in person.
Still. You are his lover, and sometimes the weight of fear and trauma gets to him. Argenti often looks to you to confide in, and usually, nights like these are rarely cuddle nights, but sometimes, when it gets bad, you'll hold him in the night while he talks about his past— the wars, the music, the old friends, the worries— and how terrifying it can be if he would succumb to the same fate as his once so honorable friend. In exchange for your comfort, he holds you close and vows to protect you in your dreams and from the moment you wake to the moment you sleep again.
Argenti prefers to cuddle in bed, during a picnic, or beneath the stars. He seldom makes exceptions for heavy PDA, but when it comes to cuddling in public, even if there are people around during the day or at night, if it's stargazing or a picnic, he doesn't care as much. He'll smile, his eyes set only on you, not the eyes that may linger on your cuddles.
He doesn't care enough to look at anyone else, not when the embodiment of beauty lays right by him.
☆ blade ☆
— He's cautious. Blade's name takes after his weapon, and though he himself is not a sword, he still worries that he'll hurt you through cuddles. Blade is marastruck, and if it starts to get to him, he's terrified that it'll strike you, too. He admires death and the concept of it, but for you to die and for him to live with that? Impossible.
Anyway, convincing him is still 100% doable. When you do cuddle with him, he holds you with hesitation and care. He doesn't show it, as he masks his emotions with lips pursed to a line, but he feels relief. He feels happy, even, but he can't really tell. The Mara has calmed, and he can catch a break from the trauma. Something worth noting: Blade's trauma might cause him to cling to you, holding you close for comfort and reassurance— but that's only when he finds himself to be desperate for your love and affection. It's the one thing that keeps him together; your smile alone can mend all of his wounds, physical or not.
That can happen at any time of the day, but he'll typically seek you out at night. Blade will— without a spoken word— hug you from behind with a sigh of relief, and he'll take you to the nearest spot with the most privacy, and he'll hold you tight once more without a sign of letting you go. He loves you, and without even saying that he does, you already have all the evidence you need to conclude that he does. Holding you feels like heaven, in Blade's eyes. Once he gets past his fears of hurting you, he'll wrap his arms around your waist, but if he cuddles with you from behind, he'll wrap his arms beneath your chest, all with a sigh of relief and the tiniest hint of a smile.
The two of you cuddling is cute, so cute that Silver Wolf just had to stream it and broadcast one of your cuddle sessions to all of the other Stellaron Hunters.
Of course, you and Blade will never cuddle near any of the Stellaron Hunters ever again after that.
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astrologydayz · 8 months ago
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ASTRO SEXOLOGY NOTES - NATAL CHART6🔞
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LUST ASTEROID - 4386 IN SAGITTARIUS = sexually attracted 2 people from different countries/different religions/or 2 teachers/mentors. They love exploring their fantasies, & are usually not afraid 2 try everything, at least once - "u can never be 100%sure u don't like something, if you never try it" kinda mentality here. They can get turned on by people who's not afraid 2 throw a line at em/not afraid of taking the initiative! They find that sexy as hell, as they typically can be the ones initiating things! Cultured, curious, & smart people def gets them going - turned on by people who's ready2 explore their fantasies, without any inhibitions! They can be a big fan of spontaneous, wild, & free sex - can also get really turned on by hips/thighs usually<33.
LUST ASTEROID - 4386 IN VIRGO = sexually attracted 2/turned on by people younger than them/younger looking people/people who's more inexperienced than them/people they can "teach" sexually/clean looking people/clean in general. These people are usually more than willing 2 put their sexual partners fantasies/sexual desires/urges before their own - they want 2 learn how their partner's body works, & they work hard 2 get that O in, in their books for sure. They can get off simply by getting their partner off a lot of the time. These people can actually be quite freaky/kinky in bed, when they feel safe/secure enough 2 show that part of themselves.
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SUN CONJUNCT/TRINE MARS IN A WOMAN'S CHART, & SHE'S INTO MEN = usually really sexually attracted 2 really manly looking men - & she can also be really sexually attracted 2 alpha men, but only the confident, secure, & kind ones - not the cocky, conceited, "my dick is bigger than yours" loser ones. MOON CONJUNCT/TRINE MARS IN A MAN'S CHART can show us a man that loves sex being full of feelings/emotions, passion, teasing, & most important of all - security. If he wants 2 cry during sex, he wants 2 do it without someone maybe laughing right in his face. Or if he has some kind of fantasy/fetish, he isn't quite comfortable with himself yet = he won't risk telling just anybody - he really needs that trust, before opening up 100% sexually. MARS CONJUNCT/TRINE/SEXTILE URANUS can be really into phone sex/getting off from videos, & pictures2📹📱💻. These people can also get sexually aroused outta nowhere, or they just suddenly feel the need 2get off, NOW. These people can love the most unused sex positions, they can even invent a sex position of their own - they like it more when they're the ones creating. JUPITER CONJUNCT/SQUARE NYMPHE ASTEROID - 875 can show a person wanting to have sex/get sexual/get off A LOT. Like, If they could = they would probably fuck their whole life away😭😂. No but fr, they can be really really fixated on gratification/sex in general.
5TH HOUSE is that passionate, fun, & "casual/dating sex". 8TH HOUSE is that deep intimate soul merging/transformative sex.
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LUST ASTEROID - 4386 CONJUNCT NORTH NODE = people whose life purpose is part of exploring their sexual urges/desires, really figuring that out4 themselves, since it's not common for them with the opposition 2 South Node - it's something completely NEW 2 them! They can feel so uncomfortable with baring themselves in the beginning, but once they get going, &get comfortable = new kind of confidence unlocked baby✅. MARS CONJUNCT/TRINE/SEXTILE WILD ASTEROID - 1941 can show a person being into some really unseen/wild shit when it comes 2 sex - getting sexual/or they're just wild in bed in general/can be the type 2 not really say no2 anything, unless they're just not that into u/or REALLY just not that into whatever thing they get asked about.
VENUS ASPECTING BLACK MOON LILITH are the ones being sexually attracted 2 people from a different "class"/race/country/religion - or they can feel sexually attracted 2 people they shouldn't really feel a sexual attraction2 sometimes - "taboo shit".
MARS IN 5TH HOUSE can be a big fan of casual sex/friends with benefits arrangements/or be a big fan of having sex with date partners before the date ends/or ofc just a fan of fucking around4fun. MARS IN 8TH HOUSE do not fuck4fun, or for casualty. They need a soul/deep connection with someone 1st. They don't give out their sexual energy freely like that - u have 2 prove you're worthy 1st - whatever they deem that is. Time doesn't matter here - it's about the connection, & the intimacy - so they could easily have sex with someone on the 1st night, but there HAS 2 be some deep unexplainable connection of some kind! - Which rarely happens 4 these natives.
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5TH HOUSE RULER IN 7TH HOUSE are usually the dating 2 marry type, & they're also the ones that can wait with having sex until marriage. 5TH HOUSE RULER IN 11TH HOUSE can date/get into "love affairs" with people they're friends with/with friends friends/step siblings friends/with people they collaborate with/meet online/or with people they meet through mutual shared causes! VENUS/JUNO IN 5TH HOUSE can show a person mostly dating around, not really committing 100% a lot - &when they do find somebody2 commit2 = if they break up, they're usually out dating around again pretty fast - "the best way 2 get over someone, is 2 get under someone else". NORTH NODE IN 5TH HOUSE can show that exploring one's sexuality/exploring pleasures/desires while dating/dating around is part of one's life purpose.
WOMEN WITH KLETT ASTEROID - 2199 IN VIRGO can be REALLY picky when it comes 2 who they let hit/get sexual with🙅🏼‍♀️ - That's also why they can be quite inexperienced at times. Masturbation isn't really a thing they care about either, - usually. Very into the health/cleanliness of their vagina.
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MEN WITH DICK ASTEROID - 17458 IN CANCER got that safe, & secure boyfriend dick💋. U know what u get almost every time, AFTER the 1st time - so you're never left disappointed. MEN WITH DICK ASTEROID - 17458 IN CAPRICORN Can be very "clumsy" sexually/in the sexual department throughout their teenage years/young adult years - but they're usually sexually "advanced" at around 30-35 years of age💚.
MEN WITH DICK ASTEROID - 17458 IN AQUARIUS = def not a basic boyfriend dick. Something about it can be alien like - not in a bad way, daddy chill😭😂😂. But the length, the thickness, the way it stands when erected/or simply the look of it in general IS DIFFERENT. Not a basic dick, okay. Appreciate it! MEN WITH SATURN CONJUNCT/TRINE/QUINTILE DICK ASTEROID - 17458 can show them holding forever in bed💀😭😂 - Can also show that they're talented at withholding themselves from cumming!🫰🏼 Also pretty good self esteem when it comes2their dick usually.
MEN WITH SATURN SQUARE/QUINCUNX DICK ASTEROID - 17458 can show performing issues - problems with getting erections/feeling bad about their dick - self esteem issues/or issues with cumming2fast.
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THANKS4READING BABE!! APPRECIATE U, ALWAYS!💜
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lottiecrabie · 1 year ago
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anatomy – matty healy
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matty is supposed to tutor you in biology, but there’s another subject you’re much more interested in…
or tutor!au <3
tags: 18+, oral sex, unprotected sex, dry humping, dom/sub undertones, choking, cumplay, virgin!matty, freaky little loser guy
6802 words
You sit on top of the sheets of your bed, ankles crossed. You pop your bubblegum, flipping boredly through your Cosmo. Lipsticks, perfectly preened women, and the top ten sex tips flip in front of your eyes. You halt at the horoscope, indulgently checking yours. You’re not superstitious: it’s just that anything is better than this godforsaken lesson. 
“And, you see, the specific shape of the active site of an enzyme enables it to function,” Matty drawls on, unfaltered by your clear disinterest. Maybe he doesn’t see; his nose is pulled tightly in his book. “It’s— It’s really a simple understanding of 'lock and key'. You can think of enzyme activity as molecular collisions resulting in the formation of enzyme-substrate complexes.” All the terms blur together in your mind. In one ear, transformed and decorated by the pretty pink things on your page, then out the other. 
You almost feel bad for Matty, pushed into your room by your parents with pleading, desperate eyes to make you learn something. He sits at your desk while you distract yourself with whatever is more interesting which, as it so happens, is almost everything. He doesn’t complain, doesn’t say much to you other than hey and a string of jargon you don’t care to understand. It’s not like your bitchy, unimpressed stare is very welcoming. 
Matty has this nervous, twitchy energy about him. He stutters through half of his sentences, pushing his glasses up his nose, searching for the fixed point in his book he lost. He swallows thickly, starts again. An awkward, limby thing. 
Really, it’s a shame he wears all those nerdy shirts and drowning clothes, as well as those horrendous thick, square glasses. If you assess him objectively enough, he could be quite pretty. He’s lean, with a cutting jaw, and adorable curly hair. Girls would look away a flutter of red flags if it meant birthing kids with those traits. 
You sigh, pushing the Cosmo off your bed, rolling to your belly. You rest your chin on your crossed arms, eyeing Matty. He gives you a look at the shifting noise, rounding his eyes as they fall on the stripe of skin your loose lounging shorts have revealed in the crossfire. It’s barely a few centimeters of your asscheeks, but Matty blushes all the same, flipping back to his book as though burned. You smirk. Interesting.
“Matty,” you trail lightly, the cadence of a song. 
You found your bright new, shining distraction. Your smile is vicious and dangerous, ready to bite, to gnaw to the bone. 
Matty looks up at you, incertain. You rarely address him during your tutoring lessons. You’re not even sure you’ve said his name before, at least not to him. “I’m bored with biology,” you declare, artfully pouty and dejected. 
“Oh,” he says. He swallows thickly. Flips through his book. His nervous tics make him all the more tantalizing to you. Some cruel need to toughen him up. “Um—”
You lick your teeth, grinning. “I want to study anatomy.”
Matty laughs, pushing his glasses up his nose. “That’s not in the syllabus.” There’s something about his total misunderstanding of your line that makes the need frizzle inside of you. An innocent little thing, to pick and devour through. 
You sit up, resting your weight on your heels. Your knees part suggestively, the loose shorts riding up your thighs. Your crop top sits up your ribs. Belly button piercing winks at him. Matty takes in the sight, face pale. You grin, victorious.  
“I didn’t mean that anatomy,” you say, teasing. You rest a hand loosely on your leg, purposefully dragging his stare down to it. Your pink nails flash against your skin. 
“Oh.” He swallows thickly, hypnotized by the soft flesh of your thighs. “I—” He shakes his head, as if to draw himself out of the daydream. “I, um—” He repeats, then laughs, “What?”
You sigh, kneeling up and getting off the bed. Your bare feet wiggle in the fuzzy, pink carpet. You prowl to him, predator-like. His breath hitches in his throat, right where you want it. 
“Matty,” you sing, and he chokes at the sound. Just his name drives him wild— good to know. You get close enough to lean on the desk, to tower over him. He blinks up at you, robbed of speech. You flutter your eyelashes at him. “Are you a virgin?” 
His lips part in surprise, but he doesn’t answer. Not that he needs to; the fucking sight of him is enough to know. It’s about the fun of watching him stumble, stutter, push his little glasses up his nose, telltale signs you revel in. 
You sit on the desk, bunching his careful notes. You trail two fingers up his shoulder, that awful cheap plaid. You almost resent the feel of it on your skin, if not for the way he shivers. 
You pout mockingly at him, stopping where the collar of his shirt meets the skin of his neck. “Are you gonna answer me?” 
“Yeah— yes.” You run your fingertips on his neck, a grazing touch that has him staring up at you in devotion. You smirk. 
“Have you ever been touched like this?” You run your thumb to the other side of his neck, a strong path. You want him to feel it, until your hand stretches over his throat, possessive. 
He swallows under your palm, Adam’s apple bobbing on your fortune-telling palm lines. “No,” he admits quietly. You feel it resonate more than you hear it. 
You hum, silently thrilled. “And have you ever been kissed?” You whisper. 
Matty stares up at you. He waits a second, two— takes his time. “No.” You smirk. You pick your gum between two fingers, pressing it into the corner of his notes. Perfect. 
It’s a little awkward, of course, because you’re perched on the desk and he’s sitting all the way down on his chair, gripping its arms. But, still, you bend down and kiss him square on the mouth. 
He gasps against you, freezing there. You’re undeterred; you kiss and kiss him, smearing your strawberry lipgloss, until he snaps into action and kisses you back. It’s a rhythmless, artless thing.
He doesn’t know how to kiss. 
What he lacks in technique, he makes up in eagerness, opening his mouth and licking a wet tongue into yours. You giggle a little, taste the Sour Patch kids he nervously ate from his bag between two scientific words you purposefully didn’t remember. You press at his throat, just so he’s as breathless as you are. He moans against your lips, panting. 
Matty doesn’t dare touch. His body is fixed to the desk chair, letting himself be kissed, taking only what you are willing to offer. He sits there like you are breathing life into his mouth, eating and eating and never asking for more. It’s what makes you want to give him more. 
You pull away from him, straightening like a queen taking her throne. Under you, the pages wrinkle and ruffle, and he doesn’t even care. His lips are swollen and pink, shiny from the lipgloss. Breaths puff out from there, pulling attention. 
“You’re kinda pretty,” you admit lowly, like a secret he should know. 
“Thanks,” Matty flushes. 
You release his throat, wiping your pink gloss off his lips. They part instinctively. You smile, slipping your thumb inside. He sucks the strawberry, warm tongue on your fingerprint. Power loosens your head.
“Do you want me?” You ask, as though his mouth drooling around your thumb wasn’t indication enough. You want the words; you want the worship. 
“Yeth,” he says, choking on your finger. You smile, taking it out and drying it on his cheek.
You don’t make a big show of taking your shirt off. Your hands are at the hem of your baby tee, then it’s off your shoulders, thrown on the pink carpet. Matty whines, surprised and overwhelmed, throwing a furtive glance at the cracked door of your bedroom. 
“It’s okay,” you whisper, taking his hand. Soft and weak; he hasn’t worked a day in his life. It’s slack between your fingers. He lets you puppeteer it to your breasts, lets you grope yourself with him as an instrument. 
He makes another small noise from the back of his throat, staring at the fucking sight like he can’t quite believe it truly is his own hand. “God,” he mutters to himself, and it’s exactly how you feel. 
“Say thank you,” you taunt him, because you know he will. 
Like clockwork, Matty revels, “Thank you.” Growing bold, he rubs a thumb over your hard nipple, a tough callus you didn’t expect on the tip of it. It makes you moan; a crack in your spotless armor, but he doesn’t even notice. Too preoccupied with playing with your tits, pawing at it greedily. 
“Can I—” He flushes, shaking his head. 
“What?”
“Can I lick them?” A drop of heat strikes through you. You clench your thighs, arching your back into his readied palm. 
“Yes.” He leans in before you’ve finished the s, sucking your abandoned nipple into his mouth. He licks and rubs and pinches, raw skill pulling at your sensitive skin. You bite back groans, breathing harshly. Your chest rises and falls into his mouth, but he’s just as diligent. 
You rake a long-nailed hand into his hair, scratching his scalp with every particularly delicious lick. He moans at that, vibrating on your sensitive nipples. 
He sticks his tongue out, panting like a dog, dipping down to the valley of your tits and pressing a kiss, then climbing up a new breast. He bites gently, and you jump, surprised by his boldness. 
“Sorry,” he whispers. You don’t like this little switch-up in power. He’s supposed to be purring for you, enthrallment shining in his eyes. You tug on his hair, making him look at you. 
Matty stares up, dutiful. He doesn’t care about the power game; hasn’t even realized you were slipping. He takes what you give. 
You soothe away the sting of his hair. “Pretty boy,” you coo. Matty beams at that. “I want to hear you scream.”
With this, you jump off the desk, and kneel under it. 
“Oh,” Matty says, eyes wide as he watches you fumble with his pants. You unbutton and unzip, fast and knowledgeable, dipping into his boxers— “Wait.”
You look up at him, inches from your goal. You cock your head, frowning. “What?”
“Just—” He pants, staring at you. “Just give me a second.”
You hum, grazing a finger on the faint happy trail of his stomach. His belly sucks in. “Are you nervous?”
“No,” he says. “Yes. I don’t know.” He laughs. His hands still grip the armrests, white-knuckled. “Why are you doing this?” 
You shrug. “I want to.” You tip your head, kissing his soft hand. “Do you want me to?” 
“Well, yeah.”
You grin. “Relax.” Finally, your hand slips under his underwear, and you wrap around his hard length. He gasps, cold fingers against hot skin, fingers against him. 
His hips jump into your fist as you draw him out. Another nervous glance to the door, still half-opened. Your parents are somewhere in the house, pretending not to exist. You lick your lips.
You lightly scratch your pink nails against him. You run a thumb on his tip, smearing precum. He hisses, turning into a moan as you slowly drag your hand down. He’s frozen and tense, almost afraid of moving, as if that would make you go away. 
“Teach me,” you say. 
He blinks at you, dazed. “Huh?” 
Your eyes vaguely look up to the desk you hide under, biology notes in his scratchy writing laying wrinkled. “Biology. My parents are paying you for a reason, aren’t they?” 
“Oh—” He flushes, embarrassed. Pushes his glasses up. “Right, right.” His hands let go of the armrests, searching through the pages. You choose this moment to kiss the tip of his cock. He whimpers, shutting his eyes in pleasure. “Fuck.” You giggle, all too happy. 
He struggles to find where you disturbed him, biting his lip in comical concentration. You tease him, enjoying all the little breaths he chokes on, the soft sounds he tries to hide. Your hand pumps up and down, twisting at the wrist. 
You wonder how often he’s done this on himself, who he imagined between his legs. 
From now, it’ll be you. You’ll make sure of it. 
“Um, right, so,” Matty starts, out of breath. “In some reactions,” he continues arduously, “one substrate is broken down into multiple products. And—” Devilishly, you lick a stripe up his length. He groans, twitching on your tongue. “Shit,” he mutters. It’s funny coming from him; the swear rings wrong, like a costume. 
He drags his stare down, pulling away from his notes to watch you. You indulge him, parting your lips and wrapping them around his tip. You suck on it gently. His face wrinkles, a moan breaking from him. You pull your head down, swallowing him. He clutches at his papers, scrunching them himself. 
“Oh, God,” Matty says, trying to catch his breath as you bob your head. “I’m— Shit.” 
You let go of him with a wet pop, stroking him quickly. “Shh,” you tease him. “My parents.” Again, he throws a nervous look towards the door. 
Saliva and lipgloss and precum already lube him, but you keep your hand at his base as you spit on his cock. You drag it down his length. Matty’s eyes snap towards you. “Do that again.” He wants to see you.
You smirk, tilting your head to leave wet kisses up his cock, then lick his tip. You spit on it, and a low groan resonates from him. His hips rise up into your hand, but you push them down with your claws. 
“Fuck,” he whimpers from the back of his throat, melting on the chair. He likes it messy. You grin, peppering little kisses over his cock, smearing him in strawberry lipgloss. 
“What’s the other thing?” 
“Huh?” He blinks, tying himself back to reality. “Right, um, substrates. It’s—” Again, you choose this moment to push him down your throat. He loses speech, mumbling incoherent syllables, some broken version of your name. 
Though your head bobs quickly, pulling further and further down his length, twisting a stroking hand all the same, you pinch your nails at his hip. He jumps, struck out of the daze of pleasure, blinking down at you. 
“Yeah, it’s— The other reactions are—” You let go of his hip, pinching your own nipple instead. Matty whines, losing his train of thought. “You’re not being fair.”
You laugh, spitting him out to catch your breath. You grope yourself and he watches, not sure which hand to focus on. His cheeks are tinted red, maybe from effort, or adrenaline, or shyness. It’s cute enough to bite. 
Wonder shines in his eyes. He can’t believe this is happening; he’s eternally grateful, as he should be. As they all should have been, those faceless men you’ve blown in the bathrooms of parties for attention and a momentary stop to complete boredom. They stayed quiet, almost afraid to make noise, to show they enjoyed it, until they shook and spilled inside your mouth. Matty’s not afraid to moan. 
Your brain rushes, sticky happy. You pant on his cock, trailing a finger down your stomach, then dipping in your shorts. Matty’s eyes widen, straightening to catch a glimpse. You smile, catching a pool of your arousal. 
You come back up, fingers sticky and wet with your slick, and smear it on his cock. Matty scrunches his face, whimpering, shaking under your hands. 
“You’re trying to kill me.”
“Only because it’s easy,” you mock, jerking and twisting your two hands in rhythm, wet sounds ringing in the room. 
You free his cock, gripping the armrests of the chair instead. You wrap your mouth around it, and bend down until your nose touches the faint smatterings of dark hair on his belly. You gag on him, and he strangles the edge of the desk trying to kill his moans. 
You pump him in your mouth quickly, feeling him twitch and rise to meet you. He remembers himself, falling down on the chair dutifully, not even burying a needy hand in your hair, as though afraid that would be asking for too much. 
You drag up, making him hit the inside of your cheek, before releasing him. You spit the precum on him, blinking up through teary eyes. He doesn’t have any words, red swollen lip bitten raw. 
“I taste great,” you say, and then offer up your still-wet fingers to him. He’s eager, sucking them into his mouth. He bobs, imitating you, and the sight and feel makes hot desire drip inside of you. 
You want to squeeze him until he pops. 
You take his hand, pulling it into your hair. He grips instinctively, pushing it out of your face. “Don’t push,” you warn, serious. He nods frantically, and you trust him to mean it. 
You take him into your mouth for what you know is the final time. You’re certain he won’t last long, droopy and moaning and twitching, hissing every time your tongue runs on him. You bob with skill and precision still. He tugs at your hair, both hands in now, trembling in the mess of it. He never pushes, or fucks his hips up; trusts you to undo him yourself. 
He swears and curses and whimpers, head falling down and back, vacillating between the sky and your red, puffy face. The sink is heard from faraway, but you don’t think he can even hear it. 
“I'm dreaming,” he whispers to himself, sounding wild. “I’m gonna wake up. I’m gonna be— I’m gonna—” Matty cries, slapping a hand over his mouth, and comes down your throat. He shakes, loud moans hidden in his palm, eyes shut and forehead wrinkled. 
He lets go of your hair with a fucked-out sigh, panting. His eyes never leave you, disbelief written all over it. You pull him out of your throat, and smile at him. 
You’re about to swallow when he touches your arm, unsure of where he’s allowed to now. “Wait, can you—” He grows embarrassed, blushing. “Can you open your mouth?”
You part your lips, showing off his white cum still sitting on your tongue. He whimpers at the sight, fingers digging into your arm. His breathing turns irregular, cheeks reddening, eyes darkening. He’s so strange. 
Still, you stick your tongue out, putting his load in evidence, making a spectacle of it. He looks tortured, enthralled. 
You stay long enough that you feel it run down, long white rope hanging from your tongue, then dropping on your breast. 
“Fuck,” Matty whispers to himself. Seemingly without thinking, he runs his thumb on your breast, catching his cum and sucking it between his lips. 
You smile, slurping the cum back into your mouth, and swallowing it. You flash your red tongue at him. “All clean.”
“Thank you,” Matty says. “I— I’m not sure why you did that, but— I, you know, appreciate it.” He’s so polite. You’d laugh if he wouldn’t snap back into that little head box of his. 
“I’m very thankful for all those lessons,” you wink.
“No, you’re not.” 
“No, I’m not.” Matty’s finger rubs the skin of your arm, that strangely tough callus, and it has you leaning into his touch. “Though, this has been my favorite lesson.” 
“God, I couldn’t even get a word out.”
“Hence why.”
Matty snorts and he offers you a hand. You grab it to manœuvre out from under the desk. You push your sweaty hair out of your face, then wipe the leftover stickiness from your breasts. 
Matty, of course, follows the movement to your tits. He swallows. “Do you, um,” he pushes his glasses up. “Do you want, like, something back?” 
You arch an eyebrow, incapable of holding a small giggle this time. “Do you know how?”
He stares into your eyes. “I could try.”
And, again, there’s just something about his eagerness, his willingness, his open devotion, that has you saying, “Yeah, I guess you could try.”
You tiptoe to your bedroom door, looking left and right into the hallway, before quietly shutting it. You turn around to a displeased Matty. “Oh, so you get to have it closed?” 
“‘S more fun when you’re struggling,” you shrug, devilish. You run to the bed, falling on the pillows, fluttering your eyelashes at him. “Come here, pretty boy.” He practically trips out of his chair to find you. He’s three steps in when you stop him. “Take your clothes off.”
He grows shy under your gaze. Staying in place, fingers shaking, he starts to unbutton his plaid shirt. He kicks off his sneakers and his baggy jeans until he stands there in his boxers. He’s as scrawny as you imagined him to be. You smile. 
Matty crosses his arms. “Can I see you, too?” He whispers.
You shimmy your shorts off your legs and throw it beyond the bed. Matty’s stare stutters on your pink thong, wet patch where your desire pooled. 
You draw a hand towards him and he takes it, falling over you on the bed. He doesn’t waste time, giving you a sloppy kiss before mouthing at your neck, your collarbones, your tits. He laps at them first and you wonder if he’s trying to get the last lingering taste of his cum. He catches a nipple next and sucks it. 
Gaspy moans leave your lips. You part your legs instinctively and he buries between them, already hardening. His cock hits your thigh and he sucks and pinches and plays until you start thinking he might really be able to try. 
Your hands descend down his back, freckled under your nails. You grip his small waist, pushing at his hip, the hem of his boxers. Matty understands, leaving you long enough to kick them off. He pants in front of you, leaning back already, wet, swollen mouth parted. 
Matty lays over you again and his hard cock presses into your need. You scratch your nails up his back and he jerks, bucking into you. A moan leaves both your mouths. He tries again, artless, just off your clit. 
“Oh,” he whispers, mostly to himself. He does it again, building and building heat inside of you, yet never relieving. 
You huff. You sneak a hand between your bodies, moving your thong aside until he slips under it. 
Another boy would have taken the opportunity, would have buried inside before you even had time to nod, but Matty doesn’t even think of it. 
He humps your wet cunt, tucked tight under your underwear, hem pressing his length. Matty moans every time, quickening, desperate. He tilts his hand to better see as his cock bulges the cloth, a wet patch forming where his precum stains. 
“Fuck.”
And it’s better; he’s faster, and firmer, and mostly there. He follows your little puffs of shameful breaths, staying where they transform into slack moans. Pleasure starts waking up inside your belly, sickly warm. 
But you’ve had boys hump at you before, had them bucking between your legs. You know it’s not what will get you off. You need your mind stimulated, to be so thoroughly hot and desperate you finally let yourself go. 
You pinch the nape of his neck, making him look at you. A slack, messy smirk lays on your lips. You tease, “Have you ever thought of me during our tutoring sessions?” 
Matty’s hips stutter. He looks away. “Like…”
“Yeah, like, on my knees.”
Matty blushes. “Well, yeah.” 
You grin, too pleased. A deadly smile, hunting. “When?”
“I don’t know…” He mutters. You scowl to yourself, and maybe he senses that, because his chin grazes your shoulder and he admits shamefully, “When you ate that popsicle. And you licked and you slurped and you sucked and, just— I’m a guy. I had visions.” 
“I had visions.” You imitate, mocking. You tsk, “You're such a nerd.” You roll your hips back against him and a whimper buries in the skin of your shoulder. “Was it how you imagined?”
“Better.” He nods fervently. “So much fucking better. I actually died, I think. Still unsure whether I’m dead or not.” Pride and power makes your head loose, makes pleasure ripple through your flesh. 
You claw at his skin, warning dangerously, “Tell anyone and you will be.” All it does is make him moan, bucking faster against you. Your toes curl. You breathe in his ear, “Tell me more.” 
“I, uh— Shit.” The tip of his cock burrows in your underwear as he slides, wet and slick from you. He shivers over you. “I’d think about— bending you over the desk.” 
Your smile ghosts your face, grazing his soft, fresh cheek. “Really?”
“Just, you know, when you wouldn’t listen. And you’d pop that chewing gum, and you’d ignore me, and you’d be mean.”
You smirk, clicking your tongue. “So you wanted to, what, toughen me up? Take your revenge?”
His cheeks redden. “No.” His lips brush your shoulders, and he kisses, opposite. “I don’t know. I wanted you to pay attention.” He licks your neck. “I wanted to make you scream.” Mouths at your jaw. “I wanted to fuck you. Or for you to fuck me— I wanted you.”
You can’t believe you’re now the one blushing. You pant, glad he’s buried in your throat, that he can’t see. A moan slips from you as he nips gently at your skin. Your eyes roll in your skull. 
“You like when I’m mean to you?” You tease meanly, out of breath. You scratch his back, burying your hand in his hair, and tugging until he looks you in the eyes. “Gets you all bothered?” 
Matty shivers, whining, “Fuck, please—” 
You push him onto his back, rolling over. Two hands press into his chest, and you might very well concave his ribcage. You stare him down, divine. “You wanted me to fuck you?” 
His messy, unbrushed hair falls around his head like a halo. He’s sweet enough to make your head spin. He watches you openly behind the glass of his specs, breathing, “Yes.”
You trail your fingernails on his hard cock, down to his base. “And now?”
Devoting, “Yes.”
A rush of thrill fills you. You kneel up, shimmying your underwear off. Matty gasps at the sight, raking a hungry gaze up and down your body. He holds the sheets of your bed with white-knuckled fingers. 
You waste no time, rocking your cunt against his tip once, twice, before slowly lowering yourself on him. You inhale at the stretch. Matty’s eyes shut, whining. “Look at me,” you order, and he listens. 
His eyes flash open. He blinks at you as you bottom out. His head rolls, shaking. “Oh, fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.” You go to move up, but he holds your hip down. He takes deep breaths. “Can we— Just, this is—”
“It’s okay,” you whisper, taking his hand and placing it over the regular beating of your heart. He thumbs your nipple while he’s there, breathing in sync with your pulse. You slowly roll your hips on him. 
Matty moans, gripping the flesh of your thigh. You let him adjust to the feel of it, rocking softly, dragging your clit on his pelvis. You bite your lip raw as pleasure blooms inside of you. Your thighs ache to go faster, harder, but you maintain the delicate pace for him. Just that has him shaking under you, and you once again grip his hand over your heart to ground him. 
“Sorry,” he says with an embarrassed laugh. “Fuck,” is immediately added when you circle your hips, his eyes rolling. “Fuck, sorry.”
“Stop apologizing,” you order. “What are the other reactions?” You say, attempting to drag him out of his anxiety-filled head. He frowns at you. “Of enzymes.”
His lips part. “I didn’t know you knew that term.” 
You roll your eyes, then your hips, euphoria fizzling under your skin. “I listen to you.” His unconvinced look betrays him. “Sometimes.”
“They’re, um— Shit. They come together to create one— fuck, one larger molecule or—” You finally rock faster, angling your hips to have him bury inside you right where you need him. You moan, chest rising and falling quickly. Your legs grow desperate; you chase that sickly pleasure. 
“Yeah?” You encourage him on, seeing his own pleasure resonate in his face. He bites his lip, pawing uselessly at your thigh. “Or?” You’re out of breath. 
“Or swap pieces,” he finally finishes between two moans. Chuckles, “Actually, pretty much all biological reactions you can think of probably—” Your hips fall harsher on him and he loses his train of thought, overwhelmed. You smile, setting a wild pace, completely unfair. 
“Probably what?” You say, teasing, “I’m always thinking about biological reactions.”
“Don’t tease,” he pouts, and you slow down your thrusts just to spite him. He whines, pressing his short fingernails into the skin of your thigh. 
“Come on.” You make him look you in the eyes, mocking, “Educate me.”
“They all have enzymes,” Matty finally finishes. You reward him by reaching down and pinching his nipple. He whimpers, cursing your name. “Why have you suddenly decided to be a good student?” 
“‘Cause you’re adorable when you’re struggling to find words,” you answer honestly. You hold your weight up on the hand pressed into his chest, angling your hips until your clit rubs and rubs his pelvis. Your eyes roll, fucking him quicker. “Fuck. I love when I can make you all stupid for me.” The power in changing up his DNA composition, making a smart boy incapable of remembering all the jargon you yourself don’t know, is addictive. Undoing him block by block until he’s putty in your hands. Matty just moans, not arguing. 
Sweat pearls his forehead. The white sheets make him angelic. He breathes your name, fluttering his eyelashes at you. “Can I try on top?” Maybe it’s because he looks so reverent, so innocent, that you nod. 
Matty doesn’t push you and roll you over, instead staying there, as though waiting for it to just magically happen. You giggle to yourself, unmounting him and falling back on the mattress, legs parted. He swallows thickly, laying over you. 
His glasses fall down his nose and you laugh, grabbing them and carefully placing them on your nightstand. He blinks, adjusting to the blurry sight. 
His hand shakes as he grabs himself and lines up. He misses once, twice, until you rest a soothing hand on his and guide him. Matty moans in your hair as he slides in. He stays in your wet heat for a second, catching his breath, before he thrusts. 
And it’s bad, of course. He doesn’t have any rhythm, bucking blindly inside of you. It’s a strange pace, irregular and powerless. He certainly can’t find any type of mindnumbing spot. Pleasure simmers lowly in your belly, heat turned off almost to nothing if it weren’t for the pretty moans that bury straight in your ear. 
You grab his hip, making Matty look at you. “Start slow,” you instruct, guiding him. He follows the movements of your hand, rocking back and forth, slow but regular. “There,” you nod, arching your back. “Just, tilt—” He repositions himself, eager to learn, and you shudder. You call his name, syrupy with moans. 
He’s a fast learner, following diligently the guidings of your gripping hand. He fucks into you slowly, but surely. Your toes curl. Pleasure wakes up again, coiling in your belly. “Like this?” He breathes. You nod, encouraging him on. 
“It’s like I’m tutoring you,” you remark, chuckling to yourself. Matty snorts. “I like being the smart one for once.”
Matty frowns. “You’re always smart.” He says it without thinking, because he means it. Something wet chokes your throat, tugs at your lips. “You just don’t listen.”
“Would you like me to?” You say, tone taunting. A self-destroying instinct, telling you to hurt, to ruin. “Make me your little pet? Be all obedient? Have me sucking your cock while you tell me all about biology?”
His eyebrows furrow. “Do you want me to do that?” All your bullets don’t land. He’s unconcerned on what he wants. You huff.
Instead of reckoning, you order, “Faster, now.” Matty nods against your cheek. He obeys, thrusting quicker. You let go of his hip, climbing up his back just to rake your nails down it. His hips snap faster, harsher, endeavored. You grin, licking his jaw, kissing the bone. 
“Fuck,” he whimpers, catching your lips and kissing you. You wrap your arms around his neck, trapping him there as he ruts between your legs. You swallow all the sounds he makes, kill the swears you think of saying. Euphoria washes you. 
He leaves your lips just to smack wet kisses over your face, again and again. On your forehead, your cheeks, your eyelids, your chin. He mouths down your throat, starts sucking and nipping at the side. You bury a hand into his hair, pushing him further down. “Not the neck,” you explain, breathy. 
Matty finds the side of your tits and he buries there, sucking at your skin. You arch into his mouth, pleasure rushing up your side at the pinpricks of pain. He moans against you, bucking faster. Your mind spins and spins. “Matty.” Again, he speeds up, harsh and wild. “Fucking hell, Matty.” 
You tug at his hair and he releases you, lips wet and swollen. He pants over you, eyes dazed with pleasure. A new wave of heat strikes you just from the sight of him, unmade and wild. You sneak a hand between your bodies. You find your clit easily, rubbing. 
Matty’s head drops to watch you. He whines, seeing where he disappears inside of you, over and over, where your pink nails swipe at you. 
He leans his weight on one arm, joining his own hand with yours. You’re surprised at the act, at the willingness of involving himself in the complicated business of your pleasure. Your fingers stop, resting up on your stomach. 
He paws blindly at your cunt, just a little off where you need him. You grip his wrist, angling him at the right place, gently circling and swiping with his finger. The callus presses on your clit and it’s a delicious sensation. You roll your eyes, crying out, then slapping your palm over your mouth. Matty grins proudly, continuing to rub at you. 
“This is good, right?” He whispers, pretty eyes all vulnerable on you. 
You nod frantically. “Yes. It’s good.” You melt on the sheets, parting your legs further. “It’s really good.” His cheeks flush at the compliment. You wrap your hand around his throat, resting there with silent ownership. “Did you ever think it’d be me?” 
Matty chokes on a laugh and a moan. “No. I never thought you’d ever even give me a look.” 
You hum, pleased with the answer. He realizes it’s a privilege. You grin, pressing your fingers on the sides of his neck. His hips stutter, then snap even faster, a broken cry leaving him. His lips part in quiet ecstasy. His eyes shut,  rapid movement behind his eyelids. 
You grin at him. “Say thank you, pretty boy.” 
You release him, at least giving him a chance. He falls into your shoulder, taking deep inhales, shaking. “Thank you,” he says, mumbly. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” You rake through his hair, soothing. “Aw, fuck, I’m gonna—” He twitches inside of you. 
“Not inside!” You shout. Matty gasps, thrusting out of you. He cries as he comes on your navel and cunt. He catches his breath, blinking himself back to this reality, still shaking. 
“Sorry,” he says, shortwinded. A pang of disappointment hits you. It’s not like you’ve ever come with someone else before, but it had felt really close this time. 
At least Matty tried. 
Matty watches his cum painted over your skin, catching your piercing, mixing with the slick of your cunt. He moans to himself, then bends down between your thighs. 
You rest on your elbows, frowning. “What—” He licks a stripe over your cunt, tasting both your juices. Euphoria strikes through you. Your back hits the mattress as you fall back, legs shaking. “Matty.” He hums, faraway, licking and licking to clean you all up. You bury a hand in his hair, grounding him in place. 
He finds your clit, rubbing it with the tip of his tongue, circling then sucking it. You jolt on the bed, biting back a scream. You frown to yourself, tugging on his hair, fire boiling inside your stomach. What the fuck. 
He laps at you, moaning every time your nails scratch his scalp, the sound vibrating against you. A hand wraps around your thigh, keeping you open for him. He devours you eagerly, hungrily, until you’re a mess melting into his mouth. 
“God, Matty,” you cry. You have to actually hold back another one with a slap of your hand, shocked at yourself as you scream into your palm. 
Matty stops, breathing harshly, and you throw a glance down in question. He climbs up your stomach, lapping at your skin, cleaning the last of his cum. You whimper at the dirty sight, desire drumming down your limbs. 
He throws you a hot look. Tongue out, full of white cum. He goes back between your legs and buries it in your cunt, fucking it in. You jump, cursing to the ceiling. Matty laughs, greedily tasting you. 
You roll your hips into his face, hitting the tip of his nose on your clit. Every strike has ecstasy resonating in your bones. You feel light on your bones. 
His lips wrap around your clit. He sucks, grazing a tongue, swiping and circling like you showed him. You recognize the same pattern, recognize the rhythm. Of course he’s a fast learner. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you chant, choked by your hand. You raise your hips into his mouth, silently begging. Your legs shake, desperate. Pressure pushes at your belly. Your eyes roll. “Don’t stop.”
He mumbles something in your cunt, probably a promise or a praise, dutifully not stopping. He laps and eats and fucks until your brain melts into your skull, dripping down your spine. 
“Oh, fuck, I’m—” Your head shakes fervently. “Just stay— Shit, Matty, just— I—” The pressure snaps and you come on his readied tongue, screaming. Hot white flashes in your vision. Relief washes you, dipping to every crevices, relaxing you. He moans against your cunt. 
Matty continues to lick you, mission-bound, until your lungs are on fire and you physically push him away. He smiles up at you, chin sticky and wet and red. He wipes it, kneeling. 
“Where the fuck did you learn how to do that?” You say, shortwinded, shocked to your bones. You stare at him like he’s grown a second head. 
It’s the first time someone other than your knowing hand made you come. And it’s fucking Matty Healy. You blink at him. 
“What?” He laughs, falling beside you on the bed. 
You gesture vaguely downwards. “That.”
“Oh,” he blushes. Shrugs. “I don’t know. I researched it once.”
“You— Oh, my God.” You stare at the ceiling in disbelief. “Oh, my God. You’re such a nerd.”
Matty grins, cheekily proud. He gently grazes the bruise he left on your breast, the splotch of red that will darken, be a leftover trace of him. 
“Thanks,” he says simply. 
“You’re welcome.” You shift your legs, feeling the wetness still between them. “Thanks to you too, I guess.” He grins, hiding in the white pillows. 
He gives you a look. “Will you listen when I tutor you now?” 
You smirk mischievously. “Maybe if you have my fingers in your mouth.”
“Oh,” Matty says, eyes wide. “Will you— Will this happen again?”
You make a noncommittal shrug, though a more definite answer hums in your heart. “Maybe if you’re really good.” You smile to yourself. “Or really boring, and I need to shut you up.”
“You can shut me up any day.”
“I know.” You linger in that moment for just a second more, eyes locked together, smiles tickling your lips. Then you sit up, reaching for your underwear. “Session’s almost done.” 
Matty nods, lips thin. “Right.” He pats the nightstand for his glasses.  
You dress yourselves, wiping away sweat and cum, brushing wild strands. You give an awkward goodbye, incertain, and Matty slips from the room. You don’t follow him to the door. You never do. 
Downstairs, you hear your parents thank him and give him a crisp 50 dollar bill. You giggle to yourself and fall on the bed, bone-deep exhausted. 
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confirmeddead · 6 months ago
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The crazy part about AMC’s Daniel Molloy and Devil’s Minion is they can do just about anything with it. They’ve turned Daniel’s character from someone referred to as “The Boy” in IWTV to a fully fleshed out character. They did this with Louis, who many didn’t care for until AMC’s IWTV. They transformed Louis into one of the greatest characters on TV!
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So Daniel Molloy isn’t a “boy” anymore per se, he’s lived a long life in between the first and second interviews. He’s had two marriages, kids, written several books, and seen so much success in his career. So what does this mean for Devil’s Minion?
Anne Rice all but wrote Daniel out of TVC after Queen of the Damned. Armand’s first and only fledgling just… gone. But Daniel is so essential to AMC’s IWTV now. I think most viewers would be sad if we didn’t see much of Daniel after Louis’ current story wraps up.
So from what we know about AMC’s Daniel, I’m hoping this changes the “after” drastically. Daniel doesn’t take well to being turned and is taken away to be cared for by Marius. Could you see our Daniel doing that? He’s gone through every bullshit life can throw at you at this point. Two divorces, kids that don’t talk to him, drug abuse, etc. I don’t think he’s that boy Anne Rice wrote about, at least not anymore. Maybe he was in 1970s San Francisco, but that’s not him anymore!
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Old Man Daniel deserves better than to be stuck with Marius and frankly, so does Armand. I’m not saying the companionship has to be a perfect, happy ending but I’d like to see it more than what Anne ended up writing. And I gotta say, I do trust the team at AMC’s IWTV to do something great.
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nadiajustbe · 30 days ago
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Underrated HMC moments I've never seen anyone talking about part 2
Howl choosing "H. Jenkins" for the shop's sign wich is the one and only moment in the series he actually uses his legal initials, as "H" can stand for "Howl" and "Howell" in the same time
Lettie being so angry about Prince Justin calling her "a sweet lady" that she said that she would prefer ever Howl over him. Wich is. Telling.
The King assuring that he never pushed Justin off and that everyone who knows them both wouldn't assume that.
Sophie being so RAGED with the whole weedkiller and daffodils situation she wasn't saying A SINGLE FULL WORD for about a page in the least. All of the sounds were like "argh!" and "Sophie gave the wordless glump of range"
The seven-league boots having the funniest description of use ever, as every time someone used it then the effects were simply narrated as "Zip!"
Howl raises the skull and quotes Hamlet directly to it, wich becomes a hundred times funnier when you remember that this Skull is canonically and ironically the only "person" in the room who can understand the reference.
Howl saying "Denmark" in the same sentence. And, again, they're in a fairly tale fantasy word. Sophie has absolutely no clue what to hell is Denmark. For Howl this is the basic knowledge of elementary school level.
Poor Percival being almost KILLED for transforming in the middle of a valley because people thought he's a WEREWOLF.
Poor Percival being STROKED with information of him being made of part of two other people right after experiencing heavy trauma, beheading, physical damages, not really well-planed adopting and moving a house.
Percival describing laying on the shelf and looking at the other parts of himself. What a lovely kids book.
Sophie accidentally making cayenne pepper magical. She would make a great seller-witch career because she doesn't need to know the spell in order to make. She takes random powder. She says it will do the duel fair. It makes the duel fare by making an opponent sneezing uncontrollable (wich is also just a way cayenne pepper affects people lmao)
Sophie's first thoughts after she heard that Howl is leaving the black door knob where it is being "Of course! There's miss. Angorian!'. Sophie, dear, he has a family out there.
Michael, apparently, hiding the money under the same brick Sophie will soon describe in CITA as "the brick where we're hiding money from Howl"
Miss Angorian and Howl acting like the spell in a modern Wales is the most normal thing ever. "That's a spell!!" "Oh yeah of course I suspected that"
“Didn’t know I used to fly up the wing for my university, did you, Mrs. Nose?” “If you were trying to fly, you must have forgotten how,” aka Sophie absolutely not understanding modern world sport terminology
Drunk Howell trying to get through the door MULTIPLE times, bumping on it before "discovering" the door
Calcifer "taking" that huge mention they lived (and almost never visited) in without buying it. It was literally said the owner is just Not Here.
Sophie loosing an acces to her own room. Wich must be really sad.
Witch of the Waste leaning on a swing when literally capturing Howl's family
Additionaly: Howl canonically NOT altering his clothes while rushing to save his family. He was running around in a long-sleeved medieval closes on a welsh playground
Sophie and miss Angorian having a whole fight over the guitar pulling it back and forward while it was making horrible sounds
Sophie literally pushing miss. Angorian off the house using the said guitar
Howl immediatly reacting when someone mentioned that the star Michael tried to catch looks sad.
Scarecrow literally running around with parts of Justin's body on its sticky shoulders for eighty percent of the book's finale
Howl saying he could be "the evil fairy at his own christening" which is probably a reference to the "Sleeping Beaty". Also. rises a question: did Howl HAD a christening. There's a huge chance he actually did.
Ben and Justin just. smiling at each other for enough amount of time for Sophie's narrative to say "If she had paid any attention she would see them". Am I interuppting something???
Lettie hating Howl's courting SO MUCH she asked Percival to bite him several times.
Additionally: Ben apologising to Howl for trying to bite him. That's also probably first time they're interacting
Howl ignoring all of it because sOPHIE HATTER
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picaroroboto · 28 days ago
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in book Wuthering Heights almost everyone is against Heathcliff from the moment he's adopted into the Earnshaw family, insisting that he's "of the devil" because he has darker skin and that him being quiet and sullen is further proof of being evil by nature. When he's mistreated and abused by people who are convinced that he's awful it becomes like a self-fulfilling prophecy when he grows up into a mean and spiteful person, like how you can't be surprised when a kicked dog bites back. The novel is sympathetic to him at times, but it's also told from the perspective of an older Nelly who's grown to hate him as he's gotten worse, and it's also very Victorian, from a time period where it was believed that being in poverty was a sign of moral failing. If you read it in modern times you end up looking at it with knowledge of how cycles of abuse work, and see Heathcliff's character from a sort of nature vs nurture angle. The Limbus version of Heathcliff is basically plucked from the midpoint of the novel before this transformation is complete, his character is in thematic dialogue with that of the original.
In Canto 6 all of the antagonists - Linton, Hindley, Nelly, and the Erlking - all criticize Heathcliff by telling him in different ways that he hasn't changed at all, that he is incapable of changing, that he is and always will be a wretch. The abuse has seeped into the extreme of the Erlking's absolute self-destructiveness, where he's convinced that it would be better if every Heathcliff didn't exist. But he has changed, or at least started to, even the fact that he's returned to Wuthering Heights to confront his past and continues moving forward past everyone trying to tear him down counts for something. At the risk of sounding too sappy our Heathcliff has got something that the book version and seemingly every other Mirror World version doesn't, and that's friends - friends whom he can count on to bring him back when he's out of control, and who are still holding out hope for him.
Canto 6 is also the work of someone who very clearly read and loved the novel looking at the text and asking "Could anything change?". Say, if Heathcliff had stuck around eavesdropping for one second more to that one conversation and heard Cathy saying how much she loved him - well, I suppose things would have turned out better but there wouldn't have been a second half of the story then, but you want to ask this question anyways because you care about the characters. In some ways Canto 6 like a very good fanfiction and not just because it's a secondary work, but because it's striving for a better outcome for the pairing while also having a strong understanding and appreciation for the original, carrying through it's ideas, imagery, and themes while also looking at them differently. And because it takes the concept of AUs seriously.
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showstopper35 · 3 months ago
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the human form (bill cipher nsfw!)
a/n: don’t ask me why I wrote this. I’m losing all self control. may draw at least my bill design later. This could be an x reader or you could pretend it's Ford.
notes/cw: NSFW!! SMUT! oral sex, handjob, cumplay. reader is gn. unfortunately I am a subscriber to Twinkish Bill Cipher, so there’s that.
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"How many holes do you have?" a familiar, grating voice asks as I am buried in a book.
"Excuse me?" I ask, peering at Bill's floating form over the top of my book.
"Holes. You." He points.
"Well, there's my mouth, ears, nose...that's five." I say slowly. "Do tear ducts count?"
"Yes. Seven, so far. But aren't there more holes down there?" He points to my lower region.
"Um..yes. Two or three, depending on the body." I say quietly. "For waste and for...um.."
"Cum?" he asks innocently.
"Yeah. That." I choke. Surprised he knows what that is, considering he refers to humans as "meat sacks".
"What's cum like? Is it yellow too?" he asks, sitting down in the air and crossing his legs.
"No...it's usually white and clear-ish. Why are you asking about...this?" I say tentatively.
"I want to experience more with my human form. You know, like, pain, but also pleasure. It'll help me understand how to manipulate you freaks better. " he muses, smirking somehow without a mouth.
"Oh. I guess that makes sense. Well, you could try...um..making that with your human form, I guess. If you wanted to." I had no idea where this conversation was going.
"How?" comes the new question, making me nearly blush. For all the weird shit he says, talking about sex was somehow weirder.
"You know where your dick is?" I ask. He nods. "You...can stroke it yourself. Or have someone stroke it for you if they want. Or they can use their mouth, or you can put it into someone else's...holes...and pump it until you cum." My voice progressively got quieter and more flustered as I explained to him all the different ways people came. He seemed to get gradually more excited as I went on.
With a flash of blue light, he transformed into his familiar human design. Gangly limbs, crooked mischievous smile, triangular eyepatch, and messy cowlicked hair. He immediately unzips his black pants.
"Woa! Woa! I'm right here!" I startle out of my seat, averting my gaze as he starts pulling on the waistband of his yellow boxers.
"I know. You're gonna help me." He states simply. He reaches over and loosely grabs my wrist. I jerk back, face flushed.
"Absolutely not! I'm not touching you." I all but scream.
"Please? Please? If you do this, I'll give you a small breakthrough in your research. I know you want it." His grip around my wrists tightens--a threat. I stall, a frown on my face.
"Fine." I say, before I can properly regret it.
"Really?" He lets go of my wrist, smiling.
"Just...just quickly. And you better keep your end of the deal."
He waves me away, already slipping into my chair. He points to the ground, and I slowly slide to my knees, my face between his thighs. He slowly pulls his length out of his boxers. His dick is relatively skinny, like the rest of him, but he definitely gave himself a generous length when designing this body.
"Are...you sure about this?" I ask, soft. He nods, watching me with intense fascination and almost greed. With that permission, I gently wrap a hand around the hilt of his length, slowly stroking up and down. He instantly flinches against my touch, and I can tell by his tension that it takes a lot for him to not pull away.
"Just tell me if you want to stop." I whisper, before kissing the top of his dick. I lick the beads of precum, a slight smile forming at my lips at its salty taste and the shiver that went up through his body. I place my whole lips around the head, sucking down and up in slow motions. I enjoy Bill's trembling, especially when he briefly closes his eyes.
I suck more, licking a thick stripe along the bottom of his cock, enjoying the soft whimper that escaped his mouth. He looked away, visibly embarrassed, but he runs a hand through my hair before tugging on it.
"Enjoying this?" I murmur, kissing the side of his dick. He just growled in response, his long, serpentine tongue flicking out between his lips. I feel his thighs twitch, shuddering. He's probably close.
I pump my hand around his cock harder, nearly choking as I try to fit more of it into my mouth with each suck. I go faster and faster, tears pricking at the edges of my vision. Finally, with a violent jerk, his hips buck into my face and he yanks on my hair so hard I whine. A nearly painful shudder runs through his thighs as hot cum spills into my mouth. I pull back, letting it drip onto my chin.
Slowly, still twitching, he reaches down to me and swipes at the cum on my chin, sticking his fingers into his mouth. "Salty." he comments, though it doesn't look like he hates it. He then wipes the rest of it onto my neck.
"Well? How was it?" I ask, touching his dick once again to cover my hand in cum. He takes my wrist and licks my palm, then presses my hand to his chest.
"I...I liked it. I see why it makes you ugly freaks go crazy." He sighs, leaning back, licking more of my fingers and ruffling my hair with his other hand.
"I'm glad. We aren't all bad, hmm?" I laugh, kissing his cock once more before standing up.
"No...not all bad."
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