#Just casually looking through the fantasy section

[mindmeld1000]

Nothing prepared me to see ABO stories just out in the wild on a Saturday morning

[myfictionaldreams]

Day 14: Uniform - Natasha Romanoff

Summary: You worked for SHIELD and had a huge crush on Natasha, so what do you do when she corners you one day, begging for your help as her zipper is broken and she's struggling to remove her uniform.

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, anxious!reader, mutual pining, kissing, flirting, fingering, oral

A.N: Sorry this is a day late!

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“I need your help”, came the sultry feminine voice from your bedroom door, completely snapping you out of the fantasy world you were currently daydreaming about from the book in your hand.

You knew who was there before turning in her direction in shock and surprise. “Help? Me? You need me?” your cheeks warmed at your noticeable stutter with questioning as you looked at the beautiful red-haired woman standing at your door. Natasha Romanoff was smirking at you with her hand on her hip and wearing the tight-fitting black widow suit, recently returning from a mission. She looked dangerous and deadly, but from what you could see, none of her weapons were attached to her anymore, even though she was a weapon. 

Natasha tilted her head to the side, her eyes flicking across the room, taking in every detail of your bedroom, and you wished you had cleaned up before she arrived. Standing nervously from your bed, your book is thrown onto the bedside drawer without marking the page with the urgency to give the woman your attention.

She doesn’t say anything; she just continues to look at you with her piercing eyes before nodding her head in the opposite direction, a sign that she wants you to follow her down the hall. You were a SHIELD agent and are currently staying at the Avengers headquarters as you continue to train for missions. You’d made some good friends here and enjoyed finally being able to use your skills for something that mattered.

This was all until you realised that the Avengers themselves actually lived there, not just the agents. You assumed they had their own homes for privacy, but this was not the case, so day after day, you had to see people like Natasha who could casually walk into your bedroom. Your crush on the Avengers was rampant, having admired her since before even joining the institute. Who wouldn’t find her attractive? She was among the most fierce and beautiful women you’d ever seen.

Natasa, ever the spy, was well aware of the effect she had on others and, most of the time, enjoyed shooting down anyone who attempted to flirt with her, walking away without a glance back at them. But not you. Never you. It is evident to everyone who worked at the  Avengers headquarters that you had a deep-seated crush on Natasha, from the fleeting glances out of the corner of your eyes or how you would stammer and stutter over your words when she was close by. You were fascinated with her, but rather than being a strong, independent woman, you resorted to being a nervous wreck, hardly even looking her in the eye because you were so anxious to talk to the beautiful woman.

This only became a fun game for Natasha, who found your crush incredibly endearing, cute even and found any excuse possible to try to talk to you, even adding your name to missions so that she knew you were close by. The more time she spent with you, the more she developed her crush; she was just better at hiding it. It was a fun little game at your expense, and today, Natasha was hoping it would be the end to it all, bored with the teasing.

Natasha walked confidently down the hall, through a set of double doors and into the Avengers section of the building. You nearly tripped over your feet, trying to look around at the area you’d not been to before she halted in front of a door, entered a key code and walked in. The weapons and expensive dress decorating the indicted where she’d taken you. You paused on the threshold to her bedroom, unsure if she meant for you to follow her in here, but she urgently waved you further so she could close the door.

Hiding your trembling fingers behind your back, you turned towards Natasha, your eyes wandering above her head as you couldn’t stomach looking into her beautiful face. “So, um, what do you need help with, Miss Romanoff?”

Natasha tried not to grin at the formal way you addressed her. “It’s pretty embarrassing, actually”, she began, her posture changing completely as her shoulders hunched slightly inwards whilst curling some of her red hair behind her ears to appear as if she was embarrassed. “My zip snapped during the mission, and now, I can’t remove my uniform, and the material has been specially made, so I can’t just cut it off”.

Your mouth suddenly filled with saliva as you automatically glanced at where her zipper stopped, just above her cleavage. Once you realised you were staring, you quickly looked back down to the ground, finding the carpet incredibly interesting all of a sudden.

“Why are you asking me for help and not the seamstress?” you asked when you finally found the courage to find your voice.

“The seamstress doesn’t work on Saturdays, and you’re one of the only people I trust here, so I need to hold the two pieces of material together at the top, and you somehow shimmy the zip down”.

There was only white noise blasting through your head at her request, and without giving yourself time to overthink, you closed the distance between each other. The tips of your shoes brushed against hers as you lifted your fingers to grab the zip buckle. Natasha could see the tremor in your fingertips as she grabbed the two sections of material and tried to squeeze them together.

It was difficult at first to grab the metal, especially as your hands began to sweat, but ever so slowly, the zip descended lower, inch by inch. More of her skin began to be revealed. Her cleavage, her sternum, then lower over her navel until the very edge of her public area, which, to your amazement, was neatly trimmer and a brunette shade.

As you comprehended what you were actually looking at, you stepped away, hands rubbing at your sides like you’d made the gravest mistake possible, scared that Natasha would be upset for revealing so much of her body. However, the assassin was unphased and began to pull her arms from her uniform, pushing the black material off her shoulders, down her waist and hips and then kicking off her shoes and attire, leaving it in a pile on the floor.

“You… You don’t wear any underwear beneath your uniform”, you whispered beneath your breath in awe before quickly looking at that entertaining patch of carpet on the floor, realising you’d been staring at her naked body. Your entire body heated with embarrassment and arousal as you crossed one leg over the other to try and squeeze your thighs together to get rid of the uncomfortable feeling. 

Natasha shrugged at your observation, “I find that the uniform is so tight that I can’t wear any underwear without the seams being seen, so it’s easier to go without”. Nodding your head at her explanation, you continued looking anywhere but at her. Natasha took a dainty step towards you, her smile growing more prominent, “Are you afraid of nakedness?”

You make a point of forcing yourself to look at her whilst folding your arms over your chest. “No, of course not. I just thought it would be polite to give you some privacy”.

Natasha bites the inside of her lips to stop from just outright grinning and laughing in your face. “I don’t mind. You can look”, she quips whilst raising one of her eyebrows suggestively.

You weren’t sure if this was a test, but as your eyes lowered, you thanked whatever gods were listening to this one moment that you would remember for the rest of your life. She was well toned, given her lifestyle and training methods, and scars littered over her body, which was evidence of her work as stabbings or gunshots clearly created them. You were mesmerised by her beauty, from her perfectly trimmed mound, her toned abs, and up to her round, full breasts.

Until that is, something piqued your interest, “Do you have your nipples pierced?”

Natasha tipped her head back and laughed, looking down at her perked nipples with a shrug of her shoulders, making them jiggle with the movement. “Yeah, they’ve made me quite sensitive, but I thought it would be fun. Plus, they’re super cute”.

“You are”, you say, admiring her breasts, but then your eyes go wide in shock, realising what you’d just said and the soft tone you’d said it in. “I mean, they are- the piercings are -I didn’t mean to sound inappropriate, sorry. I didn’t mean- I just- I wasn't, um-”

Natasha took a step forward, closing the gap entirely so that you could now feel the warmth of her skin; she was that close. Her beautiful, naked body within your bubble, you never wanted it to leave.

“It’s ok, I know what you meant. You’re cute when you’re all embarrassed”.

“I…I am?” you say, looking at her like she had grown another head because there was no way Natasha Romanoff just called you cute in any sense of the word, especially when you’re whining away anxiously.

“You are. Might be why I asked you to come and help me rather than the others. Nothing like a cute girl helping to undress me”. You flush at the obvious flirtatious advances, trying your hardest to continue looking into her forest-green eyes that seem to delve deep into your soul. “You’re even more cuter when you’re like this. Reacting more to my words than my naked body. God, I could just eat you right up.” Natasha lifts her slender fingers and runs the back of them over your eyes and around your ear. “I’ve been watching you, y’know?. It's so hard to talk to a cute girl like you when you’re running away from me every time I enter the room”.

“I’m just nervous”, you say and instantly chastise yourself for stating the obvious.

It doesn’t, phas Natasha thought as her other hand gently grasped yours, interlocking your fingers as she stated, “I know. You don’t have to be nervous, Sugar. I only want good things, I promise”.

She lifts the hand that is holding hers, kissing the palm ever so softly and then moves it so you’re holding her face. “You don’t have to be nervous to do anything with me”, Natasha continues, “I want you to feel safe with me. I want to get to know you on a personal and physical way, if you understand what I’m alluding to”.

Your mouth didn’t want to work, with the worry of just blurting out that you were in love with her, so you nodded your head to show your understanding. Being brave, you allowed your fingers to explore her sharp cheekbones, admiring the delicateness of her skin and shocked when she even began to nuzzle into your palm.

“Can I touch you?” she asks sincerely, her eyes wide with hope and yet restrained, not wanting to frighten you off. As your fingers brush through her silky hair, you nod your head, wanting her very much to touch you in any way possible.

Natasha lifts both hands to press against your hairline, exploring your face like she was trying to map every inch of you. Lower she descended, over your cheeks, your nose and finally your lips, pulling on the bottom one with her thumb, which had your eyes automatically dropping to look at hers.

You want to kiss so severely that it almost makes you ache and beg. It seemed Natasha also knew this and had another idea in mind as she implored in the most innocent voice, “Touch me lower”.

You do as instructed, over her jaw and down her long neck, then press her collarbones again, wondering if this is the area where you should stop. However, Natasha raises her eyebrow again in question, so you take that as your queue to explore lower. Your eyes never leave hers as your fingers run down the centre of her sternum, directly between her breasts, until they stop at the base of her sternum.

Deciding to be brave for once in your life, your fingers skimmed the underside of her heavy breasts, and you watched in delight as her breath hitched, chest leaning into the touch. You take this as a good sign and reach for her hard nipples that have a simple metal bar through the centre.

Natasha groans, even though all you’ve done is graze over the bundle of nerves. “So sensitive”, she explains and reminds you of her predicament.

Pulling your hand away, thinking you’d done something she didn’t want, you apologise quickly, “Sorry!”

However, with her lightning-fast reaction, Natashas quickly grabs your retreating hands and pulls them back to cup her again. “I like it. I like everything you do to me and want to do”.

Before you can overthink anymore, Natasha is pressing her face towards yours, eyes closing and lips connecting with yours. Your whole body reacts instantly, leaning closer and mewling into her mouth, pushing harder. Her lips were so plump they felt like soft, warm clouds against your face, and you’re obsessed, crazy for more, never wanting this moment to stop.

But of course, it does as Nat pulls back for a second, and you’re trying to chase after her with your lips, which causes the woman to giggle. “Can I take this off?” she asks, pulling on the bottom of your shirt. You nod, heart beating so hard on your chest you were sure she would be able to hear. Lifting your arms above your head, Natasha removes the article of clothing and begins to admire your black bra. “I love this”. She eyes it for a second before realising that it unclasps from the front. Natasha internally praised you for being so beautiful as she reached to undo the clasp, exposing your breasts to her.

She moans in wonderment at your beauty, cursing herself for waiting this long before making a move. Natasha couldn’t wait any long as her head dipped to lick across your nipple, causing your back to arch to press her face closer, and your fingers gripped into her hair to hold her there.

Something seemed to snap in you, whether the confidence blooming in your core or the anxiety melting away. Either way, you were in this situation, and there was no way you were letting it go to waste. As the red-haired woman sealed her lips around your other nipple, licking and sucking the bud into her mouth, you swiftly pulled her off by your hands behind in her hair, but only to kiss her deeply and passionately.

Whether it was your enthusiasm to kiss her or Natasha’s excitement that you were beginning to feel more confident, something knocked the two of you back so that you were now led on her perfectly made bed. Natasha doesn’t waste a second and is climbing on top of you, straddling your waste with her naked body now hovering over yours. You touch her everywhere now, her thighs, over her arse to pull her hips closer, up her back to then cup her head.

It was everything you wanted and more; couldn’t get enough of her taste, smell, and warmth. Everything about her, you wanted it every day, all the time. She was sweet and delicate with you, but eventually, Natasha too was becoming fevering with her touches and needing more of you.

“I wanna taste you”, she admits against your lips, just as her tongue dares to peek before yours.

“Are you sure?” you asked uncertainly.

Natasha laughed against your mouth, moving to kiss down your throat over the areas that had your toes curling as she confirmed, “Yes, I’m sure I want to eat you out.”

Your only answer was a grin that caused your cheeks to ache with how giddy you felt. Natasha kissed your lips once more before shuffling down your body, leaving a trail of open mouth kisses, tasting every area of your skin she could reach, and spending special particular attention on your breasts. Teasing and sucking on them until you begged her to move lower with how intense your arousal was becoming. 

Natasha noted this, deciding that the next time the two of you were intimate, she wanted to see if she could make you cum just by nipple stimulation. Lower she moved, every touch was gentle and calm, even as she unbuttoned your jeans and began to lower them as well as your underwear down your legs, with the help of you lifting your hips, her fingers still were careful about where she touched.

She then began her journey up, kissing and licking all the places that were most sensitive, like your inner knee and thighs, until she was face to face with the area causing you the most ache.

Her eyes met yours, and a devilish smirk on her lips made you wonder what you had gotten yourself in for as her mouth met your more intimate areas. You broke eye contact first, but only because your body jolted, and you had to force your back to arch, spreading your legs further on the bed as your head tipped back.

Natasha's lips were just as plump and soft against your pussy as they were against your mouth. She kissed you there first, savouring the warmth and liquid that had already leaked from your cunt. The noises you were already whimpering were like music to her ears, so desperate and needy.

Carefully, her tongue licked long strips up your folds before adding pressure and parting them, moving deeper until she was poking at your hole that was already contracting with your arousal around nothing. She contemplated for a moment letting her tongue fuck you, but instead, she paid particular attention to your throbbing clit. Tentative, agonisingly slow circles did the tip of her tongue move around the bud before she pressed the flat front of her tongue and gave it a long lick.

“Natasha!” you cried out, hand moving to grip her hair to hold her there. Nat thought it was adorable seeing you falling apart like this so quickly. She hummed against your pussy which caused vibrations to purr into the nerves, which caused your thighs to tremble and clench with the stimulation.

Nat tickled the backs of your thighs to get them to relax again before travelling the length of the limb until the area where your tongue was still pleasuring. Her middle finger circled your eagerly awaiting hole, and as she sucked on the bundle of nerves, she inserted the finger carefully. In and out and moved before adding a second finger, beginning to stretch your cunt. Your hips began rolling of their own accord, desperate to match the pace of Natasha’s tongue and fingers, which had just started to curl to press against the sensitive spot inside you.

“That feels so good, right there!” Natasha didn’t plan on stopping making you feel this good, but she did contemplate just how pretty you’d look after being edged a few times. She just added that to the lengthening list of things she wanted to try with you in the future.

You had to bite your lower lip as your cries of joy were beginning to echo around the bedroom, still holding onto the red hair and essentially fucking yourself on her fingers and tongue. Opening your eyes, you looked down at the green eyes that were watching your every move.

“Please kiss me”, you asked desperately with a slight quiver in your voice as you were getting closer to orgasming.

Natasha grins, licking her lips and crawling back up your body whilst still curling her fingers, her thumb pressing and rolling your clit instead of her tongue. Her mouth was hungry against yours, forcing your lips wider so she could stroke your mouth's crevices, making sure you could taste yourself from her.

You reach out for her, wanting to feel her body just as badly as she wants to hear you cum, but she has other ideas. The hand you reached for her with was held firmly against the bed as Natasha shook her head. “This is just about you today; there will be so much more time for me in the future. Just enjoy this, Sugar”.

You could have melted at the pet name she’d picked and rushed forward to kiss her feverishly one more, hips rolling and working in time with the curl of her fingers and thumb. She was making you feel so good, expertly touching your body, gripping the back of your head to hold your close.

Resting her temple on yours, she looked at you with glazed eyes and demanded, “Cum for me; I want to see you cum on my fingers, pretty girl”. Her words had your core tightening in arousal, your mouth gaping open to gasp and share the same air as her she was that close to you. “That’s it, you’re doing so well for me. I know you’re close. I can feel it on my fingers; you’re so wet for me, so tight, Sugar. Cum for me”.

Your body convulsed as your orgasm rocketed through your very centre, thighs trembling, arms struggling to hold you up as your pussy squeezed in flutters around her fingers. She didn’t stop her rocking motion; those sweet curls of her two fingers, not under you, had sagged back onto the bed to catch your breath.

Carefully, she eased her fingers out of you, putting on a broad display of her licking your fingers and dramatically moaning at the taste before lying down next to you, resting her head on her elbow.

“Do you wanna go and get some food?  There’s a cute Italian place about half an hour from here”, Natasha asks casually whilst stroking your cheek with the hand that had just been between your legs.

“What? Like a date?” you asked with the tremor returning to your voice as you stared at her with widening eyes.

Natasha takes one look at you and laughs, tipping her head back with how funny she found it. “I’ve just licked you out and had you cumming on my fingers, and you’re getting nervous about a date? You’re too fucking cute, Sugar. Yes, it’s a date. What do you say?”

Your cheeks heat at her amusement, but you’re soon joining her with smiling, nodding your head and saying, “Yes, I’d love to go on this date with you”.

[shadow4-1]

(Part 2 of this post.)

After letting Soap set everything up, on his next leave of absence, Ghost finally gets to meet the plus size escort he's been having fantasies about.

However, she's only interested in laying down some ground rules.

-

To show he was serious, for their first meeting she made Ghost rent out the smoking section of a privately owned Café. It's a quaint little joint; part bookstore, part coffee shop. Cost him less than two hundred quid for the whole hour. Ghost likes the privacy and the better service - his coffee cup hasn't gone unfilled. He wonders why he's never thought of doing it before. Plus, he can have a fag without someone bothering him about the smell. The booth is in the back of the store, so leaving his face completely uncovered doesn't feel nearly as uncomfortable either.

For anyone else the mask stays on. Well, at least some form of mask. Nowadays, when deep in public territory, he sticks to a surgical mask. Still attracts some curious gazes, but after the new-age plague passed he's been left well enough alone.

Besides, the bird's a civilian through and through. She's probably used to white collar Johns with soft hands and faces. He's decidedly the opposite and doesn't want to scare her off. At a time like this he knows hiding his face would make him seem less trustworthy. She should at least be allowed to see what she's working with. He knows he's not wholly unattractive, but if compared to Soap, well he wouldn't blame her for sticking up her nose. Hell, it'd be no skin off his back.

He's early as per usual. Doesn't want to keep her waiting on him. Time is money and all that. The coffee shop staff seemed relieved at the lack of customers. Behind him, he can hear one of the servers taking an order from a customer. That's when he hears a sound that makes his ears prick up.

The sound of heels against the tile.

Subconsciously, he straightens himself. Consciously, he makes no move to attempt to preen or better his appearance in any way. What she sees is what she gets and vice versa. That's what this meeting is for anyway. It's a time to lay it all on the table.

"Hello."

Her voice is soft and sweet. He releases a breath he didn't realize he was holding. When he looks up he's taken off guard by the quality of her facial features. In Johnny's pictures she looked average. But now, he realizes that perhaps the flash really dulled down her beautiful features - mainly her delicious looking lips. He swallows hard at the thought of his cock maybe getting inside that blowjob perfect mouth.

"You must be Simon."

She places down a mid-size purse on the booth seat across from him. She's dressed in business casual - a white button up and some form fitting slacks. Her makeup is subdued, her hair lightly styled. She looks completely natural. Ghost finds she's checking off all the boxes he didn't even realize he had.

She offers her hand and he shakes it. Her nails aren't painted but have a natural sheen and length. And while her palms are soft, her grip is sturdy. It's obvious that she knows how to uphold herself professionally. He already starts to feel good about this impending arrangement.

She introduces herself as a "Miss Care". It's a fake name designed to give her a simple, yet recognizable trait. He supposes her self-chosen moniker isn't far off from a callsign. Not that she'd have any idea what that even is.

"S' a pleasure." He bows his head at her in respect.

He doesn't miss the way she blushes for a second before taking the seat across from him. She opens her mouth to say something, but is rudely interrupted by a server placing a menu down in front of her. At least, he finds it quite rude. She just beams at the server and politely declines the menu. She orders a hot Chai latte with a slice of banana bread. She's obviously a regular at this place. It makes sense she'd chose it as a meeting spot.

The server scurries off, and for a second both he and her take each other in. He admires the softness of her upper body, the curvature of her breasts that are cradled lovingly by her brassiere. She seems to be reading his face, for what he can't say. Whatever she finds she seems to like based on her more confident smile.

"Johnny wasn't lying when he said you're built like a brick shithouse." She giggles.

Despite himself, Ghost can't help the flood of heat to his face. He could throttle that boy. He likes her laugh more than enough to quell that urge though. He finds himself already admiring her confidence to even speak to him like that. He knows he's intimidating.

"If you don't mind me asking," She offers before pausing. He looks at her expectanly, silently urging her to go on. "What are you looking for exactly? Not to be rude but, I'm a little shocked someone as handsome as you would be interested in my services."

A long beat of silence fills the air. It's a bit awkward but Ghost needs a second to think of his response. Not only is he caught off guard by her admonition, but how could he tell this girl he can't find it within himself to build relationship anymore, much less with a woman? Another beat of silence passes and she offers him a sheepish smile.

"Sorry. I-"

"Don't have time for a bird. Jus' looking fer a distraction." He admits, cutting her off. "Johnny talked a big game 'bout ya. Figured I'd give you a shot."

She stutters out a chuckle. His words have caught her off guard. He knows he sounds full of himself. He is full of himself. Her admitting she thinks he's attractive helps alot with his ego.

"Well, has he told you anything about my services other than I'm good at what I do?"

"No."

She goes into her purse and pulls out a semi-thick docket of paper. The headline on top let's him know exactly what it is.

"A rental agreement?" He muses.

"Mhm. I'm sure you're aware my services aren't exactly...legal on their own. So, just to stay on the right side of the law, I make sure my contract states you're renting my villa for the weekends you decide to visit." She says, flipping through the papers. "Besides, you are renting out my villa. It'll be just me and you."

He admires her business plan. A contract like that keeps her from getting scammed, and it has the added benefit of running off losers. Normally, if a John decided not to pay her for her "services" she'd be shit out of luck. This way, she'd be legally able to receive his funds under the guise of being just a landlord.

"Smart."

"Thank you."

She pulls out a pen, uncaps it, then marks on certain lines throughout the packet. She then offers him the pen.

"Wait, sorry."

He places the pen down.

"What experience are you interested in having?"

Ghost just stares at her. He doesn't really understand her question.

"Are you looking for the full girlfriend experience? Or something else?" She asks.

The server comes back with her tea and snack. She thanks them with a bright, beautiful smile Ghost wishes was directed his way. She tries to go for a sip of her hot drink but it's too hot. She licks the foam off her lips with a crinkled nose. Ghost can't help the way his lips quirk up in the corners at the sight.

"Thought that's all you offered." He admits.

"Oh, no, not at all. I offer quite a few services. All vanilla of course." She says as she goes for a piece of banana bread. "The girlfriend experience is the most popular but I can also play the part of a wife, step-sister, or mommy. Most of my clients like to start off our first session with the best friend experience. Just so we can to get used to each other without any weird tension."

Ghost is a bit taken by her straightforwardness. He knew she'd be open and honest, but hearing her talk about what role she'd be willing to play in his sex life makes him swallow hard. He doesn't know what character he wants her to play either. Every fantasy but "mommy" sounds terribly appealing. The "bestfriend" approach does sound like a good place to start. He wants sex, needs sex, but he also knows he himself might not feel the most comfortable to start with it right away.

"Friends first."

She finally gives him that stunning smile. It falters after a moment and she gives him a bit of an apologetic look.

"One last thing before we sign. We've got to go over our boundaries." She says. This time she's finally able to drink her tea. She swallows down the liquid and places it on the table. "What are some of the things you aren't comfortable with me doing."

There's another long beat of silence as Ghost thinks. He really can't think of a damn thing he wouldn't want this fuckable, pretty girl to do for him. He keeps thinking before realizing maybe he's wrong.

"Nothin' anal. N' no kissin'."

She seems confused.

"No kissing? On the mouth or all over?"

He was only thinking about the mouth. Not that he doesn't want to tongue fuck her mouth, but he thinks a degree of separation would be good to start with. The idea that she'd be willing to kiss him other places, well...the it excites him more than it should.

"Just the mouth."

"Okay." She nods. "No anal play and no kissing on the mouth."

She snacks for another moment.

"And you, Love?" He asks.

"Ooh, I like it when you call me that." She blushes again, wiping crumbs off her bottom lip with a napkin.

Ghosts lips quirk up again. He's starting to really like her attitude and sense of humor. And but of course he would. Johnny recommended her.

"Well, my boundaries are as follows:" She begins, her voice even and measured as if she's given this spiel more than enough times. "No choking, no leaving bruises - that includes hickies, no anal without lube or having told me beforehand, and no slurs or degrading names."

Ghost finds her list a little long but he understands it. He feels a bit of righteous fire in his belly at the thought of her Johns pushing her to the point of even having to make those discretions.

"Understood." He nods.

She smiles up at him and then opens the packet again. She points to the already marked lines and has him sign. As he goes along she tells him about each page of the docket. Once everything is signed she hands him a small business card.

"That's the amount for our first session. Please wire the funds to the account listed on the bottom before Friday night at the latest." She says. "If you don't, I won't be able to get everything ready for Saturday."

He nods, taking in the information on the card. Her prices would be exorbitant for a normal man, but Ghost is no normal man. He makes more than enough money to see her every weekend if he wanted to.

"Please don't be late." She taps the section of the card with the time listed. "And make sure you bring a copy of your up to date physical."

Ghost reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out two sheets of paper stapled together. She mulls over the document before grinning at him.

"Well, well, look at you. Already prepared. I think you and I are going to get along just fine." She flirts. She bats her lashes at him and it takes every fiber of his being not to reach over the table and shove his tongue down her throat.

With that she continues to snack on her drink and bread. She offers no more conversation until she's done. Ghost is more than okay with that. He's content to watch her body. He finds he really likes the way her breasts shift with her every breath.

"I'm sure you don't like surprises, so I'll give you an idea on how I schedule my visits. If you want to change anything up let me know." She says. "I'm flexible."

The flirt is not lost on Ghost. He shifts in his seat, feeling heat trickle into his cock. This girl wants to play with him, test his resolve. He hates that it's already cracking.

"When you arrive I'll greet you at the door and bring you inside. I always like to have a meal waiting for you. Afterwards, we can watch TV on the couch together or play some video games? Or I can read to you, if you'd like." She offers. "If you want, I can give you a massage. Or we can always call it a night if you get sleepy. I'll show you my room."

Her excitement is palpable, almost conspiratorial. She sounds like a girl going over her plans for her first sleepover. He supposes she's not far off. It would be their first sleepover. It would also be his first sleepover. He's never had one.

Her excitement is replaced with a nervous smile. It takes Ghost a second to realize why. He didn't realize his facial expression had changed into something a bit more pointed. He curses himself internally, tries to soften his gaze, but the damage has been done.

"If you want to have sex at any time, just say so. The first time around, I usually like for us to get a shower together." She hums. "It'll give me a chance to give you a little onceover before we start. Also, it's just really great foreplay."

While he adores the idea of a sudsy fuck in the shower he also feels like a fool. He's so used to his face being covered he's unused to controlling his facial features. He's used to letting his emotions show because no one can see. He realizes that he needs to be more careful from now on.

"We'll play it by ear." He mutters, his own mood soured. For her credit she doesn't seem to take it to heart.

"Well, no matter what we get into on Saturday I just want to let you know I'm excited." She smiles. "It's been so nice to meet you, Simon."

She tucks the paper docket and the pen back into her purse. She then cleans up her plates and napkins. Just before she readies herself to stand she looks up at him with her pretty little eyes.

"Can I kiss you goodbye on the cheek?"

Her request takes him off guard. He hasn't paid for anything yet. His heart thumps.

"Yeah."

She then stands and leans over the table. Her blouse isn't lowcut but she has enough tits to fill it out. When she leans over he has to stop himself from trying to grope them.

She kisses him sweetly. It's barely a brush of her lips against the rough skin of his cheek. His cock twitches to its full length in his trousers. If he was any farther gone he'd fuck her right there over the dishes.

She smiles down at him, lashes fluttering, purse in hand. She gives his shoulder a comforting squeeze.

"See you Saturday."

[gooppoo]

imagine you’re braiding jake’s hair and find out he has a hair pulling kink 😫

this. this is exactly what I'm talking abt.

tugging along.

part 2

part 3

Requests Closed!

mdni.

It was supposed to be something casual. He had become a true warrior, and you'd be damned if his hair was the reason something horrible happened to him. Besides - you were good at it.

"Sit."

He crossed his legs and seated himself in front of you. On a small stool, you opened your legs and tugged Jake into the space between them. Your items for braiding were ready on a small table beside you, prepped for work.

Since becoming a true Na'vi, Jake's hair had grown substantially, and had gone through many phases of styles, but today he decided - "Can I get those small braids all over-" he motioned to the crown of his head.

"Do you want them against your scalp?" You took his soft hair in your hands.

Pondering what that style might look like, he nodded and snuggled between your legs again.

Starting, you parted his hair with a comb, gelling out different sections where the braids would trace along his head. Then the actual braiding began. Your fingers were nimble and dexterous to get the style tight for longevity.

When you got to a particularly sensitive spot of his head, he would hiss and hum lowly.

"Am I hurting you?"

"Nah-" Jake clenched his jaw, "Don't worry about it."

And he meant that. Because if you did, you might notice the absurd tent pitched beneath his loincloth. It would've been a surprise for both of you.

Jake didn't knew this was a scratch you could itch. He's had his hair done plenty of times, but this time with the way you tugged and yanked, it registered more as pleasure than pain. Each time the sensation of his hair being pulled rippled down his body, his length twitched shamefully. His mind couldn't help but imagine grappling for dominance and your hands rooted in his strands, playing dirty-

"Are you sure you're alright Jake?" His groaning was very obvious, but to you it registered as discomfort.

"Mmhmm."

One point, when your reached further along down his head, he purposefully jerked forward to simulate the fantasy in his mind more accurately. You smacked his head and yanked him back into place; at this he yelped and had to bite back a moan that would've definitely come off as provocative.

"Stop squirming, it'll make it worse."

Oh - that's just what he wanted.

When you were done, Jake was awkwardly waddling away and grumbling his thank you to hide the face that he came all over his lap.

[rashoumon-homo]

Hands (Chuuya x Reader)

Chuuya x Trans Male Reader, NSFW

-> Content Warnings: trans male reader, oral (reader receiving), fingering (reader receiving), amab terms for afab parts, “wetness” is mentioned but otherwise no fem terms

-> 1.7k words

Author’s Note: this was my first time writing trans smut and it was really really hard for me. Hopefully this is beneficial and euphoria-inducing to someone out there who doesn’t get to see themself represented in reader insert fanfic often.

NSFW CONTENT AHEAD - READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

The first time you watched Chuuya tug off his gloves, you knew those hands would be the death of you. The smooth skin of his palms, those long, powerful fingers. How might they feel loosely caged around your neck? Slipped under the hem of your shirt, roaming along the expanse of your waist and abdomen?

It was no more than a fantasy; a guilty pleasure of yours. Until, a week or so after you’d started dating, you were walking side by side and he casually grabbed your hand, lacing his fingers into yours. Even with the glove acting as a layer between you, the warmth of his skin seeped through to yours. The muscles in his palms, in each section of his fingers, flexed ever so slightly as you both moved, reminding you of their presence. His hand was smaller than you expected, about the same size as yours. But he was much more confident with it, which lent to the impression it was larger than it was. He’d rubbed his thumb over the back of your hand to relax you, though it had much the opposite effect. The gentle pressure sent shivers down your spine, collecting and pulsing between your legs. It seemed your body wanted to feel that rhythmic, gentle pressure somewhere else.

When he pinned you against the wall and kissed you for the first time, his hands were a significant part of the equation. One held your waist while the other slid from the side of your neck to your jaw, his leg slotted between yours all the while. He pressed his thigh into your throbbing dick as he kissed you, coaxing a small groan from your mouth. Even while kissing, he moved deliberately; never half-assing or doubting his movements for a moment. He was confident. Dominant. Though trapped between the cool brick and his warm body pressing into you, you didn’t feel cornered or afraid; far from it. You wanted more.

Then came the fantasies. You wrote it off as innocent curiosity at first, wondering whether the pads of his fingers would be rough or smooth under the gloves. One thing led to another, and you were imagining his hands sliding over the sensitive part of your waist, squeezing the curve of your ass, pushing your thighs apart to venture between your legs. Those skilled hands would know all the right spots to touch, to press and stroke, to bring you to orgasm. The thoughts themselves were enough to aid you when getting yourself off, at least. At the rate things were going, all he’d have to do is reach for your belt and you’d cum in your pants like a teenager. Luckily for you, you lasted a bit longer when the time came.

You were spread out on his mattress, still dressed, while he stood at the foot of the bed and slipped off his jacket. He eyed you hungrily as he continued to undress, unbuttoning his shirt one button at a time at a deliberately slow pace. You licked your lips and swallowed. When you reached to take off your own clothes, he stopped you.

“I want to unwrap you myself,” he said, eyes trailing up and down your body. He tossed his shirt aside and knelt on the bed between your legs, pushing them to a bent position to give himself more room. He handed you another pillow to prop up your head, looking a little nervous for the first time since you’d met him. “You comfortable, baby?” he asked, resting his hand on your knee.

You nodded. “I’m fine,” you reassured him. “Just really fucking horny.”

Chuuya laughed lightly, now finally reaching for the button on your jeans. “That I can help with.”

You could feel the pressure of his fingers near your groin as he undid the button. Only a couple layers of fabric separated you from his touch. The tug of the zipper was unbearable, sending miniature vibrations through the fabric of your underwear. Nowhere near enough to get off from, but enough to tease you. Without thinking, you bucked up into his touch.

“Ahh, sorry,” you said quickly, hiding your face in embarrassment.

“Hey,” he said softly, pulling your hands away. “Don’t hide, baby. You being eager is a good thing.”

He tugged your pants off and threw them to the side, but hesitated before reaching for the waistband of your boxers. He ran his knuckles lightly over the fabric over your crotch, pressing a little harder at the moist patch you’d left.

“So wet for me already…” he murmured. He glanced up then, and asked, “Is that alright for me to say?”

You nodded, then guided his hand higher to where your dick throbbed against the fabric. “Though, I prefer you to point out how hard I am as a measure of arousal.” He nodded, experimentally petting over it through your boxers.

“As long as you don’t use any words you wouldn’t use for an amab guy, it’s fine,” you reminded him.

“Before I start, are you okay with my fingers inside?” he asked.

“Please,” you said quickly. Then shyly, you added, “Would you be okay with taking off your gloves? I’ve kind of been fantasizing about that for a while.”

Chuuya grinned, then tugged off his gloves with his teeth. And there were his beautiful, slender hands, exposed to the air once more. They reached for your waistband, knuckles just grazing your skin, as he pulled your boxers off.

Chuuya swallowed, eyes wide as he took in the sight before him. “God, that’s sexy,” he breathed.

He gripped the undersides of your thighs to spread them wider, positioning you. Rather than go for your dripping hole first like you expected, he rubbed his thumb along the underside of your dick. It throbbed against his touch, and you let out a short moan. He did it again, eliciting a similar reaction.

“You wanna jerk me off, baby?” you asked with a lazy smile. “Here, try like this.” You pushed his hand aside with your own and curled your finger, showing him how you like to jack off on your own. He copied the motion and pretty soon had the hang of it.

You moaned, arching your back to angle your hips towards him. “So good, baby,” you praised.

Chuuya slid his finger down to your hole and pushed it in with ease. He added another on the next thrust, curling them inside you as he moved them. “So warm,” he murmured.

“More,” you groaned. Your dick ached with need.

Continuing to stroke his fingers inside of you, he took your dick into his mouth. His eyes flicked up to study your reactions as he tried a mix of sucking it and rolling his tongue over it at different intensities.

“Oh fuck,” you moaned. Your breath came out as short gasps as you writhed under his touch. “Feels so fucking good.” Those hands really were magic, the way they pressed into you just right. And his mouth must have been sent from heaven, with how expertly he sucked dick.

Chuuya’s free hand pressed down on your hip to hold you in place. His hips were moving, you noticed, as he grinded against the bed. After a broken moan of yours, he groaned against your dick, sending vibrations shooting through you like lightning.

“Chuuya!” you gasped. A familiar heat started to gather in your groin. Your eyes rolled back and you gripped the sheets so hard your knuckles turned white. “Chuuya… fuck, Chuuya… ‘m gonna-”

Your whole body tensed and you let out a loud cry, clenching down hard on Chuuya’s fingers. He slowed down but continued to fuck you through the orgasm.

He took his mouth off your dick and must have at some point started rambling words of praise because when you came back down, he was murmuring, “…hot like that, the way you look when you cum, you’re doing so good for me baby boy, so perfect.”

You breathed heavily, muscles finally relaxing. Your skin was covered with a sheen of sweat and you felt exhausted but happy. When you looked down at Chuuya, he was looking back at you with such adoration it made you feel shy all over again.

“Taking my fingers out now,” he warned. He slid them out, then quickly grabbed a tissue to catch the majority of the cum dripping from them. He gave you a kiss on the forehead, then said, “I’m gonna wash my hands and then I’ll come clean you up, ‘kay?”

You nodded, and closed your eyes. There was the sound of the bathroom sink once, then twice, then the pressure of him sitting on the bed alerted you to his return. He gently cleaned you up with a warm washcloth, then set clean pajamas at the end of the bed.

“You should probably go piss before you fall asleep,” he said. “I heard it’s important.”

“You did your research,” you said, surprised.

“Well, yeah,” he said, as if it was obvious. “I wanna take good care of my boyfriend. If that means doing some extra reading, I’ll do it.”

Your eyes crinkled into a smile. “Babe! When I get back from the bathroom, I want cuddles, so get ready.”

In the bathroom, you changed into the pajamas Chuuya had lent you, smiling at your reflection in the mirror like an idiot. And true to your word, as soon as you came back to the bedroom, you hopped in beside him and snuggled into his arms. The comforter had been replaced with a new one - luckily all the mess had been on top of it instead of the sheets.

Chuuya kissed you as you settled into the sheets, stroking the back of your head lovingly.

“Thank you for taking such good care of me- for everything really. I’m sorry I didn’t get you off too,” you said.

“Oh, uh…” he said, blushing. “I kinda… came while sucking you off?”

Your eyes widened and you grinned. “You did not!”

Chuuya shrugged sheepishly.

“And here I thought I was gonna be the one to cum before even getting touched,” you snickered.

“Hey!” he said, shoving your arm.

You caught him in a kiss, and the two of you laughed together until you fell asleep tangled in each other’s arms.

Back to Masterlist

[mxnsterbabe]

Male Harpy/Female Reader SFW Wordcount: 2,918 Commissions | Ko-fi | Masterlist

You catch a cute and bashful harpy in the book shop one day. Later, at a book signing for your favourite author, you realise they’re one and the same.

In the softly lit maze of the bookshop, you meandered between the shelves, your fingertips grazing the spines of countless books. The smell of paper and binding glue filled the air. This was your retreat, the place you went to when the world got too much.

As you approached the fantasy section, your excitement grew; today was the release of a novel you'd eagerly awaited. Just as you reached out to grab the last copy from the shelf, another hand got there simultaneously, lightly brushing against yours.

"Oops, sorry about that," came a light-hearted apology from beside you.

You looked up to see a harpy, all dark auburn feathers and curly red hair. He was beautiful—sharp features softened by gentle brown eyes, a nervous smile playing on his lips.

"No worries," you responded, your initial embarrassment giving way to curiosity. "Looks like we have the same taste."

His smile widened. "I guess we do. I’m Antal," he said, holding out the book to you. "You take the last copy, I was only looking.”

“Oh, I couldn’t—”

“Please?”

His hand extended, offering you the book. A bright orange cover stared back up at you, a phoenix with her wings spread wide.

“Please, take it,” he insisted, claws gently curled over the cover.

You hesitated, the politeness ingrained in you bubbling to the surface. “Are you sure? I mean, we both spotted it at the same time.”

Antal’s smile didn’t waver as he pushed the book a little closer to you. “Absolutely. I hope you enjoy it,” he added, and you swore his cheeks tinged pink beneath the feathers.

Accepting the book, you couldn’t help but smile back. “Thanks, then. I appreciate it.”

As he watched you slide the book into your bag, a thoughtful look crossed his face. “Any other books you’re hunting for today?” he asked, a curious tilt to his head. His dark eyes were enormous, with big pupils that made him look a little owlish.

Was he an owl?

Shaking your head, you said, “well, I’ve been trying to get through all the works of Kristoff Varga,” you replied, holding up the new book. It was the latest in a series of four, but there were dozens of other books written by him. “He’s my favourite at the moment, I just can’t get enough.”

Antal’s eyes lit up, cheeks reddening even more. Dammit, it was too cute. “You like his other books?”

“I like them all so far.”

“Which one’s your favorite?” Antal inquired. He didn’t seem to realise that he was leaning in, closer and closer.

You thought for a moment, trying to ignore how close he was. You could taste the coffee on his breath, feel his feathers tickling your shoulder. It made it very difficult to think.

After a moment you said, “I love Silver Skies. You know, the one about the dragon and the orc princess.”

“I love that one too!”

As you and Antal meandered through the aisles, he began to point out other authors whose works he said were similar to Kristoff Varga. You happily ambled alongside him, listening to his smooth, deep voice.

"If you enjoy Varga, you might also like Helena Rook. Her trilogy about the war between night creatures and humans has that same worldbuilding," he suggested, pulling a book with a dark, moody cover from the shelf.

You took the book, flipping it over to read the blurb on the back. Antal's recommendations sparked a new interest, and you added it to the growing pile.

He pointed out a few more, and you ended up needing a basket to hold all of the books. The entire time he chatted away happily, talking about this author and the next, and you found yourself inching unconsciously closer to his side.

As you approached a display of new releases, Antal casually asked, "So, do you have any plans for the weekend? Other than reading all of these books, I suppose."

The question hung in the air, and for a moment, you thought he might be leading up to asking you out.

The hopeful part of your mind spun scenarios of continuing these delightful conversations over coffee or at a quiet park.

Except, you were busy.

"Actually, I’m going to Varga’s book signing on Saturday," you answered, watching his reaction closely, trying to gauge his interest. "You should come along; it’s rare to see him in public."

Antal’s face flickered with an unreadable expression before settling into a polite smile. "I’d love to, but I’m already tied up that day," he replied with a small shrug.

You felt a twinge of disappointment. "That’s too bad," you said. "It would have been great to have you there, especially since you appreciate his work so much."

Antal nodded, his smile tinged with a hint of something you couldn't quite place—was it regret? “You’ll have to tell me about it. Maybe I could give you my number?”

“I’d love that.”

The question filled you with a pleasant anticipation. You entered his number carefully, excited hands a little too fast for your own good.

He smiled as you both stored your phones away. “I have to go, I was only going to pop in for a minute. Maybe I’ll see you again sometime soon?”

You shivered at the softness, the gentleness, in his voice. “Yeah, that would be great.”

As you moved to the checkout, you felt a sense of contentment. Antal stood beside you as you paid for your books, almost close enough to touch. It wouldn’t have taken much for you to close the gap, and kiss him.

As you thanked the desk clerk, you sighed. Kissing him! What a silly thought.

With your books bagged and receipt in hand, you both walked towards the exit. Antal held the door open for you. As you stepped outside, the sunlight turned his auburn feathers a gorgeous golden shade.

There was an undeniable grace about him—a fluidity in his movements that, under the sunshine, made him almost ethereal. His shoulders were broad, tapering into narrower hips, covered in a layer of fluffy feathers beneath his low cut top.

You paused outside the bookstore, smiling gently. “See you around?” you asked hopefully.

“Absolutely.”

You didn’t want to say goodbye, but you had to eventually. With a sigh, you offered him a smile before turning to the car park across the street.

You felt his eyes on you as you walked away. A quick glance back confirmed it, and he offered you a parting wave with claw-tipped hands, a gesture that you returned. As he turned to vanish around the corner, you paused for a moment to watch him.

Antal disappeared quickly; he was tall, with gorgeously long legs. Even from a distance, there was something about the way he moved that captivated you—maybe it was the otherness of him, since harpies were so rare in Oceanhall. Maybe it was his sweet personality, his flushed cheeks and shy smile.

Either way, he left an impression that lingered in your thoughts as you unlocked your car and settled inside.

You started the engine, but your mind was still back in the bookstore, replaying your conversation, his laughter, and the ease with which you had opened up to each other.

You really wanted to see him again.

***

You arrived at the bookstore on Saturday, the buzz of excitement obvious as soon as you stepped inside. The queue for Kristoff Varga's book signing snaked through the aisles—a fact that hadn't fully dawned on you until now. Each person in line clutched their copy of his latest novel, their animated conversations filling the air with anticipatory chatter.

Trying to catch a glimpse of Varga at the signing booth proved futile; the crowd was simply too dense, a wall of eager fans blocking any view of the author himself. Feeling slightly overwhelmed, you decided to escape to the relative calm of the bookstore’s café.

As you approached the counter, the barista greeted you with a friendly smile. “What can I get for you today? Something to help with the wait?” he asked, his tone light.

“A flat white, please,” you replied, appreciating the warmth in his greeting. “It’s quite a turnout, isn’t it? I didn’t realise Varga was this popular.”

“Yeah, it’s been non-stop since we opened,” the barista said as he started on your order. “It’s good for business, but I’m running out of hands!” He laughed, handing you your coffee with a flourish.

“Thank you,” you said, taking a sip of the hot beverage, and digging out your card to pay. “I suppose it’s not every day you get a celebrity author here.”

“That’s true. He’s a bit of a recluse, isn’t he? Makes these events all the more special.” The barista wiped down the counter, casting a glance towards the queue. “You might be here for a while. At least it’s a good crowd, all book lovers together.”

You nodded, agreeing, your thoughts drifting to Antal. Throughout the week, you had exchanged messages. He had mentioned being busy today, but a part of you had still hoped he might surprise you and turn up.

With your coffee in hand, you found a table near the window, a spot that offered a view of both the café and the bookstore entrance. Each time the door opened, your gaze lifted, a reflex action fuelled by the hope of seeing Antal walk in. However, as the minutes turned into an hour, the reality set in that he truly wasn't coming.

You took out your phone, typing a quick message to him: it’s packed here! Wish you could’ve seen it. How’s your day going?

Even as you hit send, you felt disappointment and understanding mingle.

As you waited for his response, you sipped your coffee, watching the crowd and wondering about the man behind the author's desk. What would Varga be like? Would he live up to the mental image you had of him?

As the line began to shorten, you decided it was time to join the queue, balancing your coffee carefully as you edged closer to the excited throng of fans. The energy around you was infectious, with snippets of conversation floating over the buzz of the crowd.

"Can you believe we're actually going to meet Kristoff Varga?" exclaimed a young woman ahead of you, her voice pitched high with excitement.

"I know, right? I heard he's a harpy, which is why he hardly ever makes public appearances," her friend replied, the idea clearly adding an extra layer of allure to the event.

You perked up at this, the coincidence striking you as odd. Two harpies in one week? It was rare enough to meet one, given their usual reclusiveness. The thought lingered in your mind as you inched forward, the line’s pace steady but slow.

"He must be quite something to look at, then," someone else chimed in, "All those feathers. And the talons!"

"Yeah, and it’s not just any harpy. They say his feathers change shades with the seasons—how cool is that?" another added, the group nodding in agreement.

As you finally neared the front, you craned your neck, trying to catch a glimpse of the elusive author. There, at the signing booth, you saw him—a figure with striking auburn feathers, his face partly concealed by a black cap. The feathers were glossy under the lights, and strikingly familiar.

No, he couldn’t have been…

"Amazing, isn't it?" the person behind you whispered, almost as if they could read your thoughts. "I've never seen him up close before.”

You nodded, lost in thought as the line moved forward. Each step brought you closer to Varga, and you craned your neck to try and see his face.

Finally, you were second in line, and your heartbeat thumped against your ribs. Your fingers tightened around the cup of coffee you still held, and you fumbled slightly as you pulled the book from your bag. You smoothed down the cover, trying to calm your nerves, your mind still reeling.

When it was your turn, you stepped up to the booth, and he looked up. Your breath caught in your throat.

Antal.

His auburn feathers seemed more pronounced here, under the softer lights of the signing table, and when his eyes met yours, there was a moment of mutual recognition that ground everything to a halt.

Antal's expression softened. He cleared his throat, his voice softer, more tentative than before. "Hello, nice to see you again.”

You were momentarily at a loss for words, the surprise pinning you in place. Finally, you managed to speak, your voice a whisper of confusion and curiosity. "Why didn't you tell me who you were?"

He hesitated, his glance flickering away before meeting yours again. "Because I wanted you to like me for myself, not as Varga," he admitted with a shrug. "It's easy to like someone for their success or their fame... but you were so excited to meet Kristoff Varga… I wanted to hold off the inevitable."

His honesty struck a chord. A soft laugh escaped you as you shook your head slightly, the absurdity and the sweetness of his concern mingling together. "That's so silly," you said fondly. "I like you, Antal, and I like Varga. They're both you, aren't they?"

Antal's expression lightened, a relieved smile breaking through his initial reserve. "I'm glad to hear that," he said, his eyes brightening.

As an impatient murmur from the person behind you grew louder, Antal’s laughter broke the brief tension, his demeanor relaxing as he took your book to sign it. As he handed the book back, his fingers lingered just a bit too long.

“Are you busy later?” he asked.

“No, I’m free,” you replied, the excitement bubbling up inside you, making your heart race with anticipation.

A shy smile spread across his face, his usual confidence tempered with a vulnerability that made him even more endearing. “Would you like to meet up after the signing?” he ventured, his gaze steady on yours.

“I’d love to,” you said, stepping back to allow him to greet the next fan.

As you moved away from the booth, you heard snippets of conversation and whispers from those around who had caught bits of your exchange with Antal. There was a hint of jealousy in their tones, their eyes following you.

You moved to a quieter part of the bookstore, your heart still fluttering. You sat, waving hello to the barista from earlier, and waited.

As the hours trickled by, you lost yourself in the pages of Antal’s new book, glancing up every so often to see the queue dwindle. Around you, the bookstore began to quiet down, the last few patrons lingering as the event wound to a close.

Noticing the time, the barista approached your table with a gentle smile. “We’ll be closing up soon,” he mentioned, his eyes sweeping over the mostly empty café.

“I’m just waiting for Varga,” you explained, hoping it wouldn’t be an inconvenience.

The barista’s eyebrows rose in surprise, a flicker of recognition in his eyes, but he nodded understandingly. “Of course, we don’t close for another thirty minutes,” he said, and with a final tidy of the table, he left you to wait.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, you saw Antal making his way towards you. The sight of him, free of the signing table and the throngs of fans, reignited the excitement from earlier. You stood up, and as he approached, something in his smile made it impossible to hold back.

You stepped forward and wrapped your arms around him, burying into his feathers. He was so soft and warm, and his closeness sparked something in you. Without really knowing what you were doing, you stood on your toes for a kiss.

The kiss was gentle at first, exploratory, even careful. As you grew more confident, the kiss deepened; you clung to him, hands around his waist to pull him closer.

Antal tasted faintly of sugary coffee and strawberries, a hint of sweetness lingering on his lips. You could feel the slight brush of his feathers, his talons carefully touching your back.

As you stepped back from the kiss, breathless and heart racing, the excitement thrumming through you made your heart stutter. Your lips met his again as you practically crushed yourself against him.

Antal's laugh, light and genuinely happy, mingled with the air between you.

Pulling away a second time, Antal glanced down at the book open on the table. "How are you finding the book?" he asked, his tone playful.

"It's fantastic," you replied, your eyes still locked on his. "I love the romance in it—but I have to say, the real thing is even better."

Antal’s response was to pull you close once again, his arms wrapping around you in a hug that lifted you slightly off your feet. The warmth of his body and the strength in his hold were exhilarating.

As he set you back down, your laughter joined his, the sound echoing lightly in the near-empty café. You glanced over his shoulder and saw the barista watching, a knowing smile on his face. The sight might have embarrassed you at another time, but right now, it didn’t matter. You were too caught up to care about an audience.

Smiling, you pecked Antal on the cheek and said, “let them watch. They’re just jealous I’ve got you all to myself.”

[gatheredfates]

Oh my goodness, I can't believe we're here! This is the FIRST Compendium update for Dawntrail! ☀️ In the end I didn't need the extra weekend off; I just put this together in-between trusts (don't judge me).

I hope everyone is having a fantastic time with the new expansion. I am especially excited to see how this document expands as I find new things in its advent, so please let me know if you make/find anything interesting!

While I don't think the Compendium will have anything pertaining to spoilers, I will try to note where resources/communities contain them going forward. Resources may update without me knowing, however; please do your best to engage with content keeping the possibility of spoilers in mind. Thanks!

With that said, however, as of today (07/06), the following resources have been added to Sea's Community Compendium for XIV Creatives.

LARGE SCALE

XIV Modding — In the online game known as FINAL FANTASY XIV, modifications usually fall under the “tools”, “mods” and “plugins” categories. The purpose of this wiki is to provide a semi-comprehensive breakdown of the existing tools & ways to mod the game cosmetically, ie visuals, audio & other on-screen assets.

*Please note: Modding is a direct violation of the games ToS and discussion of it in game will earn you a ban. Its inclusion in the Compendium is for collection purposes; I am not responsible for what you do with the tools should you download them.

FRIEND / CASUAL SERVER

A Walk Across Etheirys — We are a group of friends, and story-lovers, who have chosen to make the slow journey through every zone of FFXIV we can! We take these walks by expansion, remembering them for what they were and what they meant to us, and aim to add new ones as they arise.

LORE

A Comprehensive List of Halonic Swears — For your Ishgardian fanfiction and lore reference. Created by @rosestarart.

SEAFLOOR

We're a Tumblr Community now! For people unfamiliar with the concept of Communities, I encourage you to check out the tumblr post by staff made about them here. However, copy/pasting what I have written in the Compendium, the Community functions as so:

SEAFLOOR (A FFXIV Community) is a Tumblr community whose duel-purpose focuses on my projects — the Compendium, question drives and screenshot events — whilst also reblogging member created works, resources (including events, commissions and looking for content/roleplay/free company posts), affirmations and other xiv-related content. If you are interested in supporting my projects without the social aspect of a Discord, I highly encourage you to join the Community. Everything hosted on the Discord will be cross-posted there; you will not miss out on anything. As Communities are still in beta, members need to be manually invited. If you would like to join, please like the tumblr post here. Once Communities are out of beta, I will remove this section to better reflect its true public status.

I'm hoping the Community will function as a member-curated dash, resource hub and visual diary for my projects and member created works. There are no hard feelings if you want to leave the Discord and only join the Community. Please do what makes you comfortable!

Want to submit? You can either fill out the google form here or send me an ask with the relevant information!

Is my space suitable for the Compendium? Most of the time, yes! Below the read more is some more information/stipulations. Again, all the below information is accessible on the document! 🌻

Below are the following things I do not accept on the Compendium:

Personal/Single-Character LFC ads.

Content intended for or can be used for bullying, harassment and OOC gossip. E.g. ‘Secrets’ blogs, receipts, callout posts, etc. This does not include in-character tabloid blogs used to generate RP.

Communities that do not have an RP/writing element (large-scale exempt).

Anything I find personally distasteful or goes against the spirit of this project.

Common-sense rule applies.

FAQ.

I want to put my community on the compendium but we have an application process. Is this okay?

Yes! Just note somewhere in your application that's a requirement. The only thing that is mandatory for the Compendium is that you must be open to new members or have a public-facing/accessible facet. There's no point advertising a community if no one can join it in some way!

I want to put my community on the compendium but I only have x number of members —

Also totally okay! People don't start with large communities. Activity is a must but, whether your server has two or two thousand members, if you're looking for new people to join, I'd love to help you find people.

I want to put my community on the compendium but I worry its too niche?

Okay, and? If your Eorzean Fishing Alliance has four members but you roleplay every second weekend, I still want to know about it.

What resources/communities can I add if I'm not the owner of them?

Mutual consent is extremely important to me, so anything that isn't a large-scale community OR a publicly accessible resource must be endorsed by the owner/admin/moderators in order to be added to the compendium. I operate under the assumption that a resource posted to a public space (tumblr, googledocs, youtube, etc) is open to all. A large-scale community is one with a significant member count or openly advertises itself as being accessible to everyone for whatever purpose it serves. If in doubt, please get in touch with me. I'm happy to contact your community owners for you!

How active does a community need to be?

If you find a community has not been active in about two/three months, send me a message and I'll take a look at it. Communities have ebbs and flows, especially event spaces that may take hiatuses depending on member interest/life events. I'm not strict in my implementation provided a space isn't dead. If a link or anything is broken, absolutely contact me about that.

I have [insert a question not stated here]?

No drama! Send me an ask or use the #Compendium channel in my Discord!

[billthedrake]

(This is a story I started a while ago but put to the back burner before getting very far. We'll see if I pick it up again.)

FIFTY SHADES OF DADBOD

PART ONE: THE PROTOTYPE

Sexual attraction's a mystery. At least it is to me. I just know what turns me on and it's deep seated. Yeah, my tastes are particular, weird even. It took me years to own up to them completely.

I don't know if Mr. Carson was responsible for my love of dad bods. Maybe he tapped into something already there, deeper in me. But I had an important milestone watching him mow the lawn, shirtless in the summer heat. Puberty had hit me like a hormonal train and I was spending the summer days with a boner, rubbing it, enjoying the new sensations. I was doing it a lot, too, particularly since I had the free time of my summer days. I don't even think I fully registered that I was attracted to men and men only.

But that day I realized. I looked out my window and watched my neighbor. I got excited and had the naughty urge to rub myself to the vision of the guy, so I unzipped and pulled out my boner.

Jeff Carson was about as typical, even stereotypical a suburban man you could picture. Early 30s, married with a kid, had a corporate job similar to my dad's. Handsome looks, receding blond hair, masculine in that laid-back ex-frat way. Had about 5, maybe 10 extra pounds clinging to his mid section.

I watched that fateful day as the sweat trickled down his back and into the waistband of his beat-up Nantucket red chino shorts. Then as he turned the mower and walked toward my house, that beautiful torso came into view. Strong but not huge pecs, a dusting of golden hair, then just a hint of a gut.

I felt an unfamiliar sensation. Pleasure, but mostly sensations that surprised me. Like I was going to piss. I was having my first orgasm. I cleaned up, ashamed, but about fifteen minutes later I was back in the same spot, doing the same thing as Mr. Carson did his last turns around the lawn. I was hooked.

Mr. Carson wasn't my only JO fodder for my teen years but he was always the biggest star in my fantasies. He fit my ideal of a perfect man and even defined it. To this day, guys measure up to him.

The crazy thing was he got even hotter for me. Around sophomore year, the Carsons had a second baby, and I saw work and domestic life put more padding on his body. Almost all of it went to his midsection. For a good year straight, I observed how the love handles and incipient beer belly filled out Mr. C's dress shirts and polos, as well as the casual T-shirts he'd sometimes wear on the weekend.

And then there were his golf shirts. My dad bod attraction may have been already there, but I'll credit Mr. C for turning me onto golf attire. He was an avid golfer and the way that poly-knit fabric would hug his body would send me wild. Besides the amazing gentle girth of his stomach, the man had perfect tits. Nice thick nipples with a pointy tip that would show through in his golf shirts or polo shirts, even his dress shirts. I developed a real fetish for shirts and the men who filled them out well.

I even knicked a couple of my dad's old ones from a pile he'd set aside for Goodwill. No, I don't perv on the old man, but I perved on those shirts. Big time. Load after load, pumping them out after school as I slipped on a polo shirt and JO-ed in front of my bedroom mirror. The shirts were big on me, of course. I wasn't an athletic teenager and still had a very slender frame. But I'd stroke my dick and imagine what I'd look like bigger, grown up. I imagined being about to fuck a man wearing his golf or polo shirt. One day I even snuck a pair of dad's golf shoes and put them on for my session. Was the biggest cum I'd had.

If Jeff Carson was hot in a snug shirt, it was a different kind of pleasure seeing him shirtless in his backyard when the warmer weather came. Unaware that he was showing off his new-daddy weight to me. I took a ton of pictures which still don't fail to get me off. And eventually, the man took up jogging to lose some of his excess pounds. I wanted to tell him he was fucking perfect and he shouldn't ever change, but I did enjoy the glimpses of him running down the street, the modest swell of his belly jiggling with each stride. Fuck, I shot so much spunk to that mental image.

I worried I was forming an unhealthy obsession, but Mr. C opened me to a new world of men. I started noticing teachers and coaches and men around town who fit the type. These were men I'd never see in a porn video, except for a few of the amateur vids I was curating into a personal collection. Though I didn't have a term yet for their body types, I began to appreciate the sheer variety of dadbods.

It felt bittersweet moving off to college. On one hand I was itching for the freedom to discover myself and to come out. On the other hand I was losing my regular sightings of my neighbor. Not only did I lust after him in a big way, I was growing a little crush on Mr. C.

PART TWO: THE EX-JOCK

It was second semester of college before I discovered the gym. I learned the basics for weight lifting from whatever internet sources I could find and hit it hard.

I made a workout buddy who saw I didn't really know proper form lifting and offered me some tips. Sam was a total bro type, but like me had a leaner genetic build. I think we got along so well because we were serious about lifting but weren't meatheads like a lot of other guys in the gym. We had a standing gym session together four times a week. We didn't hang out too much otherwise, but we spent so much time together we became good friends.

Sam didn't seemed too fazed when I told him I was gay, but he did act a little weird for a while, making nervous jokes about his ass being off limits after I watched his set of squats. Finally, I just said, "Dude you're not my fucking type so don't worry."

That seemed to clear the air. "Sorry man I guess I was being a dick." He racked an extra 20 on for my set. "I bet you go for those pretty boys." It was a small liberal arts college and the few visible gay gays on campus fit a certain type.

I got into place. "Nah," I admitted. "I like older dudes."

He laughed and had a smirk still when I finished my set.

"What?" I asked.

"Me, too," he said. "I don't mean dudes, but I prefer older women. My buddies make fun of me sometimes... I don't think I've lived down the Cougar Boy nickname," he laughed.

"Fuck 'em," I said. "Life's too short not to go after what you want."

Me and Sam were solid after that day.

Thing was, I could talk a big game, but I still hadn't had much sexual experience. Some fumbling hookups with some guys on campus, but I was craving an older man to have sex with. A man like Jeff Carson.

I didn't find him. At least not at first and not exactly. But I set up a profile on an app and after a bit of nervousness added, "looking for older guys. Masculine preferred, don't need a perfect body."

I got a few hits. Some guys were fun to chat with but didn't push my buttons physically. Others looked hot but seemed rude and short. Maybe I was too hesitant and was feeling them out too much.

Finally, I was horny one Saturday night and set something up. The guy I didn't think was that attractive but he offered to suck me off, no recip, and that sounded pretty good to me right then. I went to his place, and yeah, he wasn't better looking in person. But he had a nice head of salt and pepper hair that I looked down on as he shucked my shorts and started to lick my dick, getting it firmed up to hardness. And when he took me in his mouth, I realized what I'd been missing out on. This was a great blow job. Not rushed but definitely working me up to greater and greater pleasure. After a couple of minutes I blurted out that I was going to cum if he kept it up. He did, and I shot. Afterwards, the man was grateful, and I was in a good mood.

It was later that week when I hit the jackpot. The man's profile read 49, 6'2" (two inches taller than me), 220 pounds. We had some flirtatious chat and he unlocked his pics for me... a very handsome, almost ruggedly handsome face, with brown eyes, medium-short dark hair showing a lot of gray... and a nice thick-ish cock the pubic hair trimmed but not too much. Best of all was his body. Strong, bulky, a little padding around the middle. A true ex-jock build.

He seemed into what I was offering, too. Lean, six pack, nice round ass, a bit of muscle that I'd put on in the last year.

"It's gotta be discreet," he wrote.

"That's cool," I replied. "Don't have any one I could tell," I wrote. I was out and had gay friends, but none that I'd confessed my attraction to older men to.

He offered to pick me up on campus. I was nervous about that idea, but some gut instinct told me I could trust him. I'm glad I did. The man was even hotter in person and the smile he greeted me with as I got into his car told me he was pleased with me as well.

"Jason...? good to meet you," he said, offering his thick mitt of a hand.

"You, too, Pat," I smiled back, my heart beating. This guy was so frickin' hot. Thick-set muscle and just big, you know. I knew he was a coach from the get go. I didn't know where or what he coached, but I knew it was possible he was a coach at my college.

"You OK going back to my place?" he asked, checking in.

"Oh yeah," I said.

There's a cliche that younger guys often hold to about older men. That they're all experienced and great lovers. Sometimes that's just not true. I've come to learn that an older guy can be lousy in the sack, or maybe just not click with you for some reason.

But Pat lived up to the fantasy I had. Dude was an amazing kisser. He took his time, making out with me on the couch, talking some between the kisses. Not too much, but feeling me out, letting me talking about my desires, and complimenting me in the process. He didn't rush things, and he'd actually slow me down when I tried to. It was a simple correction, but it made the kissing feel so good. Him teaching me how to enjoy being with a man.

He ran his hand underneath the hem of my T-shirt, tracing along the ridges of my abs. "Nice," he purred, gnawing at the spot under my ear.

"OK if I undo your shirt?" I asked. He was wearing a button down, almost preppy looking. It was silly to ask I suppose, but I'd felt silently admonished for rushing things earlier.

Pat grinned. "Have at it, buddy."

Excitedly I reached up and undid his next to top button, then another. I stopped there, wanting to take my time. I eased my fingers beneath the opening and felt the warm hairy chest, firm and muscular but in a middle-aged kind of way. "So hot," I growled. "Perfect."

Pat's hand wandered up higher on my belly, sending goosebumps along my flesh. He knew what he was doing and he made it seem effortless. "Just so you know, I'm getting out of a messy divorce. So just looking for a little fun. Is that OK with you buddy?"

I nodded. I guess he could read my intense attraction and was concerned I was going to crush out on him. "Um, yeah," I replied. We kissed softly. He had a grin on his face. "This feels amazing," I said.

"It's not your first time is it?"

"No," I replied deciding to undo another button. His stomach was hairier than his chest, which excited me. "But you make the other guys seem like amateurs."

Pat liked that response, a lot. "Arms up, buddy," he ordered and I did so he could peel my T-shirt off. I quickly undid the rest of his buttons, watching excitedly as the shirt flaps opened to show off his mid-section padding. He had a fuller stomach than his online picture and I was very excited by the rounder girth. His muscle was solid, for sure, but his advertised 220 was probably closer to 230, with that extra 10 forming a nice combination of soft-firm beneath my touch as I explored his midsection.

"God you're perfect," I repeated. I finally removed my hand from his furry gut as he started to lean forward.

Pat removed his shoes and socks and undid his belt. "Mind if I get more comfortable?" he asked.

"I'd be upset if you didn't," I breathed. I was feeling nervous but weirdly confident too, if that makes sense. Being with an older man, particularly one with a body like Pat's, made me feel like I was truly having sex for the first time.

I watched excitedly as the jeans and then the briefs came down. Pat's genitals were exactly as advertised, and the pictures didn't lie. The man wasn't hung very long, but his cock was thick, thicker than average and the chunky tool just somehow looked right on his ex-jock frame. The prick stood up rigid like a railroad spike. The divorced man was turned on.

I followed suit and though I felt my body paled in comparison to his, I got off on the way he looked at me. I don't know if Pat had a thing for college guys or just younger guys in general, but I felt a wave of confidence as I stood before him naked and erect and stepped up to meet him in a kiss. His hard muscle and softer bulk both felt amazing against my trimmer body as we made out and rubbed cocks.

With a grin, Pat broke the kiss and started walking me backward. "Why don't we take this to the bedroom, buddy?" he asked.

I nodded excitedly.

Pat had a nice place, but it had a new, not-yet-lived in feel of a house of a divorced guy. But his king bed felt incredibly soft and comfortable compared to my dorm mattress, and it was a thrill to be in this coach's bedroom as he climbed onto the bed after me and climbed right on top of my reclining body.

That next kiss felt even more electric than the ones before. I didn't even know Pat's last name or really anything about him, but his body and masculine presence on top of me excited me beyond belief. Whether he was the romantic type or not, he seemed to love kissing and making out and taking the slow approach to sex. That worked for me, only his slow writhing against my body was starting to get me off, far too quickly.

I tried to stop my orgasm, but as I clenched Pat's hips urgently to signal him to stop thrusting against me, the man took that as a signal of desire and he writhed more steadily against me. That did it. I came. My fooling-around handjobs and BJs up to that point didn't compare to the incredible cum I had, spurting my warm seed between our naked bodies.

It took Pat by surprise and he broke the kiss suddenly and leaned up, looking down at me. "Whoa... you must have been pretty worked up, buddy," he said.

I felt embarrassed to have no self-control around this man. "Yeah, sorry Pat," I muttered feeling even younger and more inexperienced than I was.

The ex-jock kind of rolled off to the side so he could examine my sperm. It coated both of our stomachs, and I loved seeing how the white liquid matted down his belly fur, but the brunt of my load was on my body.

Pat took in the sight and then leaned down and started licking off my cum with long wide swipes of his tongue. He muttered excitedly at my flavor then it was my turn to moan as Pat came up and kissed me deeply, sharing my sperm as our tongues passed back and forth. It was an incredibly hot experience.

Pat thought so too and was now getting worked up. He looked up at me as he started stroking his dick. "I gotta get off too, Jase..." he announced.

I touched his forearm, not stopping his stroking but signaling him to pause. "I can go again," I said. "I'm pretty turned on right now." It was true, my erection hadn't gone down in the slightest and I felt like I could go again, only without that out-of-control urgency as before.

He liked that response. His expression curled into a smile. "Yeah, buddy? I forget what it's like to be 19," he chuckled. I watched his magnificent bulky body twist as he reached back to grab some lube. Pat popped the cap and squirted a good deal on his fingers.

He met me in another kiss just as his hand reached down to start applying the liquid to my hole. He'd mentioned in our chat that he loved fucking, and while I'd replied "that's hot," we hadn't discussed the specifics of how our hookup was going to go down. I had a pretty good idea now.

I was cherry when it came to anal, but very eager for that to change. Pat seemed appreciative of my tight hole as he worked it open with one, two, and then three fingers as we made out. He damn well knew what he was doing. Those fingers prodding me slowly and steadily, working me open.... it felt intense but in a wonderful way.

Finally he knelt up and got into place, putting my legs on his strong shoulders. Looking up I remarked how from the sternum up his muscle was big and well-defined, a total ex-jock build. I was starting to think football, he was that big and strong, and my guess was that Pat was a college football player who'd kept up dedicated time in the gym in the 25 plus years since graduation.

Below his chest, Pat had the gut of a man who'd let himself go to seed, or at least let his body do what men's bodies naturally want to do with age. And I was completely turned on by the result. Just looking down at that ex-jock belly made my virgin hole open up and allowed Pat's thick, wet prick to push in.

I was getting my cherry popped in a big way. Maybe it wasn't Jeff Carson doing the honors, but in every other way Pat, whose last name I didn't know, was my fantasy first. He bored in ever so slowly and about two inches in, I winced, feeling my innards tightening up.

The man paused, concerned. "You've done this before right?"

I shook my head no.

"But you said..." He'd misunderstood me before.

"I've had sex a few times, but you're the first to fuck me," I explained.

He looked down a little contrite and ran his hands up and down my smoother body. "We don't gotta buddy."

I held on to his midsection. "I want this," I said. "Bad. Just go slow."

He nodded. "You got it," he smiled. "Only I may fire off any time. Your ass is so tight." And with that he leaned down and met me in a soft kiss that made my body come alive.

If Pat was skilled before, he got even better. Patient in working me open as we made out and I felt up his bigger body. Then, something clicked and I just wanted him. I wanted every fat inch of that magnificent coach cock. I didn't have to wait. As my ass unclenched, Pat fed it to me, in a slow, steady push. Right all the way in, balls deep.

He grunted into my mouth, then broke the kiss.

"Popped your cherry, kid," he growled with a grin.

"Oh fuck!" I hissed, from both the physical sensation and the emotional intensity.

"You like that?" the man grinned, turned on by how excited I was. He gave a slow, shallow pump into me, then again. Not a hard fuck, but I felt it.

"Yes... fuck me Pat," I grunted, feeling all the pleasurable sensations in my body focused in my asshole. His hips pulled out more with each stroke now, and my prostate was singing. "Jesus... this feels so incredible," I said. My hands were back at his body now, every inch I could touch and feel as this man delivered an incredible virgin-busting fuck.

He nodded. "Your ass is incredible too, Jase... tightest I've ever been in."

His words made my hole clench and flutter against his pistoning dick. I wasn't even trying to do anything special, it was just my body's involuntary response. But it egged the coach on.

"Oh FUCK yeah! Milk my cock, buddy... just like that!" He humped more urgently into me, carried away by the sensations on his dick and given the green light now.

For the next minute, I lay there and took it. A master cocking that was fast and hard. I thought of touching my dick, but I didn't want to fire out too soon again. Pat deserved to get off in my ass, and I wasn't going to cut off his opportunity.

Turns out, I didn't have to worry. As the man leaned forward and claimed another deep kiss, the shift in angle mashed my dick right against his heaving thickset belly. That began to trigger my orgasm, right in synch with Pat's own deep cum. Together, on his king sized bed, we gave it up, spurting our loads.

The gruff man had a goofy grin as he dismounted and our bodies parted. He looked down at his spent, slick cock and the renewed frothy wetness on his stomach. "I was gonna ask if it was OK for you, but I guess I got my answer already," he said.

I lay back, feeling fully and completely satisfied and smiled up at him. "My only worry is that you spoiled me for other men. That was incredible," I said.

That gave him a proud, almost cocky expression. He gave my hip a gentle, affectionate pat and then got off the bed. "Here.... let's clean up." He grabbed my hand and helped pull me to my feet as well.

We showered together and Pat was especially affectionate as we slowly soaped each other's body and made out underneath the warm spray.

I did see a slightly concerned look as we toweled off.

"Don't worry," I said. "I know you're not looking to date. I'm just happy we did that. It's made my year."

That seemed to relax the big man, who took my towel from my and started drying me off. It was a simple, affectionate, yet very sexy action and gave me another boner.

"I can't believe you're getting hard again," Pat laughed.

"Can't help it," I said. "You're the sexiest man ever."

Pat grinned and gave me another peck. "Listen... you're right, I'm not looking to date. But if you want to stay over... maybe we can have a repeat when I recover a little."

"Sounds awesome," I said, taking my towel and using it to rub his body dry. I could never get enough of seeing the way the beefy mass looked against the white terry cloth.

My action made Pat smile. "You really were cherry just now, weren't you?"

That caught me by surprise. "Do guys lie about that?"

"You'd be surprised," Pat replied. "But you're the real deal... it was very hot breaking you in."

"It was hot for me, too," I assured him. "I couldn't have asked for a better first time." It was true. I later talked to some of my gay friends, who had very different first time experiences. I was lucky.

Pat and I snuggled in his bed and watched some dumb TV and talked some and eventually I felt his hardon come back to life as we made out. The man mounted me for a second time and while it lacked the sheer intensity of the first, we both relished the additional staying power that allowed for a solid 15 minute fuck. I'd be sore the next day for sure, but then I never wanted this to end.

After Pat dropped me off the next morning - after a mutual BJ session and some well-earned breakfast - I logged on immediately and tracked down the webpage for the football team.

Sure enough, Pat was the linebacker assistant coach at my college.

[acingthistest]

Prinxiety Week: That's How You Know

Prompt 1: Movie Night

tags@prinxietyweek

summary: Virgil and Roman had been sat in the living room for a couple hours. Tonight was their movie night; it was a way to bond with each other. They’d been doing it for a while now.

TW: none :D (though please notifiy me if I need to add anything)

Characters: Virgil, Roman, and Patton (who's only briefly mentioned)

I wrote this intending it to be romantic, but I think it can be read as platonic Prinxiety as well

It was shortly after Virgil’s acceptance when they had started. Roman wanted to try and get to know him better. Though he didn’t have much to go off of in regard to an activity they could do together. He knew that he liked Disney, which was a surprise to Roman initially. So, one-night, Roman asked Virgil if he wanted to join him to watch some Disney movies. It took a lot to convince him, until eventually, with some assistance from Patton, Virgil had finally given in.

“If I say yes this time, will you leave me alone.”

“I promise, though I’d doubt you’d want that.”

“Fine, if it’ll get you to stop.” Virgil had said, rolling his eyes.

It had been awkward at first. Neither of them had been saying anything, and while that would be basic etiquette for movie watching, the silence was rather uncomfortable. Until one off hand comment turned into another, resulting in a mini debate with the two as the movie played in the background. It was nice sharing opinions on each subject. To see things from a different perspective. Even if one of them was all dream-like and fantasy filled, while the other was dark and pessimistic. Yes, they disagreed on most things, but the times where they both already had the same opinion were almost magical. Finding out they shared a common observation was wonderful since they had already expected the other’s counter argument. From that point on, they decided to do this at least once about every 3 weeks.

They were now currently in the middle of “Enchanted”, both dressed casually Roman comfortably laid up against Virgil, while Virgil messed with his hair. Roman didn’t mind though, even if it was messing up his good hair day. Every day was a good hair day in his books.

“He is so you coated, and I hate that I know it.” Virgil remarked, staring at the screen. He was referring to the movie’s resident prince character, Edward.

“He is your standard Disney prince, so it makes sense why you get that vibe.” Roman chuckled, his brand was adjacent to a Disney prince. In the words of Logan, it was a reasonable conclusion or something like that.

“But I think it should the other way around?”

Virgil began to braid a small section of Roman’s hair, rather than just running his hand through it, as their conversation carried on.

“Eh, I’m around you more often. It feels right to say it this way.”

“Well I appreciate your company.” Roman spoke softly. Reaching to the nearby bowl of popcorn they’d brought over.

“You better, you’re the one who asked me to be here the first time.”

Roman gasped at the shift of tone in the room. Though he honestly shouldn’t have been surprised.

“You’re the one who asked if we could continue movie nights!”

They had taken a break due to the events that had occurred as of recently. Some things became a little much.

“You didn’t have to say yes.” Virgil scoffed.

“But I did want to continue these.”

“Then stop complaining. You got what you wanted.”

Roman turned his head up to look at Virgil.

“I guess I brought this upon myself.” He stated, smiling as he readjusted himself.

“Stop moving, you’re gonna mess me up.” Virgil uttered. Roman obliged and refocused his attention on the movie. Virgil tied the two braids he had made together. Just one last finishing touch he thought to himself. Virgil tried to be discreet adding it in.

“Not bad if I do say so myself.” He admitted aloud, grabbing Roman’s attention away from the movie.

“Wait lemme see.” Roman summoned a mirror in his hand. He stared at his reflection, seeing what Virgil had done. Two neatly done braids adorned with mini stars in them.

“Where did you get these?” Roman asked, turning to face Virgil and pointing to the stars in his hair.

“A master never reveals their secrets.” He answered with a wink.

“The suspense is going to kill me from the inside, oh no!” Roman said sarcastically. They both laughed at the statement and continued to watch the movie. When Patton entered the living room in the morning, he walked in to see a sleeping Roman while Virgil was scrolling on his phone. Virgil waved to Patton as he let out a small squeal of delight.

[flatland-a-2024-translation]

Section 14. How I vainly tried to explain the nature of Flatland

[Table of Contents]

Thinking it was time for me to burst the Monarch’s bubble of fantasy and bring him back to the realm of common sense, I decided I was going to try to get him to understand some of the real truth of the World, the way things worked in Flatland.

So I started with this: “Your Royal Highness, how do you tell the shape and position of your subjects? I noticed through my sense of Sight, before I entered your Kingdom, that some of your people are Lines, and others are Points, and that some of the Lines are longer—”

He interrupted me with, “You are talking nonsense. You must have been hallucinating, because it’s impossible to see the difference between a Line and a Point, you can only tell them apart by hearing, which is also how the exact measurement is taken. Look at me and behold – I am a Line, the longest in Lineland, over six inches in Space –”

“In Length,” I corrected.

“Idiot!” he snapped, “Space is Length! Interrupt me again and this conversation is over!”

I apologized, but he was still angry, and continue scornfully, “Since you refuse to listen to reason, you will hear with your own ears how the sound of my two voices allows my Wives to calculate my exact measurements! One of my Wives is to the North, the other to the South. They are both six thousand miles, seventy yards, two feet, and eight inches away from me. Now, listen while I call to them.”

He chirped loudly, and then casually continued, “My wives will hear one of my two voices first, and then the other. By counting the time between hearing the first voice and the second, they will be able to calculate the distance between my two mouths.

“One is 6.457 inches away from the other, which tells them that my total shape is 6.457 inches. But don’t pretend to think that they perform this calculation every single time they hear me speak! They knew my shape before we were even married. But they could recalculate it at any time just as easily. By this same method, I can tell the shape of any of my Male subjects through the sense of sound.”

I asked, “But what if a Man pretended to have a Woman’s voice by using just one of his mouths, or disguised his Southern voice so that you couldn’t recognize it as an echo of the Northern one? Wouldn’t this cause a lot of problems? Don’t you have any way to make sure people are telling the truth, by Feeling one another?”

Obviously, this was a very stupid question, because Feeling wouldn’t have worked in Lineland, but I asked it just to annoy the Monarch, which worked perfectly.

“What?!” He cried in horror, “What do you mean?”

“Feel, touch, come into contact,” I replied.

“If when you say ‘feeling’,” said the King, “You mean getting so close to someone that there is no more space left between you, you must know, Stranger, that this is a crime punishable by death. And it’s obvious why: Women are so fragile that they would probably be shattered by the slightest ‘touch’, as you call it, and since it’s impossible to tell Women from Men using only sight, it is illegal for anyone to ‘touch’ anyone else.

“And why would anyone want to do such a dangerous and illegal thing as ‘touching’ when simply listening is so much easier, safer and accurate?

“And as to the idea that anyone could successfully lie about their shape, that’s impossible, because your Voice is the whole essence of your Being, and cannot be changed as easily as you pretend.

“But lets imagine that I did have the power to pass through solid objects, and I could go through all the billions of my subjects without hurting anyone, verifying their shape and distance by the sense of ‘feeling’. How much time and energy would I have to waste with such a clumsy and inaccurate method! All it takes right now is a single moment of song, and I know everything there is to know about every being in Lineland. Listen, just listen!”

And then he paused and listened, as if delighted, to the many noises made by his people, which to me just sounded like a bunch of tiny crickets, the kind you might find on the fictional island of Lilliput from Gulliver’s Travels.

“Truly,” I said, “Your sense of hearing does help you a lot, and fills in the gaps of your problems. But allow me to point out that your life must be incredibly boring. You can see nothing but a Point! You can’t even see a Straight Line! You don’t even know what a Straight Line is! You miss out on all the things we enjoy in Flatland! I think it would be better to be entirely blind than to see so little!

“I’ll admit that your hearing is more advanced than mine, because the music of Lineland that you enjoy so much sounds like basic chirping to me, but at least I can see the difference between a Line and a Point, and I’ll prove it!

“Right before I entered your Kingdom, I saw you dancing back and forth from right to left, with seven Men and a Woman on your left side, and eight Men and two Women on your right. Aren’t I correct?”

“You’re right as far as the numbers and sexes go,” said the King, “But I don’t understand what you mean by ‘right’ and ‘left’. And I know you’re lying about seeing these things. How could you possibly see the Line – the inside – of any Man? You probably heard this information, and then hallucinated that you saw it instead of hearing it. But tell me what the words ‘left’ and ‘right’ mean. I assume it’s your way of saying North and South?”

“No,” I said, “Besides the movement from North to South, there is another way to move, called from right to left.”

“Then please demonstrate how to move from left to right.” he said.

“I can’t show you that,” I said, “Unless you could step out of your Line entirely.”

“Step out of my Line? Do you mean out of the world? Out of Space itself?” he asked.

“Well, yes,” I said, “or at least your version of the World. What you call Space is not the entirety of it. Real Space is a Plane, but you think it’s only a Line.”

“If you can’t show me what this movement from left to right looks like, then please describe it to me in words.” he said.

“If you can’t even tell your right side from your left, I don’t think anything I can say will make it clearer to you.” I said, “But surely I don’t need to explain something as basic as that.”

“I have absolutely no idea what you’re taking about.” he said.

“Alas! How am I supposed to explain it to you then?” I asked, “When you move forward, doesn’t it ever occur to you that you could go a different way? By going in the direction your side is facing? Instead of always moving forward or backward, haven’t you ever wanted to move to the side?”

The King said, “No, never. And what do you mean? How can a man’s insides face in any direction? How can a man move in the direction of his insides?”

I said, “Well, since words can’t explain it, I’ll try showing you with actions. I will slowly move out of Lineland, in the direction I’m trying to explain to you. Okay?”

Then I began to slowly move my body back out of Lineland.

As long as any part of me was still in his view, the King kept saying, “I still see you. I still see you. You’re not moving.”

[Image description start: A diagram showing a blue line, labeled “Lineland”. There is a short black line labeled “the King” the left side of the image, and in the center is a Square intersecting Lineland with just his lower angle. The rest of his body outside Lineland is covered in horizontal lines, showing which parts would intersecting Lineland at a time, labeled, “My body just before I disappeared”. Image description end.]

But then I was out of Lineland, out of his Line of Sight, and he shouted, “She is vanished – she is dead!”

“I’m not dead,” I said, “I just moved out of Lineland, the Straight Line that you call Space. I am in the real Space, where I can see everything. I can see your Line, or side, which you call your insides, and I can also see the Men and Women on the North and South sides of you. I’ll now describe to you their order, their size, and the distance between them.”

This took a while, but when I was done, I cried triumphantly, “Are you convinced now?” Then I reentered Lineland, in the same spot I had held before.

But the Monarch replied, “If you were a Man of sense – though, considering the fact that you have only one voice, I know you are a Woman – but if you had any sense at all, you would listen to reason.

“You expect me to believe that there is another Line besides the one I can see and hear, and another range of motion besides the one I can move in. But when I ask you to describe these to me in words, or show me them, instead of moving, you just play some magic trick to make yourself invisible, and instead of actually describing the world you claim exists, you just tell me the numbers and sizes of about forty of my subjects, which is information that is readily available to everyone here at all times, down to the smallest child! Could anything be more unbelievable or audacious? Just admit that you are lying, or else get out of my kingdom!”

Enraged by not only his continued failure to understand the most basic things, but also his instance that I wasn’t a Man, I retorted angrily, “You self-absorbed fool! You think you’re the most perfect thing in existence, but you’re really the most flawed and idiotic! You claim to be able to see, but all you see is nothing but a Point! You’re so proud of your ability to calculate a Straight Line, but I can actually see Straight Lines, and calculate the existence of Angles, Triangles, Squares, Pentagons, Hexagons, and even Circles!

“Why should I waste any more breath? I am the final evolution of your unevolved form. You are a Line, but I am a Line of Lines, known to my country as a Square, and even I, who am so superior to you, am nothing next to the great nobles of Flatland, which is where I have come from, to visit you in the hope of making you less ignorant!”

When he heard my words, the King gave a threatening cry and charged at me as though to pierce me through the diagonal, and at the same time a roar arose from the billions of his subjects, a war-cry so loud and violent that it rivaled the volume of a hundred thousand charging Isosceles and the artillery guns of a thousand Pentagons.

Frozen in place, I couldn’t speak or move to avoid this horrifying death sentence. And still the noise grew louder and louder, and the King rushed closer, until suddenly I awoke from this nightmare to hear the breakfast-bell calling me back to the reality of Flatland.

[Table of Contents]

[nightmare-catguy]

Johnny’s sexual escapade chapters (1) are a bit grating, however, Johnny isn’t really a super reliable narrator here. There’s some stuff he says I believe, and other things I don’t. He fucks every girl he comes into contact with, to the point where a woman entering the story, it’s pretty predictable what happens next. But then again, I don’t know. If he lies about sex, wouldn’t he lie about Thumper? Is she so Godly to him, he can’t even imagine being on her level? But thats not true really, he’s had dreams about her that are the usual flair of Johnny Horny. I guess what I find is that, there is no sanctuary for Truant.

Johnny Truant openly tells us a few times he’s a liar though, he does so very casually, opening up about his fantastical stories. At the same time he can be very honest, but only to an extent. I think to protect himself. The story of his chipped tooth is dark, and yes in some ways detailed, but not as detailed as Johnny can get. (2)

Sex is something that can take your mind off of things, especially if your stress response is “I need to get laid.” Sex is a comfort (3), even if its momentary. Pleasure, women, drugs— He burried himself in this shit. To the point of access. To the point where I question his point of view.

________________________________________

1. I don’t think they’re chapters, but I don’t know what else to call them.

2. Garry Callough, “The Truth of Truant,” The New York Times, August 13th, 2003, section 23.

3. Personally I try to use sex as a way to evade my fears as well. But funnily enough I find myself often in Johnny’s shoes. I don’t think I’m as bad as he is though. I’m reading through House of Leaves at a stupid speed (i’m around 400 pages in) It’s been around 3 days since I started, I didn’t expect it to hook me so well. So needless to say I’ve kinda been lost on the sauce. A quiet treck down the stairs at night has my hair standing on end. The Navidson Record is a super cool story, but it sure does sneak up on you. It’s creepiness. Kind of like how I felt about Skinamarink, which is why I wanted to read this book. But despite trying to slip into the comfort of my boyfriend’s face. His body, especially the fantasy of it. Loose myself in a bit, so I could take comfort in the idea of his presence. I glanced over my shoulder to the black closet that stood behind me. I had a dim lamp on, I guess its light only punctured the closet’s entrance but the rest of it. Just pitch black, no wonder people think monsters live in places like that.

It had such a presence to me.

I looked away, I’m not really scared of the dark. I often feel through it in the night for a glass of water, my house is familiar to me y’know? But what if it suddenly wasn’t? I mean in some ways its changed quite a bit since I came back from college. My closet especially, mom renovated it. It looks nice but it smelled foreign for awhile. It had a unpleasant sort of sour scent. The wood was stained and hadn’t really properly dried yet, so the smell just stuck to everything including my clothes. I think my mom found the scent pleasant but it made my closet supremely more alien. So now there it is, my sour smelling closet giving me the stink eye.

No not really, it’s more akin to a hollowed out eye socket when it gets that dark.

[iamvegorott]

Meeting A Magical Man Pt. 62

Part 1: Link Prev: Link Next: [TBA]

“Call us when you’re ready~” Marvin sang as he walked off with Phantom, Henrik, and Mad. 

“I’m still confused about what store we’re going to,” Mad said as he took a couple of faster steps to match Phantom’s and was soon able to walk casually again. 

“I swear if you are taking us where I think you are taking us, I am turning right back around,” Henrik said to Marvin. 

“Don’t act like you’re not wanting to check it out. I’ve heard you and Edward before; you two are definitely not shy~” Marvin teased. 

“One time-”

“It’s been more than once, honey.” 

“You have-” Henrik’s scolding stopped when some teenagers started walking past them. “I am so giving you hell when we are home.” 

“Only if you’re rough with me~” Marvin winked and then closed his eyes when Henrik flicked his forehead. 

“I thought being with Chase would have calmed that, but I swear you are worse.” Henrik huffed. 

“Bicker later, we’re here.” Phantom tugged on Marvin’s arm, dragging Mad and him into the shop which in turn dragged Henrik in as well. 

“Those are fun mugs.” Mad strayed off when Phantom let him go. 

“Shocking that’s the first thing he notices.” Marvin chuckled. 

“It is in the back, is it not?” Henrik asked with a sigh. 

“He’ll get back there eventually, let him slowly merge in.” Phantom laughed and walked straight to the more…adult section of the store. 

Mad looked through the collection of mugs hanging on the wall, all with pictures and images and he was beginning to recognize. He was so thankful for the others, how they were all so excited and willing to help him learn and catch up on everything he was behind on. Mad realized this was the happiest he’d ever been in his life, surrounded by people who liked him and were understanding. 

He was cared for, he was loved, and he had everything he thought for the longest time would only ever be a dream for him. A hopeless fantasy that he was now living fully. 

“They have wallets too,” Mad said to himself. “And hats and…” He stopped and hummed when he saw the little glass cup. “Shot glasses?” Mad shrugged and continued, unaware that he was getting deeper and deeper into the store. “Oh! Mare has a few chains like these.” He giggled at seeing the accessory, remembering Mare telling him about when he was a teenager and would have one on him all the time. “Candy?” Mad went over to the display to get a better look and he stiffened when he noticed the shape of the suckers. “Oh!” 

“He found it!” Marvin called over to Phantom with a laugh. 

“Are they…are they supposed to be…like that?” Mad asked when Marvin joined him. 

“Like dicks?” Marvin asked and got a head nod. “Yep.” 

“Why?” 

“It’s fun.” 

“Okay?” Mad just blinked a few times and walked with Marvin. “Oh, wow, that’s an outfit.” He said, seeing some of the sets of clothing hanging. “There’s not a lot there and whatever there is, it’s all lace.” 

“That’s the goal.” Marvin went to one of the outfits and felt the fabric humming and shaking his head. He knew Mad would not like how that felt. 

“The goal is to wear clothes that doesn’t cover most of you?” Mad asked and then noticed Marvin had several outfits draped across his arm.

“It’s lingerie. It’s to make you feel good and excite your partner.” Marvin explained, going to another outfit and feeling it, nodding this time. 

“To get them aroused?” Mad swallowed and felt his face going warm at the thought of wearing one of those outfits. 

“Exactly.” Marvin picked up one of the sets, a purple one with a very soft lace, and he held it up to Mad’s body. “What do you think?” 

“It’s…” Mad just started giggling, and his face flushed even deeper. 

“You’re getting this one.” Marvin chuckled and had it join the others he held. 

“Do you think Jackie would lose his mind with this?” Phantom showed Marvin a box he held. Mad looked at it and quickly turned away. 

“He would. Get two.” Marvin and Phantom both laughed at his comment. 

“Have they talked you into anything yet?” Henrik asked Mad with a chuckle. 

“You bought something?” Mad said when he saw the bag in Henrik’s hand. 

“You did~?” Marvin half-sang. “What did you get~?”

“None of your concern,” Henrik stated. 

“But Hen!” Marvin exaggerated his whine. 

“Nope.” 

“At least tell me if it’s clothes or a toy.”

“No.” 

“Hen!” 

“I am going to sit on the bench out there and wait for you all to finish,” Henrik stated and walked off. 

“Boo.” Marvin stuck his tongue out.

“We’ll sneak a peek later,” Phantom said with an almost wicked grin. 

“I’m going to go out there as well. I want to look more at that big candy display.” Mad pointed, showing there was a large circular table with two layers of candy machines right next to the bench Henrik was sitting on. 

“Gotcha, don’t worry about your outfit, I’ll cover it, and me and Phantom will be out later,” Marvin said. 

“Sounds good.” Mad flashed a smile and walked out of the store. He waved to Henrik and pointed to the candy machines to let him know where he was headed. Henrik gave a thumbs up before taking his phone out to check some notifications. 

Mad walked around the candy machines, seeing the colors and reading the signs telling him what each treat was. He ended up behind it, hidden from Henrik’s view as he stopped at the jawbreaker machine. Mad got his wallet out, found just enough change, and got himself one of the jawbreakers. He happily unwrapped it and popped it into his mouth, heading off for a trashcan and perking up when he saw a store that was selling Pokemon plushies. 

He had to get one for himself and Mare. 

Without thinking it through, Mad went into the store, getting him out of everyone’s sight, and adored the sight of all of the plushies. They all looked so soft and huggable. He found a Flareon first, remembering that Mare had said he was a lot like this one. Mad hugged the plushie to his chest as he continued looking around, not seeing the other person who came into the store with him. 

“There it is!” Mad chirped and grabbed the Gengar plushie, knowing that one was Mare’s favorite. “Perfect!” He continued talking to himself before heading to the counter to buy the merchandise. Someone had stepped up behind him, and Mad assumed they had gotten in line to buy whatever they had chosen. 

“Find everything you wanted?” The man behind the counter asked.

“Yes! Thank you.” Mad was practically buzzing. Mare was going to love his find. 

“Will that be cash or card?”

“Card.” Someone else spoke for Mad, and the voice sent a cold shiver down his spine. “Here you go.” Mad’s body trembled as the voice became clearer, making it impossible to deny it. He couldn’t move anything aside from his eyes as he watched a hand reach around him, holding a credit card, and the name on it had Mad wanting to vomit.

Actor

----------

Tags: @brokentimewatch @bookwormscififan @d-structive @rainymae523 @ashtonisvibing

[pure-ablution]

Do you know any similar bracelets and jewelry to Cartier Love Bracelets, that are just really basic and simple? I want to buy some jewelry that can be worn anywhere.

The Love Bracelet is the ultimate basic rich girl bracelet. I don’t really wear mine anymore but I used to wear it all the time, it’s ubiquitous and can be worn with any casual daytime outfit without causing any undue fuss or attention. The Love Bracelet is weird because it’s so well-known, everyone and their mother has a rep these days and it’s seen on the wrists of prostitutes and princesses, and yet it can still somehow go unnoticed as long as you don’t actually jangle it in people’s faces. From afar it looks like a simple gold or silver bangle, it’s unobtrusive and honestly, I do think that every girl could do with having a 15-dollar rep tucked in the back of her jewellery box, just in case.

Basic simple bangles:

Olivia Le, £45; Lily & Roo, £75; Karin Andréasson, £116; Dower & Hall, £165

The basic, simple bangle is what I prefer over the Love Bracelet these days. You can show a bit more character, go vintage or niche, designer or high street, and have a little fun with it. I love my vintage Gucci bamboo bangle and I wear it all the time, and I collect enamel bangles from Michaela Frey, too. I’ve chosen a selection of gold-plated bangles (all—apart from Olivia Le—also available in silver!) that I think are fun but simple enough to go with everything, but you could really put anything in this category, it all depends on your personal style. Wear them stacked or on their own, they work both ways and give a little lift to an otherwise boring outfit.

Love bracelet dupes:

QVC Diamonique, £30; Kate Spade, £75; Coach, £95; Tory Burch, £165

These are just a few dupes (i.e. Cartier ‘inspired’ pieces) I found whilst looking through the ‘product’ section on Google. The Love Bracelet is iconic and has been copied and reinterpreted by almost every brand, and I’m fairly sure you could get a dupe at Claire’s at this point if you looked hard enough. I’ve linked pieces at a range of price points from brands I trust not to steal your money or break upon first wear; there are a lot of shady jewellery sites these days, and not only the cheap ones, either, so if you’re looking for an ‘inspired’ bracelet rather than a straight-up fake, then I recommend you stick to known brands and mid-tier jewellery houses.

Straight-up reps:

If you live in, or are going to soon visit, South or West Asia, then get yourself down to the jewellery district, into the bazaar or souk, and find yourself a decent jeweller or gold merchant. It’s almost too easy to find perfect, solid gold replicas of one of the world’s most famous bracelets. The same goes for Southeast Asia, I know several excellent jewellery merchants in Indonesia and Malaysia who do amazing replicas and fantasy pieces from all the big houses. What I will say is that gold is soft, and scratches easily—genuine Love Bracelets notoriously scratch like hell, and all the solid gold replicas I’ve seen have scratched equally as badly.

I personally think that, unless you’re in pursuit of 1:1 perfection, then you’re better off buying stainless steel from China. It won’t scratch as much, and it’s cheap. There are two factories producing the largest proportion of replica Love Bracelets in China, and they both make at what I’d consider to be a low-mid tier, the interior details of the bracelets are incorrect and the screws are set too deep, but unless you take it off and show it to people who have an eye for jewellery and the authentic bracelet on hand for reference, nobody is going to call you out. There’s no point, in my view, in paying hundreds for 18k Chinese reps when you could contact an Indonesian or Indian or Emirati merchant and have the same thing for much less, and there’s no point in buying mid-tier through WhatsApp sellers when they source from exactly the same factories as DHGate and AliExpress. I’d drop links but they’d expire quickly anyway, so just go on AliExpress, find yourself a jewellery seller with over a 97% approval rating and reviews with photographs, message the shop and ask for real photos before you buy, pay like £25 max for your bracelet and go off on your merry way.

[miastideclock]

a year with bang chan, "march 2nd"

word count: 680 warnings: not edited notes: really sorry about this being a month late

january 2nd ⁺₊ february 14th ⁺₊ march 2nd ⁺₊ april 17th ⁺₊ may 30th ⁺₊ june 4th ⁺₊ july 14th ⁺₊ august 1st ⁺₊ september 12th ⁺₊ october 3rd ⁺₊ november 1st ⁺₊ december 31st

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆

int. museum. morning.

“do you have your tickets ready?” a lady clad in a sophisticated uniform asked you and your boyfriend as you stood in line.

you found yourself outside the museum of natural history, looking up at the massive glass building. you had been here a few times before, but it seemed you always visited at the wrong times, sections being closed off or renovated. this time however, you had looked up beforehand when the botanical garden would be open so you could time it right. chan was as usual more than happy to accompany you to your adventures of your fascination.

“sure, here you go.” you smiled at the woman and showed her the two tickets you had ready in your phone. she gave you a nod, then gestured for you to pass through the door that lead into the museum. “so, we look around inside for a bit, then go out to the botanical gardens when the sun has fully risen? it was a bit cold out still.” you suggested, chan nodding along as he thought it was a great idea.

you quickly found the first exhibit in a massive room filled with glass cages of ancient artifacts, informational plaques, and huge replicas of what once used to be.

“the fact that something that big walked the same earth as us is beyond me.” chan spoke as he looked at a model of a dinosaur that was six to seven times taller than the both of you.

“brachiosaurus stood 12 meters tall and 23 meters long.” you read from the text written on the wall next to the massive creature. “and it was technically not that long ago either, in the grand scheme of things.” you quickly added as you looked further down on the information on the dinosaur. ”considering the planet is 4.3 billion years old, and these fuckers lived 145 million years ago.. that’s only like three percent of the worlds existence.”

“nope, no, nah, absolutely not, you got me spiralling, we have to move onto something else.” chan cut you off, grabbing your shoulders and pushing you away from the late jurassic period. you couldn’t help but chuckle at his actions, but let him steer you around nonetheless.

you roamed the different exhibits for a while longer until you decided to leave for the gardens. as soon as you made your way out on the grand steps that lead down and into the gardens, you felt your breath get knocked out of you. the sight before you was one pulled out of a movie, and you instantly felt the need to wear a long, flowy dress and run barefoot through the hedges. smell the flowers, look at the fish in the pond, and just dance around like the main character in your own fantasy.

“this is stunning.” you breathed out, not moving as you took it all in. chan grinned at your reaction and took a step towards you so we was now behind you. he wrapped his arms around you and rested his head on your shoulder, placing a soft kiss on your skin.

“let’s go.” he whispered into the crook of your neck, then let you go. he started walking down the marble staircase that lead down to the grass, but soon noticed you weren’t behind him. he turned around to see you in the exact spot he left you in, chuckling as he looked at you. he reached his hand out for you to grab, even though you couldn’t reach it without stepping forwards.

“you look like a prince.” you grinned. he was dressed in business casual attire, his hair not in any headwear for once, and the way he held out for you made him look like the main love interest in the fantasy you had built in your head.

“as long as you’re my princess.” he smiled back at you, it being enough for you to move your feet and grab his hand as he lead you down the stairs and into the botanical garden.

[aotopmha]

I'm done with the Final Fantasy 14 MSQ for now.

It's so strange to see that "To be continued..." on the MSQ quest label.

And whenever I aim to talk about MSQ in a general sense, I face choice paralysis because there is so much to it.

It's partially why I said almost nothing about Heavensward before moving on to Stormblood.

I just wanted to keep playing AND there was a lot to talk about.

I think I would like to bring these posts full circle, though.

I started actually playing the game back in November of last year, but I stumbled upon and got invested in the story I think around six months prior to Endwalker release, somewhere in the WoW exodus window (around July of 2021, I think, by seeing a few playthroughs of A Realm Reborn).

I think it's the Coils of Bahamut raid series and then the patch content finale of A Realm Reborn that got me truly invested to be exact – I think I initially skipped through a lot of ARR, watching a condensed playthrough, but those parts I sat through in full.

Both had some really smart, consistent writing in them despite relying on quite commonly used tropes, which also shone through the awkward voice acting and tedious redundant questing.

And this continued and got better as time went on.

Heavensward and Stormblood further added character and thematic complexity and Shadowbringers and Endwalker in turn built upon that while much improving narrative pacing, leading to one of my favourite fantasy stories ever.

While Stormblood and Shadowbringers in particular much improved the game in terms of gameplay, as well.

This game remains one of the hardest games for me to recommend because of the redundant questing for much of the first three expansions, particularly in the base games.

Particularly Stormblood really is kind of just the same storyline with a different faction for six different zones and not even Shadowbringers and Endwalker are truly free of redundancy with sections like Il Mheg, the leadup to Mt Gulg, Bestways Burrow and Labyrinthos.

A Realm Reborn, Heavensward and Stormblood are now all free and can be played without playtime restrictions, so I can at least encourage just taking your time and not rushing through because meeting the game halfway, on its own terms lead to the most enjoyment on my part, but if you are really looking for a story/game that "never wastes your time", Final Fantasy 14 is not it.

It cares about even the smallest worldbuilding details to a ridiculous degree and at times does send you several layers deep into a quest to the point of the initial goal of it getting buried. I think it's the most frustrating with A Realm Reborn where it really gets in the way of pacing and no matter how neat the high points are, this can take the satisfaction out of any of the payoff you have because it took you so long to get there.

Almost everything you do will eventually matter, but to varying degrees, but it's still *almost* everything and sometimes it matters in relatively small ways.

When all is said and done, we have a complete web of a story with many characters and worlds, touching on many themes, which is in my opinion brought together and concluded in an incredibly satisfying way.

And I kind of see the same journey for the gameplay. By 90 all of the jobs I have unlocked and used feel complete and distinct, some simpler, some more complex, but complete and distinct, and most importantly fun.

So if I'm in the mood for chilling I play Bard, Sage or Dark Knight (the last of which I enjoy to the point of maining right now), but if I want more brain work and super satisfying rotation completion, I play Red Mage or Dragoon.

And Bard, Red Mage and Dragoon, for example, are very different from each other as well.

I've seen a bunch of talk about homogeneity between jobs now, but to me as a casual, the roles at least feel very different from each other.

Bard's DoT management and movement freedom is very different from Dragoon's constantly rolling GCD/OGCD management, which in turn is very different from Red Mage's dualcast and cast time management, which in turn is very different from Sage's shielding/healing (also healing via attacks), which in turn is very different from Dark Knight's mitigation/damage management and pulling/boss positioning role.

And to me the biggest proof of that is getting lost when I take a break from a specific job for a longer period of time. If they truly were all of the same, this would not be an issue.

I guess, as I said in one of the posts at the start of my journey, I found the one MMO I like in terms of gameplay.

The animations for the jobs feel satisfying, getting new buttons for the jobs feels satisfying.

People keep insisting Dragoon plays bad early on, but I still had fun as early as just getting my jump and base combo and before that (and after) I just had my hands full learning how the game works and feels in general. I had some brain work/fun happening since level 1.

And part of that feeling are the encounters themselves, I think.

They essentially just made single player game encounters within multiplayer context and I feel in general MMO-like games are beholden to a specific idea of what fight encounters look like, which just does not gel with me.

A huge part of me not really wanting to check out World of Warcraft aside from the story structure feeling off/strange, what the toxic elements of the community look like or the main selling point being the endgame hardcore raiding, which you need to basically dedicate massive amounts of time for to keep up with, is the encounter design and how that looks to me.

I'm told it definitely has better netcode than FF14, and I believe it, but it unfortunately doesn't look as satisfying to execute to me. On a casual level bosses also literally seem to die with a couple of attacks.

You never know before you play, but based on all of the research I've done on WoW, it just does not click with me.

And that's the reason Runescape combat doesn't do much for me, either. The encounters don't feel satisfying on the most basic level.

Runescape is the perfect grindy MMO; super great second monitor game, imo, but its combat is basically you just standing there. You click on an enemy and watch it die.

There is a skill to managing your stuff and it is quite complex in a high level setting from what I've researched, but it just doesn't do anything for me personally.

There is something about the simple visual language and indicators that feels good to me, even if you sometimes get blown away by an attack 3 seconds after it should hit.

So many MMOs are basically grindfests that involve you watching hundreds of mobs who do nothing die.

And so many feel like directionless sandboxes, which might be fun to be in for a bit, but don't get you invested, be it in terms of gameplay or story.

So FF14 is, in fact, the first MMO I like in terms of combat gameplay and encounter design because it has them to begin with.

But again, if you want jobs and combat to immediately feel complete and super complex, Final Fantasy 14 is probably not for you.

A more critical, negative perspective will say it starts off slow and pretty shallow, a positive perspective will call it a slow burn that will reward you.

I'm of the latter opinion.

The game does have an option to buy a skip to endgame, though and as much as I love the story and think the leveling process does teach you to play, I think skipping the story if it doesn't do anything for you is also an option if you just want to try playing.

It is always possible go back via New Game+ and even free trial accounts can make 8 different characters in total, so you can just restart with a new character.

In fact, I think clicking through and skipping cutscenes to skip the story is an option, too, to save that skip money if you don't mind spending a little more time.

But this game has so much different content aside from the story, your simple dungeons and raiding. Before Stormblood was free, some subbed just for mahjong in the Gold Saucer.

There are fishing/crafting mains, housing mains, glamour and RP mains, Deep Dungeon mains (which are big dungeons with 200 levels for the first one and 100 for the other two), Gold Saucer has many mini games in fact.

There is an entire solo class (and we are getting another one in Dawntrail), which is its own challange in Blue Mage (Beastmaster is set to be the new one).

Even having finished MSQ, there is so much I haven't tried yet.

So something might click even if the story or dungeons/raiding don't.

It is the first subscription for a game that has felt worth my money every month I've paid and played so far.

And an entry level one is just fine. There is a cash shop, but you don't ever have to interact with it nor is it shoved in your face all of the time.

I will say, the Mogstation/Square Enix site is awful. Everything worked out relatively painlessly initially for me to pay, but everything I've done there after that has been a headache.

In terms of buying the game, if you aren't invested already, currently I'd actually wait for the Dawntrail complete edition to get Shadowbringers, Endwalker and Dawntrail for the same price and I absolutely 100% recommend the free trial as the start despite some of the limitations.

It'll save a bunch of money.

All of that said, I absolutely do recommend the game. It's been an absolutely wonderful 6ish months for me, during which I've had a massive blast and generally really positive vibes, the asterix here is simply to expect a game or story that is more of a slow burn.

The flaws are pretty obvious and if they annoy you too much from the start, this game probably isn't for you, if they don't, I think you'll grow to like it or will have a great time to begin with because a lot of people, including myself, really do still like A Realm Reborn.

[sleepsentry]

I saw your “Muse” rendition of Bill and Ford for the first time a few months ago and it’s had a chokehold on me ever since. I fuckin LOVE your style I love how organic and, like, round(????) everything is,, I love your colors I love they way you draw the way faces pull and smush with expression I love just scrolling through your acct

Thank you! That "roundess" you're talking about is probably a product of me growing up with French/Belgian comics from the 1960s to 1990s (they where my dad's and grandparent's).

I loved how animated everything looked and I would try and incorporate some of that dynamism into my art.

Thanks for leaving a message! I'm very glad some of my stylistic inspiration is visibly paying off. :]

Feel free to skip the info dump below.

INFO DUMP:

They have a very dynamic and exaggerated style that is used in serious or silly tones very effectively. It works well for both and I always appreciated the more flexible attitude to tone and contents that they had, it didn't feel as sectioned into demographics as American or British stories often where.

There was no "child" or "adult" style, at least not as obviously. There where stylistic differences and tonal differences, but not as strict. Obviously I wasn't reading the stories with war and death and guns in them, there was a "kids section".

There are a lot of different series out there, but I mostly read the older ones we already owned.

There where a few series from the 2000s we had issues of but most of the "modern" comics I read where from old comic magazine issues from the early 2000s to the early to mid 2010s.

I grew up on a lot of the "classic" series:

My dad and grandparent's tastes clearly preferred the more comedic or light-hearted stories.

There where more serious stories, that where very Indiana Jones, Lupin the III, James Bonde, and other cis/hetero/male power fantasies.

Globe trotting, paternal colonial undertones, two French guys in the 70s to 90s writing about very serious issues as the backdrop of their stories.... you get the idea. --r----a----c-----i-----s-----t----

[OK so I've tried making this post ten times now and it's not been saving to my drafts. The only reason I can think of is me mentioning the "dated" elements of the older stories in their "less than kind depictions of women and minorities." Yep, changed the wording and it saved just fine. :/]

These stories where predictably shitty in that sense, in a very casual way, rather than being incredibly hateful or loud about it. An alternative flavour of horrible?

Lots of inaccurate and harmful caricatures.

On a completely different note:

If these stories where more well known in America this Z guy would be a tumblr sexy man.

And Gaston LaGaffe would be a tumblr sillyman: He's very cute. ^^

Neurodivergent King. :]

First character that made me understand what a "man" was, in a way that made sense to me.