#actually this would be a fun study series for fabric

[miyaxnala]

posting this here as a way to motivate myself to finish this (hopefully). done for my color theory class where our palette had to consist of some muted colors and one saturated color :)

[cevansbrat0007]

Indecent Exposure Pt. III: Poolside Promises

Summary: You convince Ari to finally let you have a little fun this summer. But at what cost? Check out Part One!

Warnings: Mature Themes, Ari Being A Menace, Brat!Reader, Dad's Best Friend Themes, Older Men/Younger Women Themes, Brief Allusion to Oral Sex, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Please heed all warnings. Part of my Indecent Exposure Series. If you'd like to be added to the tag list, please let me know.

Almost Two Weeks After Your Father's Departure...

You glide through the water effortlessly, seeking a brief relief from the summer heat. While the news had promised you and everyone else that today’s weather would be one for the books, the warnings still hadn’t been enough to prepare you for the heat that assailed you the moment you’d stepped out the back door. 

However, it’s not until you allow your head to break through the surface that you realize you were no longer alone. You had company. And he was also staring at you.

Again. It was something he had a habit of doing.

“Can I help you?” It’s a flatly delivered question. 

The man only shrugs, dragging a hand through his shaggy, chestnut brown locks. Frankly, he looked so much like his brother you were almost surprised that you’d never really noticed just how many similarities they actually shared.

Same striking blue eyes. Same massive build. Same chiseled jaw that looked great with or without a beard. But where Steve always possessed an aura or control, Ari emanated something a little more raw and untamed. 

You found found that it sometimes did funny things to those annoying butterflies that had seemingly taken up residence in your belly these days.

“Did you need something?” You try as you continue to tread water in the middle of the pool.

“Nothing you're quite prepared to give, sweet Clover.” Ari responds cryptically, his head cocking to the side as he continues to survey you. 

“Then why the hell do you keep staring at me?”

That was another thing you’d recently come to learn about Ari over the last couple of days. He didn’t seem to care whenever you decided to take a spicy tone with him – a fact you’d discovered when you’d found him sitting in your father’s study just the other morning.

You’d been so happy until that moment, especially since you’d previously been granted three days free of Bucky, Steve, and Andy. Your time alone had been glorious, even if it had proved to be short lived. 

You watch the older man closely, fascinated by the increasingly pronounced tick in his jaw. Hell, if he was allowed to stare then so would you. However, the question was, who would blink first?

Turns out, that award belonged to Ari. 

Humming a tune under his breath, he proceeds to grab a lawn chair before pulling it closer to the edge of the pool. Neither one of you says a word as he takes a seat, his sinewy muscles bunching and flexing beneath the thin fabric of his light gray t-shirt. 

“Just came out here to check on you.” He reaches up to scratch at his beard. “See how you were managing in this heat.”

“I’m managing by planning to spend all afternoon in the pool, like any other sane person would.”

“Ya know, I’m pretty sure Bucky and the boys made it clear that they don’t appreciate your little penchant for snark.” He muses, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.  

Probably. You inwardly concede. It definitely hasn't been winning you any favors. Which is why you often preferred to play the part of a mute. Whenever they allowed you to, that is.

“Doesn’t seem to bother you.” You respond honestly before closing your eyes and flipping your body so that you can float on your back, giving Ari a glimpse of your peaches and cream-colored bikini.

“That’s cuz’ not too much bothers me. I don’t allow it.” 

“Hmm…” You spread your arms, silently wishing you could simply float away from this conversation entirely. “Maybe you should talk to the others about that. Seems like I find a new way to piss them off every time I open my mouth.” 

“Nah.” Ari shrugs away your words as he continues to appear unbothered by the heat. “Something tells me they don’t quite know just what to do with a pretty little thing like you.” 

“Oh. And you do?” Well, you could safely say that you hadn’t been expecting that answer. 

“I’d certainly like to think so.” 

His statement hangs in the air as you both fall silent. While you weren’t quite sure what your would-be caretaker was talking about, it was definitely enough to make you think. And it’s at that moment that you decide to change tactics. Instead of floating here annoyed, perhaps it was time to use Ari’s seemingly indulgent personality to your benefit. 

A friend of yours was throwing a party tonight. And you wanted to go. 

When you’d previously brought it up to Bucky and Steve, they’d both hemmed and hawed over the subject – asking you all kinds of questions and refusing to give you anything more than a non-committal “we’ll have to see” or "we'll have to sit down and talk about it". And when you’d tried to play the ultimate trump card by calling your father, he’d sided with them. 

“I’m not there, pumpkin.” Your Dad had said while you’d been holed-up pouting in your room. “I asked your Uncles to watch over you, which means I’m gonna have to defer to them in situations like this one."

And, as luck would have it, you hadn’t been able to get your answer before they’d just up and disappeared on you like the overbearing assholes they were proving themselves to be.

“Yeah, well, I’m not sure I trust the judgment of anyone who’s crazy enough to sit out here in this heat and roast – not when there’s a perfectly good pool, like, right in front of them.”

“Not sure that pool of yours is big enough for the both of us.” Ari mutters, scrubbing a hand over his jaw. Although you get the feeling he’s talking more to himself than you. 

“It’s plenty big.” You eagerly reassure him, adjusting your position so that you can float closer to where your pseudo-guardian is sitting. “See? There’s aaall this space.”

For a second Ari appears unsure. And the closer you get, there’s no denying the fact that he was finally showing signs of feeling the heat. It’s hard to miss the thin line of sweat dotting along his brow.

“C’mon…” You urge, playfully splashing him. “Don’t be such a hard ass, Uncle Ari.” You decide to tack on the last bit for his benefit, all the while trying hard to keep the edge out of your tone. But if he notices, he thankfully doesn’t comment.

“Fine. Melt.” You heave an exasperated sigh when he still doesn’t move. Climbing onto a nearby pool raft, you turn your attention back to your companion. “Jesus, you guys are always so serious, like all of the time. I mean, what’s wrong with having a little fun?”

“Alright.” That’s all you get before he reaches to pull his shirt over his head, revealing the sculpted body hiding beneath.

You scarcely have the chance to appreciate the sight before you’re treated to the sound of a splash. You let out a squeal as water goes splashing everywhere, rewetting your already rapidly drying body. Seconds later, Ari’s head breaks through the water.

“Happy now, princess?” He disappears again, only to reappear closer to where you’re currently lounging. 

“Depends.” 

“On?” He asks, seemingly content to tread water alongside you. You’d be lying to yourself if you didn’t at least admit that the man was kind of attractive.

Or, as your friends had put it, sexy as hell. Yeah, you weren’t quite sure how you felt about that one.

“Well…” You hedge, giggling when he splashes you to encourage you to hurry up.

“Out with it, Clover. A closed mouth doesn’t get fed.” Or fucked. He silently adds.

“There’s this party I kinda wanted to go to tonight. All my friends will be there and I haven't really had the chance to celebrate my birthday with them yet.” You finish, your teeth going to worry your bottom lip. 

Ari studies you for a moment as he tries to figure out the best way to respond. “What did Uncle Steve and the others say?” He already knew that you'd asked them, and he wanted to make it clear that he’s not one to be so easily manipulated. “I’m assuming you asked them first.”

“They said “maybe”. Well, two of them did anyway. But then they left without ever giving me a real answer.” 

“I see.” He offers you a cheeky grin while pausing to swat at a wayward fly. “Maybe we should call them. See if they’ve finally made up their minds–.” 

“No!” You shoot straight up on your perch, accidently flipping the raft and sending you tumbling back into the icy cool water. You come up sputtering and coughing, and while you can’t quite tell, you’re also fairly certain that Ari is laughing at you.

“You all good?”

“Yeah.” You gag, hating the taste of chlorine. 

Ari nods before moving to retrieve your float. He’s even kind enough to hold it still long enough for you to climb back on it again. Only once he’s satisfied that you’re secure does he seem interested in continuing the conversation. 

“So…it sounds like you really wanna go to this party. Don’t you, Clover?” 

“Yes.” You breathe, refusing to say anything more than that just in case he was actually considering it. You’re so desperate that you don’t even balk when he begins swimming towards the edge of the pool, dragging you along with him. He doesn’t speak again until he’s reached his destination. 

“Tell me, will there be any drinking at this party?”

“Wha–no!”

“Now’s not the time to lie to me, princess. Will people be drinking at this party?” He reaches up to cup your chin, his brilliant blue eyes boring into yours as if he's attempting to unravel all of your secrets.

One by one.

“I swear! Grace’s parents would positively kill her if they found out she threw that kind of party.”

Ari quietly mulls over your answer before deeming it to be honest enough for his liking. “How about boys?”

Fuck. While you couldn’t be honest, you also didn’t want to lie. Not when you were this close to getting what you wanted. Which was freedom. 

“Her little brother will be there. He’s a couple grades below us. But it's not like she can kick him out or anything.”

“Just her little brother, huh?” You could tell he was feeling more than a little skeptical. However, you’re surprised when he seemingly lets it slide. Releasing his grip on your chin, he gives you a little push, content to let you float away. 

“I swear. We can’t do anything too crazy with him around – he’d rat us out sooo fast.”

Please believe me. Please believe me. Please believe me. 

Holding your breath, you watch as he climbs out of the water. He makes a beeline for your towel, patting himself dry to the best of his ability before draping it over his shoulder. 

“Okay, sweetheart. I might be willing to make an executive decision on this one, provided you’re willing to do something for me in return. Something that’ll keep at least some of the heat off of me when it comes to dealing with Steve and the boys.”

What you didn't know was that they had already discussed your desire to attend this party – him, Bucky, Andy, and Steve – and they'd decided that the answer was "no". But since you'd gone the last couple days without throwing a tantrum, Ari felt inclined to give you what you wanted. It also helped that he found your bratty ways to be rather endearing.

So long as you weren't outrightly disrespectful.

“Anything.” The word flies out of your mouth before you can catch it. And just like that, that damn tick in his jaw is back.

“The only way I feel comfortable enough letting you go is if you promise to text me every 30 minutes. Doesn’t have to be long. Just a message to let me and the other guys know you’re okay.”

What the hell?

You open your mouth to protest before deciding you’re better off not. Right now, you’d take the win and try to renegotiate the rest later. 

“Take it or leave it, princess.” 

“I’ll take it!” You reply, albeit probably a little too enthusiastically. “Thank you so much!”

Ari doesn’t even crack a smile. Instead that damned tick of his only seems to grow even more pronounced. “Alright.” With that, he turns and begins striding towards the door. “I’ll, uh…I’ll get you another towel.” He pauses once he reaches his destination, turning to face you once more. 

“And Clover?”

“Yeah?” You call back, feeling happier than you have in almost two whole weeks. 

“Don’t make me regret this." Ari rumbles, allowing you to get a good, long look at his muscled, hair covered chest. "I'd hate for my kindness to come back and bite me in the ass. It would be a shame to start the summer off on such a bad note.”

“I…”

His words leave you so speechless that you can only watch as Ari proceeds to waltz through the sliding door, leaving you outside all alone once more. But not before reiterating his promise to bring you another towel so that you can get ready for lunch.

“Well, fuck…” Is all you can muster before rolling yourself off your float and into the cooling expanse of the water. You swim down to the bottom, touching the floor with both hands as you work to center yourself. 

You hold your breath for as long as you’re able before the need for oxygen forces you to resurface. As you greedily gulp air into your burning lungs you tell yourself not to give a fuck about Ari and his bullshit. Instead, you decide to focus on the most important aspect of tonight, namely…

Just what in the hell were you going to wear?

END

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[illamda-spaminations]

An analysis on Sherlock and William [with Watson propaganda at the end]

Spoilers for Moriarty the Patriot [more specifically "the Noahtic" and "the Final problem", with brief mentions of "two criminals" on the side ;) [pretty much everything] Another long post lol

The very first introduction of Sherlock is in "the Noahtic", where William finally kickstarts the Moriarty plan.

The obvious highlight of the whole episode is Sherlock's character and, more importantly, his dynamic with William. So far, we have seen William solving certain puzzles [example: William's childhood] by using already established facts. We know that William is not afraid to bend the rules, fabricate evidence if there are none in order to catch the culprit and generally does things that would absolutely not fly in a court room. But the reason why he does this is why he is the main character, and not the villain. He wants to establish a world where the class system doesn't exist, a world which does not bury the thousands of possible geniuses that could shine and make the world a better place. He is willing to sacrifice anything so that people, and the people he cares for, can see that world, to reap the rewards he had sown, even if it means that he can't live to see it. His method is wrong but his goal is right, making him much more nuanced.

"The end justifies the means."

Sherlock, on the other hand, uses facts that have a high probability of being true, which means that sometimes he can be wrong [about William being the Lord of Crime and not considering his brothers as well] and his deductions are forced [something William pointed out himself]. Sherlock also plays by the rules, he's never the one to fabricate evidence, because the thrill in solving a crime is the process of solving itself. If he fabricates evidence to catch the culprit, where's the fun and frustration of a good mystery? Why would he bother to crack a case when he can take the easy way out?

One thing I noticed about Sherlock that not a lot of people talk about is that he's not THAT good, morally speaking. Case and point, A Study in S. This episode is mostly around Sherlock, Watson and their first case together, with my personal favorite part, being the offer given by Jefferson Hope and it's aftermath.

This whole episode is a clear cut test for Sherlock and shows the audience where he is in the morality scale. In the end, Sherlock is left with two choices; he can either choose to shoot Hope, an already dying man, and therefore reveal the identity of Lord of Crime, the mastermind behind the case. Or he could choose not to, never to have conformation on the mastermind's true identity. Sherlock inevitably chooses not to shoot Hope, but that doesn't mean he did it purely out of the goodness of his heart. He did it partially because the offer itself was not interesting enough and because of Watson. Had William tweaked the contract just a bit and Watson not been there to stop Sherlock, we could have seen a very different ending. But what interests me the most is the aftermath of the decision.

In the episode "The two detectives", we see Sherlock actually regretting the fact that he did not shoot Hope. Hell, he even starts to dream about it and it frustrates him so much he starts to look into other cases in the hopes of coming across another big mystery, a mystery secretly orchestrated from the Lord of Crime. This is a clear indicator that Sherlock is still flawed. While William respects him and says he should be the "hero" of the Moriarty plan, that doesn't mean he is morally great. He is, at the end of the day, not as righteous as William, which is one of the characteristics that makes Sherlock want to save William, despite his actions.

Funnily enough, Watson is the one of the few people that is mostly good in this whole series. I mean, look at him, he's too precious for this world

He's the person who pops the champagne when Sherlock solves another grand mystery, but that doesn't mean he's afraid to knock some sense into Sherlock when he does something that he should have not done, like, Milverton's murder.

This scene was probably the one that has the most parallels to William and his brothers [or pretty much everyone in Moriarty & co.]. He wasn't sad that he had to taint his hands for a friend. He was pissed off at him, berating him for ever thinking that this would make him happy at all. After all, murder is still murder, no matter the consequences. And wasn't Sherlock the one who placed himself in a high and mighty place by swearing to capture the Lord of crime, despite his "noble intent"? I don't think it's much of a stretch to say that this is how the Moriarty brothers, or maybe the entire crew, feels about William's grand sacrifice. They don't want him to take all the blame and die for it. They don't want William to put in so much effort, only to not see the fruits of his labor. Why would William think that this would make them happy? That they would want to be in a world, knowing that they could have stopped it and bearing the regret and grief that came after the plan? The only reason why the Moriarty plan had that resolution was because William didn't know a better way to atone for his sins. Sherlock was the only one to call him out for it, to say that it was a cowardly way to atone. He made William realize that no one would be happy with this ending, just like Watson did with Sherlock.

TLDR; Watson deserves more love, and if he didn't smack Sherlock for killing a man, William would not have realized his mistake at all [I wasn't kidding with the title lol]

I genuinely did not plan on Watson showing up but here we are [just like William didn't in "A Study in S" ayyyy amiright] [Please k!ll me].

[natequarter]

hello! do you happen to have any fic recs for ghosts (bbc)? i dont want to be mean because i think its great that people are writing for it! but a lot of the ones ive seen reduce the characters quite a bit? thanks. LOVE your ghosts and dr who fics btw theyre fantastic!! :)

oh thank you! my recommendations concerning the ghosts in general would be:

Chit-Chat by xenolinguist. a chatfic which is not my usual style but is a really fun work focusing on alison, mike, and all the ghosts

Fabrications by SwaggerStick. an incredibly funny piece which puts a new spin on series four's, er, piss lore

And So On and So Forth by V_Evergreen. this is probably the number one fic out of any ghosts fic that i would recommend. the moment between fanny and alison is one of the most perfect moments i've read in any ghosts fanfic. i cannot stress enough how much i love this work

We Are Dead And Buried (yet our ghosts might still learn) by someoneplsloverobbierotten. a long fic focusing on robin and an original character, but absolutely worth it. artemis' internal conflict is fascinating, and his personality thoroughly developed

House Share by Sheepyblue. from mike's perspective, detailing his attempts to bond with the ghosts. bar julian, none of the ghosts make an actual appearance here (for the obvious reason that mike can't see them), but it's nonetheless a very good study of mike's character, his relationship with alison, the ghosts themselves, and what it must be like to be alone even surrounded by people

Don't Let The Good Life Pass You By by Impossibly_Izzy. what if the ghosts came back to life? what if pat (and julian) were forced to reconcile his new life he's found with the ghosts with the old life he can never go back to? worst of all, what if humphrey had to shave off his beard? this fic answers all of these vital questions, and more. and it's well-written to boot!

Ghost of a Kind by LostKagamiWitchInTheIsles. another fic with an oc ghost which is pulled off very well. if i had a nickel for every time i'd read a fic with the premise, "what would happen if another ghost were added to button house (and didn't like the main gang)?" i'd only have two nickels, but both are brilliant. i love cordelia dearly, and i think you all should too

ere ever aeneas began by TheGoodDoctor. i honestly don't know where to begin with this one. it's very much one of a kind. basically, bbc ghosts, but from the perspective of... trees. [robin voice] you had to be there

Button House B&B by quiet_crisis_in_the_corner. an influencer visits button house. keith leaves a review. the ghosts help nobody at all. all in all, a pretty average and awful day at button house. the first two chapters are absolutely hilarious, and that's that

Thick Skull by thehappybones. rather than dying at button house, pat just about survives being struck by an arrow. decades later, he returns to the house after the recent death of his wife, carol, and finally confronts those damned ghosts. a quietly sweet what-if

Nothing Like a Round on 'The Krypton Factor' by neverfaraway. pat/captain, but more generally a work focusing on alison and her relationship with the ghosts. appeasement doesn't work on anyone, least of all dead people. feels as warm and friendly as an actual episode of ghosts, and as accurate to their voices too

humphrey-centric:

'Tis not hereafter by attend_the_tale. humphrey/original female character, with that relationship being the focus and his relationship with sophie the background context. i would be remiss not to mention the author's other work, Present Mirth Hath Present Laughter, along with it, since they have the same strengths: lovely characterisation of humphrey and sophie, a vibrant and realistic original character, and such a brilliant, deft depiction of elizabethan england. the prose, too, is wonderful

so uncomfortably alone (but not for long!) by hounds_of_love. captain/pat/humphrey, from humphrey's perspective. a lovely and very touching fic in which humphrey's loneliness is remedied, and also three idiots kiss, which is how i like my fanfiction

Battles of the Bones by thelastplantagenet. humphrey/sophie, set in the 1500s. concerns a timeline where humphrey and sophie actually learn to like each other, fall in love, kill the queen... you know, the usual. again works with its historical setting rather than against it, and the author has a wonderful knack for humphrey's voice in particular. i'm once again rereading this one. it's good

robin-centric:

songs for dads by whimsicaliity. better entitled, "the fic that cradled my heart, then smashed it to pieces." eerily reminiscent of gone gone, despite being written long before series four came out. i have reread this many times. i have had my heart stomped on many times. i cannot recommend this enough. robin/julian, until it isn't

Witness by TheArchaeologist. what can i say, except that this is a fantastic character study of robin? he's old, he's seen a lot and lost a lot, and he's hilarious. relatively short, but effective with its words

Made Our Cave An Everywhere by MadameReveuse. chess husbands, alternating between robin and julian's perspectives, detailing julian coming to terms with his death. i love fic which deals with julian experiencing "emotions," as those bleeding-heart libs like to think of them

It by Scriblit. emotionally devastating, but so well-done. a look at robin's relationships with all the ghosts, from humphrey to julian, but in particular his connections to mary and julian - and how robin and julian respectively deal with those relationships and the grief of losing mary. a fantastic addition to gone gone, but ouch, my heart

It's Pronounced "Rrogh" by vex_ing. this is a favourite of mine not just because it was inspired by a post i wrote, but because it's a wonderfully written character piece, and a beautiful explanation of just where robin got his name from

moon woman (his moon woman) by fivecenturiesverse. such a lovely exploration of the relationship between robin and mary, as well as robin's age and his connection to the moon. i have a soft spot for mary/robin, and the way that mary grows and changes here is also wonderful

The 62,019 Year-Old Dictionary by Robin Caveman by Turtle_ier. i am beyond obsessed with robin's perspective on life, and while i haven't read this one over in a while, it's a great portrayal of robin. the way it plays around with format also stands out to me

thomas-centric:

By the Fire by scribehotan. focuses on nigel the plague ghost, and his budding friendship with thomas thorne. a lovely, soft piece, with a very cosy setting. deals with nigel's plague-related insecurities, and gives thomas some nuance, which is more or less an instant way to my heart

What Twisted Webs We Weave by The_Purple_Opossum. a canon-divergent fic from isabelle's perspective, in which isabelle nearly dies and discovers that she is, in fact, haunted. by thomas. i think this is one of my favourite depictions of (of all characters) francis button: he puts isabelle down, but is not explicitly cruel, which lines up with what we know of him. so far, it's very well-written - and builds on the warped version of events that isabelle is familiar with, ranging from humphrey's supposed plotting to thomas's supposed duel over shelley

Feeling comes in aid of feeling by Eccentric_Hat. thomas/kitty. lots of lovely character beats, and the development of thomas and kitty's relationship is lovely. has some entertaining discussion of shakespeare - representation of disembodied heads in media is tragically lacking

Eternity With a Nuisance by charliest. focuses more on alison and thomas, but it's a wonderful exploration of both the ghosts' relationship to time and alison's relative mortality. also, anything which gives thomas depth is my shit

I Stand Unsure by midshipmanwilfrid. a brief but touching character study of thomas, focused on his troubled feelings on his own gender. the sort where you come away from it feeling as if you have woken up to a world both the same and fundamentally changed, and are not sure how to feel about it. quietly affecting

Renovations by Ailendolin. thomas-centric, focusing on his emotional repression and struggles with rejection, particularly in relation to his friendship with alison. a beautiful piece on alison and the other ghosts helping him for once. picking just one work for this author was incredibly tough, but this is one of my all-time favourites from both the author and ghosts fanfiction in general

one and the same by wizardmeats. thomas dreams of a happier life with isabelle. pat helps him come to terms with it. a beautiful analysis of thomas's personality, and his bond with pat is very (bitter)sweet

captain-centric:

Land to Light On by sistermichael. a captain/havers modern au, which in general is enough to make me walk away and/or zone out immediately. however! the captain, spain, and only one bed. perfection. the writing style is exquisite; the worldbuilding is skilled; the way it fleshes out havers' character is excellent. very much not something i would normally go for; good enough that i would recommend it anyway

The Blooms of May by kingofthefrogs. fantasy au, captain/pat, enemies to lovers. if you like gideon the ninth, this one's for you. if you like welsh mythology, this one's for you. i love anything with unique worldbuilding (and humphrey/sophie, which this also has), and this one is something unique. i'm hooked

oh, captain, let’s make a deal where we both say the things that we both really feel by seawall. captain/humphrey (or should i say de-cap-itation?), an extended exploration of the captain's developing feelings for humphrey and his dealing with grief. a beautiful work - generally i'm not that interested in the captain, but he's portrayed so well here (and, you know, i love caphrey) that i can't not love it

fieri sentio et excrucior by oui_oui_mon_ami. captain/oc, specifically the captain falling in love with a roman soldier who lives next door. not my usual thing, but a nice read nonetheless

passion and drive by cloudings. captain/thomas, which for some unknown reason i cannot get enough of. elaborates upon the ever-hilarious plot pitch of, "the captain fails to come out to thomas because the idiot thinks the captain's in love with him." one of those ones i keep coming back to

A Kiss, Then by SunriseBirds. also captain/thomas. one that i can say is wonderfully characterised. these two are hopeless idiots, and it's on full display in just how hopelessly idiotic they are here. ten out of ten, would recommend

drug club by Aziz. captain/thomas. the erotics of sharing drugs, a rooftop, and a houseful of ghosts who keep on interrupting your erotics. would you still love me if i was a worm?

(We've Only Got) So Many Tricks by radiocarbonblinddate. pat/captain, focusing on the immediate aftermath of pat's death and how the captain adjusts. beautiful depiction of the ghosts before they were the ghosts we know. cannot recommend this author enough. just read their stuff, and you'll see what i mean

Moving On by Pic_Akai. a very well-written fic in which the captain wakes up in the modern day remembering the events of ghosts, but nobody else except alison does. he helps arrange humphrey's wedding, finds love for himself, and doesn't strangle thomas. very sweet

overall, i would highly recommend anything by any of the authors on this list, but in particular Ailendolin, Sheepyblue, hounds_of_love, and kingofthefrogs. i hope this helps!

[improper-integral]

Hiii

What book/movie/series do you remember was really important in your childhood? You know, one of those that helps shaping your personality and taste and influences you until this day.

What's your favorite clothing item at the moment?

What study field you like in theory but doesnt really get? I wish I could enjoy math to the same extent that you do but it's a different logic and language than the one my brain operates in :( but I appreciate that it exists and it's so cool!!

Hi!! Thanks so much for sending me these questions! 💗

I'll be honest, most of my childhood memories come from later childhood, like when I was around 10ish (so late 90s). I have a hard time remembering shit before then. With that in mind, I'd have to say Pokemon! I played Pokemon Blue on Game Boy back in 98/99 and also watched the beginning of the anime. I was pretty obsessed, when I got my own desktop computer later I started creating my own websites, and my most popular one was a "shrine" to Umbreon (websites that center around certain characters/topics were pretty popular back in 2001 when this happened lol). There were other things I obsessed over back then, but I've been playing Pokemon games pretty consistently throughout my life whereas I haven't really touched anything else from my childhood.

Torrid has this brand of fabric that it labels "super soft" and it has become one of the only fabrics I can tolerate wearing anymore lol. I have a bunch of different dresses that were made in this fabric but with different patterns etc. I wear dresses exclusively and year round so I wear these dresses a lot lmao

I didn't always enjoy math like I do today! I hated it for a long time, it was only after I developed an interest in programming that I eventually came to have an interest in math. I'm not good at all math either lol. I find I'm usually good at things that can be represented with letters and numbers. Languages (my BA is in linguistics), programming (code), math (equations). But when I have to visualize objects in my mind and rotate them etc I struggle pretty bad. I've also never really had hobbies where I do things with my hands. So I might struggle a lot with some/most engineering, at least when it comes to being a technician actually doing things with my hands as opposed to just learning theory. And I think computer engineering would be the worst of them all, but only because I work as a software developer, so people might think I should know how hardware works too, but I don't! I don't know shit lmao!

That was fun! Thanks again, I really appreciate it! 🥰

[viper-mulligan]

FFXIV Write 2024 Prompt 05: Stamp

Summary: Viper writes a letter. Takes place in ARR Patch Quests, three weeks before the banquet.

Rating: T (profanity)

Word Count: 700

A/N: This is part of an ongoing series. Read part one here!

When the gloves arrived in the mail, Viper slid her fingers over the soft fabric and gave an appreciative sigh. Then she lifted the note, and examined the graceful loops and whorls of the Lord Commander's handwriting.

Though no gift can repay Ishgard’s debt to the Warrior of Light, I pray these express the smallest portion of our gratitude. Your friend Haurchefaunt informs me of your interest in clothcraft, so I have included some additional materials for your use. I look forward to our continued alliance, and, as always, am at your service should you require aught else.

Aymeric de Borel

Lord Commander of the Temple Knights

Viper rooted deeper into the package, and found bolts of fabric and spools of thread under the gloves. Her face heated with pleasure.

Thoughtful.

She rushed to her desk and pulled a fresh piece of stationary from the mess of papers and miscellany. Then she sat and began to write. 

Growing up in Little Ala Mhigo, Viper had little opportunity for education. Though she knew her letters, her unpracticed handwriting looked sloppy next to the elegant script of Aymeric's letter. She chewed her lip, hand already cramping from her careful effort. The nib of her pen stabbed through the paper, and she growled in frustration. 

Putting aside her ugly handwriting, what should she actually say? Aymeric was so composed, and she was so… messy. She looked over the few words already written, and rubbed her temple.

Maybe she could ask for help. Who would be best at letter writing? Not Anshul. His writing was worse than hers. Lyra was busy with the Flames. T’kash? Hm, perhaps not. 

She could think of one person who would be excellent at letter writing. With a grimace, she gathered her things and headed to the aetheryte.

—

The door inside the Waking Sands swung open, and Viper marched through. Inside, Urianger slumped over a tome, looking more haggard than ever. Dark shadows hung below his eyes, and his wan expression made Viper's chest tighten.

“I need your help,” she said, plopping a sack onto the table in front of him. “And you need to eat.”

“Thy ministrations are appreciated, but I do not hunger.”

“I don't give a fuck, Urianger,” Viper said, taking the chair opposite him. “You're going to eat, and then we're going outside for a walk. You need air.”

The man opened his mouth to reply, then closed it.

“Thou speakest as she would...”

Viper's chest ached again. 

“Yes,” she said softly. “Because she would want you to thrive, even in your grief. Even when we hurt, we still must eat. I brought you meatballs.”

Urianger ducked his head, hair falling across his face to hide his expression. When he spoke, his voice hitched.

“What aid didst thou seek?”

Viper pulled food from the sack, and slid the steaming container toward him. 

“Can you help me write a letter?”

—

Amidst the endless requisition orders and combat reports came an envelope stamped from Ul'dah. Aymeric slit it open, and unfolded the letter within. He studied the messy script, occasionally re-reading the less legible words.

Lord Commander,

Thank you for the gloves and materials. Ishgard's debt to me is, of course, insurmountable, but these will do for now. Perhaps you could tell me about the Holy See? Do you have a favorite place there? What are the fashions like? And the food?

I look forward to seeing you at the celebration banquet. Have you ever been to Ul'dah? I would consider it a payment toward your debt if you would allow me to show you the best places in the city upon your visit. (Are Temple Knights allowed merriment? If not, I think you should make an exception. I am greatly skilled at having fun.)

Until we meet again, 

Viper Mulligan

Aymeric found himself smiling at the letter. For some reason, a few “thou”s had been crossed out and replaced with “you”s, and misspelled words similarly corrected. 

Merriment was scarce these days. He wondered if he could make an exception. 

After re-reading the letter again, he took a piece of blank stationary and began to write.

[betweenbutterflies]

Hi there! I thought I'd return the favor and ask you (mostly) the same things you asked me!

What book/movie/series do you remember was really important in your childhood?

What's your favorite clothing item at the moment?

You told me that math was an example of a field you like in theory but don't really get. So what field(s) do you like AND also get?

Thanks for answering and sending them back!! I was about to reply your post but it would be the same comments to this ask hakdhaf

I think one of my childhood core media was from when I was 10yo too! There's this Brazilian book series for children, os Karas (something ligh The Guys, The (cool) Kids), about teenagers solving mysteries and combating crime, and i looooved it so much!! I would have my own secret club exchaging encrypted notes with my schoolmates during recess. I didnt realise by then but i projected a lot onto those characters, specially the boys, and have my own fic planned for the adult version of them!! (Technically the author did publish a new book in recent years featuring them as adults but my beloved pedro bandeira simply doesnt Get how they are queer and so i must rectify this!!)

I love wearing onesies/overalls! With different cuts and fabrics, my favorite is a astronaut-inspired one, its a softer cotton fabric so even if its a bit hot weather i can stay comfortable. My favorite tshirt + pants combo is a print shirt by a local graffiti artist and a teal cargo pants!!

About the the field i like and get, what i had in mind when i sent the ask was my hard time as Aesthetics person trying to decode Logical Abstractions!! I love literature and it's the main art I relate to, but i also love visual arts, music, dance, you name it! I have a BA in languages (literature and linguistics, majored in portuguese and english), and something in literature and culture have always seems more real and clearer than linguistics or maths.

But I'm very curious by nature and love learning, I love sciences too! Ironically, i think im the opposite to you: i can deal better with concrete-based data than theory! I'm studying engineering right now, and actually enjoying it! The classes i struggle the most envolve physics and chemistry, but i found im very drawn to geology and biology (im in environmental engineering).

Thanks for the ask, this was very fun!! Love learning more abt a beloved mutual 🤗

[tonispencerart]

Shakespeare & Marlowe: Part One

I did a whole series of mixed media paintings based on the lives and works of William Shakespeare and Christopher Marlowe, and I started by looking at the supposed portraits of them. If you know me in the real world, you'll probably already know that I studied A-level English Literature three times - just for fun. I've always been a bit of a Book Dork, to be fair. I first learned to read when I was 2. I read Shakespeare for the first time when I was 7. And I basically fell in love then and there. Christopher Marlowe was a name I knew of for years but I had never come across any of his works until I did that first year of A-level. One of the plays we studied that first term of the first year was Doctor Faustus (again, a story I knew of but didn't really know anything about) and once again, I instantly fell in love with his writing. After that, I tried to get my hands on as much of it as I could. The character of John Faustus is fascinating, and he's a deeply flawed man for all of his intelligence and status. Doctor Faustus instantly became my favourite play but I have yet to see a full production of it on stage. These days, the only play of his that I don't have a hard copy of is Dido, Queen of Carthage. If you see one around, let me know! They both came from very similar backgrounds and were close in age (there are roughly two months between them). But they seemed to have led very different lives. Also, the way they're both perceived is very different, and entirely unexpected - especially for the time (16th-century England, I mean.) Shakespeare didn't even finish Grammar School in Stratford; but Marlowe not only finished Grammar School in Canterbury, he also attended Corpus Christi College in Cambridge - for both a bachelor's and a master's degree. And yet, Shakespeare is the name damn near everyone knows. I'll explain in more detail when we get to the paintings I made - and why I made them - but their lives are as fascinating as their works are. The final pieces were my interpretations of some of their works (I stuck to personal favourites for time) and events from their personal lives - in as much as we can know anything. They weren't exactly very good at keeping records in 16th-century England... Anyway, I started everything with some small drawings of the supposed portraits of Shakespeare and Marlowe. Everyone recognises Shakespeare, right? Every known and recognisable image of him is based on one painting believed to be of William Shakespeare. It's known as the Chandos Portrait. But... We don't have any real concrete evidence that the man in the painting is actually William Shakespeare. However, there are some things that might suggest it is. It's the only known painting that could have been painted in his lifetime. It shows the man wearing black clothes. Making fabric that dark would have been expensive. By the late 1590s, he was a wealthy man. He is also depicted wearing an earring. It was considered 'Bohemian', showing that the subject of the painting was 'unconventional' and it was popular amongst those in the arts at the time. As for Marlowe's portrait, sadly for us, it probably isn't him. At the time of the painting, he was a student at Cambridge. The painting was found close to what would have been his room while he was a student there, but the likelihood of it being of Marlowe is practically non-existent. He wasn't anybody then. He didn't come from a wealthy family, and he was a scholarship student. It would not make sense for anyone to spend so much money on a portrait of someone with so little significance. Sadly, we'll never know for certain who the man in the portrait is, but what we can say is that it ISN'T Marlowe. But we like to have some kind of idea of what they might have looked like so both portraits are generally accepted as their likenesses.

[w-ht-w]

Wait But Why: How to Pick Your Life Partner

Dissatisfied single people should actually consider themselves in a neutral, fairly hopeful position, compared to what their situation could be. A single person who would like to find a great relationship is one step away from it, ... “1) Find a great relationship.” 

People in unhappy relationships, on the other hand, are three leaps away, with a to-do list of “1) Go through a soul-crushing break-up. 2) Emotionally recover. 3) Find a great relationship.” 

when you choose a life partner, you’re choosing a lot of things, including your parenting partner and someone who will deeply influence your children, your eating companion for about 20,000 meals, your travel companion for about 100 vacations, your primary leisure time and retirement friend, your career therapist, and someone whose day you’ll hear about 18,000 times.

Intense shit. 

--

a great achievement is just what a long series of unremarkable tasks looks like from far away. In the pixel post, we looked at a human life up close and saw that it was just an ordinary Wednesday, again and again and again—and that achieving life happiness was all about learning to be happy on a routine weekday.

I think the same idea applies to marriage/[partnership.]

human happiness doesn’t function in sweeping strokes, because we don’t live in broad summations—we’re stuck in the tiny unglamorous folds of the fabric of life, and that’s where our happiness is determined.

So if we want to find a happy marriage, we need to think small—we need to look at marriage up close and see that it’s built not out of anything poetic, but out of 20,000 mundane Wednesdays.

Marriage isn’t the honeymoon in Thailand—it’s day four of vacation #56 that you take together. Marriage is not celebrating the closing of the deal on the first house—it’s having dinner in that house for the 4,386th time. And it’s certainly not Valentine’s Day.

Marriage is Forgettable Wednesday. Together.

So I’ll leave the butterflies and the kisses in the rain and the twice-a-day sex to you—you’ll work that part out I’m sure—and spend this post trying to figure out the best way to make Forgettable Wednesday as happy as possible.

To endure 20,000 days with another human being and do so happily, there are three key ingredients necessary:

1) An Epic Friendship

I enjoy spending time with most of my friends—that’s why they’re my friends. But with certain friends, the time is so high-quality, so interesting, and so fun that they pass the Traffic Test.

The Traffic Test is passed when I’m finishing up a hangout with someone and one of us is driving the other back home or back to their car, and I find myself rooting for traffic. That’s how much I’m enjoying the time with them.

Passing the Traffic Test says a lot. It means I’m lost in the interaction, invigorated by it, and that I’m the complete opposite of bored.

To me, almost nothing is more critical in choosing a life partner than finding someone who passes the Traffic Test. When there are people in your life who do pass the Traffic Test, what a whopping shame it would be to spend 95% of the rest of your life with someone who doesn’t.

A Traffic Test-passing friendship entails:

A great sense of humor click. No one wants to spend 50 years fake laughing.

Fun. And the ability to extract fun out of unfun situations—airport delays, long drives, errands. Not surprisingly, studies suggest that the amount of fun a couple has is a strong predictor for their future.6

A respect for each other’s brains and way of thinking. A life partner doubles as a career/life therapist, and if you don’t respect the way someone thinks, you’re not going to want to tell them your thoughts on work each day, or on anything else interesting that pops into your head, because you won’t really care that much what they have to say about it.

A decent number of common interests, activities, and people-preferences. Otherwise a lot of what makes you ‘you’ will inevitably become a much smaller part of your life, and you and your life partner will struggle to find enjoyable ways to spend a free Saturday together.

A friendship that passes the Traffic Test gets better and better with time, and it has endless room to deepen and grow ever-richer.

2) A Feeling of Home

Trust and security. Secrets are poison to a relationship, because they form an invisible wall inside the relationship, leaving both people somewhat alone in the world—and besides, who wants to spend 50 years lying or worrying about hiding something? And on the other side of secrets will often be suspicion, a concept that directly clashes with the concept of home. This is why having an affair during an otherwise good marriage is one of the most self-defeating and short-sighted things someone could ever do.

Natural chemistry. Interacting should be easy and natural, energy levels should be in the same vicinity, and you should feel on the same “wavelength” in general. When I’m with someone on a very different wavelength than I am, it doesn’t take long before the interaction becomes exhausting.

Acceptance of human flaws. You’re flawed. Like, really flawed. And so is your current or future life-partner. Being flawed is part of the definition of being a human. And one of the worst fates would be to spend most of your life being criticized for your flaws and reprimanded for continuing to have them. This isn’t to say people shouldn’t work on self-improvement, but when it comes to a life partnership, the healthy attitude is, “Every person comes with a set of flaws, these are my partner’s, and they’re part of the package I knowingly chose to spend my life with.”

A generally positive vibe. Remember, this is the vibe you’re a part of now, forever. It’s not really acceptable for it to be a negative one, nor is it sustainable. 

3) A Determination to be Good at Marriage

Relationships are hard. Expecting a strong relationship without treating it like a rigorous part-time job is like expecting to have a great career without putting in any effort.

So what skills does someone need to learn to be good at marriage?

Communication. Communication being on this list is as silly as “oxygen” being on a list of items you need to stay healthy. And yet, poor communication is the downfall of a huge number of couples—in fact, in a study on divorcees, communication style was the top thing they said they’d change for their next relationship.8 Communication is hard to do well consistently—successful couples often need to create pre-planned systems or even partake in couples’ therapy to make sure it happens.

Maintaining equality. Relationships can slip into an unequal power dynamic pretty quickly. When one person’s mood always dictates the mood in the room, when one person’s needs or opinion consistently prevail over the other’s, when one person can treat the other in a way they’d never stand for being treated themselves—you’ve got a problem.

Fighting well. Fighting is inevitable. But there are good and bad ways to fight. When a couple is good at fighting, they defuse tension, approach things with humor, and genuinely listen to the other side, while avoiding getting nasty, personal or defensive. They also fight less often than a bad couple. According to John Gottman, 69% of a typical couple’s fights are perpetual, based on core differences, and cannot be resolved—and a skilled couple understands this and refrains from engaging in these brawls again and again.

1a. https://waitbutwhy.com/2014/02/pick-life-partner.html

1b. https://waitbutwhy.com/2014/02/pick-life-partner-part-2.html

[mercy-burning]

Your Favorite — Part 3

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: As the summer comes to a close, Spencer and Y/N start feeling a shift in their relationship. Category: SMUT (18+) Content: Adults w/ age gap, thigh riding, exhibitionism, oral sex (male receiving), penetrative/unprotected sex, breeding kink, one line of daddy kink,  Word Count: 4.3k exactly, love how that turned out lol

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | MASTERLIST

NOTE: Thank you all for sticking with me through this long wait, I feel so bad for having to keep putting it off. But I’m very proud of where this ended up, and I’m so glad you’ve all been so excited about it! I had so much fun writing this story, so again, thank you very much for reading and indulging me in this weird fantasy lolol ❤ Love you guys! And, as always, thank you to the lovely Em ( @boldlyvoid ) for being my beta for this series! Your feedback and support has been a big help from the start, ILY

———

AUGUST 12th

"I don't wanna hear a single word, understand?"

Not like I have a choice; As soon as the harsh whisper leaves Spencer's mouth, his hand is covering my own and my back is being pressed up against the wall of the storage closet.

But that's all he does. I wait for him to make a move, but instead he insists on being a tease.

"What? You've been trying to get my attention all night, and now that you have it, you're not gonna do anything with it?"

"I want you to do it for me," I mumble into his hand.

He shoves me harder into the wall and slots his knee in between my legs, spreading them apart and making me sigh.

"You wanted it so bad... So take it..."

Watching the amusement dance through his features as I grind down on his leg and whine into his mouth only excites me more, right next to the knowledge that downstairs the house is congested with people visiting to celebrate my mom's new promotion at work.

Needless to say, it doesn't take me very long to start feeling my stomach tense. My hips are wild as they roll over his leg, whines spewing from my mouth and into his hand. I look up into his eyes, doing my best to show him how much I could never grow tired of this, and he returns the favor by lifting his leg higher and giving me more friction.

In no time at all, I'm shuddering against him, feeling his hand press harder into my mouth to muffle the high-pitched whines that I can't help but expel.

"Nice and quick... Good girl..." Spencer muses, slowly peeling himself away from me. "You're really looking forward to being spoiled later, aren't you..."

The grin that spreads over my face is unwavering. "Definitely. Knowing Mom, she'll be passed out cold in like an hour."

I know I'm the one who brought her up, but it still stings a little when Spencer smiles fondly. "Yeah, she's a lightweight alright... You sure you can handle all this time without me until then?"

Despite the butterflies I get when he says it, mischievous and downright delectable, his hands reach out to grab my waist and pull me closer to him, I roll my eyes. "You underestimate me."

He studies my face for a moment, a pretty smile flashing before me in the dim light before he kisses my cheek. "Sure."

And when he leaves, I wait.

Minutes later, my skin still burns from his touch.

———

The moment my eyes open the next morning, it all comes back in flashes.

His lips are on my skin, travelling lower and lower...

His hands trail all over my body, featherlight in a way that leaves me with goosebumps.

His tongue starts slow, taking its time to taste me and savor every precious second.

His voice is like the sweetest prayer, whispering praises that leave my head dizzy and my heart pounding.

His lips languidly open and close around the most sensitive parts of my body, in tandem with that sweet, magnificent tongue as each action pulls sighs from the very depths of my soul.

His hands reach up and tangle with mine as he makes me come on his tongue, over and over again until I'm practically numb and the lull of sleep drags me under.

His hands now ghost over my bare skin, along my sides and down to my waist. I hum happily and push back against him when I feel it.

He's hard.

"How long before you think she wakes up?" he whispers in my ear.

"Not long... Maybe we... shouldn't risk i—"

The words fall off a cliff, never to be seen again when he slowly enters me, gripping my leg and forcing it over his own. "I'll be quick."

I can tell, though, that he doesn't want to be. It's present in the way he enters me, over and over with motions that feel rather stunted and definitely too rushed.

"Baby, no," I whine, reaching behind me to hold his hips still with one hand. "Fuck me slow... Don't rush..."

"But... Your mom..."

"Please..."

Spencer sighs, though not from exasperation. No, his breath is long and teeming with relief, hands gently roaming over the entirety of my body as his hips move slower. He's taking his time, relishing every second and feeling me gradually get more slick at his undoing.

His lips are on my neck, not providing marks to match the ones hidden on the inside of my thighs and my chest, but merely resting there. He kisses me in between gentle thrusts, letting out small whimpers of his own when I clench tightly around him.

This...

This is different.

We've had slow morning sex before, but never like this. Somehow, I find myself drifting, like I'm being carried away by his current. There's nothing but me, Spencer, and our breathing... Our bodies, our air, our souls...

This is what I imagine making love feels like.

Which is why I barely notice when it slips from my mouth— Three words that should feel more daunting due to the weight they hold and the way they ultimately change everything. And yet, whispering “I love you,” in a nearly breathless string of syllables feels incredibly natural. It’s more sincere than anything I think I’ve ever told him, so much so that I don’t even think about what it will mean in the long-run. Instead I let it fall from my lips again and again without regret or consequence.

He doesn't stop, either. Spencer continues to fuck me softly, like it's all he knows how to do. In fact, my confession only seems to make him relax more.

And that's what finally pushes me over the edge.

His name escapes my mouth in a whisper that sounds more like a plea not to leave, and he holds me closer to him. Our bodies are flush together, my back resting perfectly against his chest as he takes a few final thrusts and empties himself inside of me.

If we stayed like that forever, I could die happy.

And actually, that wouldn't be far from the truth, given that if we did stay here forever, my mom would certainly find us and kill us.

The thought makes me sigh.

"You have to leave..."

"I know..."

Spencer pulls me closer, squeezing me tight and giving me a long, bold kiss on the jaw before he rips himself away and takes my heart with him.

AUGUST 18th

Things are significantly different now.

After the morning I let slip that I love him, Spencer and I had been intimate once. We found ourselves alone while Mom was at the grocery store and instinctually came together.

It was quick, and it was fast and rough, and while it obviously felt good, something was off. But I knew it wasn't a physical problem. Like I said, it felt as good as any other time we'd been together, but it just wasn't right.

I hate it.

It hasn't even been a week since then, and I miss him. I miss our dynamic, and I miss the way I used to feel when he touched me.

So I stalk into the office and lean against the doorframe, watching Spencer as he goes through a large pile of paperwork. His hands and his eyes are moving at near light-speed, and the way he concentrates almost makes me feel bad for my intrusion—Honestly, I could have looked at him all damn day.

But there's a bigger plan in mind.

"What'cha up to?"

He looks up and greets me with a smile. "School starts in a few weeks. I'm just trying to get my coursework prepared."

"Oh... You... mind if I keep you company?"

"Not at all."

It's an innocent enough exchange, though I'm hoping I can change that. Mom doesn't get off work for another few hours, so it gives me ample time to do what I have planned.

I walk over and nudge his leg with my knee, and he lets me in. I climb on his lap, and after giving me a brief kiss on the cheek he returns to going through his paperwork.

My face turns and I nestle it into his neck. He hums softly when I kiss the skin under his jaw, once, and then twice, and then over and over in quick succession.

I can feel him smile. "What are you up to, princess?"

Hearing the nickname return in earnest makes me smile. I nip softly at his neck and run my tongue along it. "Mmm, trouble."

"Sounds like you," he mutters through a sultry sigh once I start going lower, kissing the top of his shoulder.

I slide my hands up the front of his chest and gently undo the top button, giving me access to more skin. "You love it when I make trouble..."

"Hmm, I'm not sure about that."

I slide off his lap then, crouching between his legs and looking up at him with a smile. "Really?"

All he does is look down at me, his pupils growing bigger by the second. So I continue my venture, sliding my hands up the insides of his legs until I reach the belt. "So you don't love when I do this?"

Spencer sighs, helping me by lifting his hips a little and letting me slide down layers of fabric until his dick is right in front of me.

I don't waste any time, taking him in my hand and bringing him to my mouth. He's still not entirely hard yet, but I don't mind at all. In fact, I let out a happy sigh just before I press kiss after kiss along the entire length of him. From base to tip, I take my time kissing and licking along the salty skin and giving him my full attention. I pull back and admire him, I smile, I kiss and I lick and I squeeze him with my hand... And when he's finally nice and hard, I take the head of his cock in my mouth and suck gently.

"Y/N..."

I hum around him, sinking further down until he hits the back of my throat, and then I come back up and repeat. It's slow. Maybe torturous even, but really I don't mean it to be.

Thankfully Spencer seems to be happy with my speed and technique; His eyes are on the verge of closing and his chest is heaving slowly, fingers gently caressing the sides of my face as I go down on him.

It's this same slow, steadying pace we'd taken before, and it's exactly what we needed.

I can feel his touch on my face, burning into my skin and marking me for all eternity. Likewise, the thick, throbbing weight of his cock sliding over my tongue and down my throat feels just like home— Like it's right where we're meant to be.

Once again, we fit together perfectly.

This epiphany sets a fire deep in the pits of my stomach, and just like that our spark is back again.

I look up and catch his eye, and he lets me keep it, forcing himself to keep his eyelids open to watch me. My pace remains consistent and slow, and and he brings both of his hands under my chin. The way he holds my face is so gentle, so loving and sensual that I nearly burst with tears at the sentiment alone, and it doesn't take long for him to start letting go.

He stutters my name when he comes, still using the pads of his nimble fingers to caress my throat. I take in and swallow each rope of cum until it's gone, and even then I keep him in my mouth, gently bobbing my head up and down just for the sake of feeling him inside me somehow.

But then he lifts me off of him and his dick falls limp in his lap. I sigh and lean down, kissing it a few times before just resting my head in his lap as he strokes my hair.

"You're right," Spencer says after a few moments.

"About what?"

"I do love when you make trouble."

We laugh, and I lift my head to look up at him.

"I know... It's your favorite."

"That it is, princess."

AUGUST 26th

I wish more than anything that this orientation would just end. My left foot is anxiously tapping the cool white tile of the floor as I wait to be next in line to grab my paperwork and get on my way— To home for what I'm sure will be a long weekend trying to find free minutes to steal with Spencer.

In another life it might have gotten tedious and painful sneaking around for so long, but I found it excited me. Sure, my feelings for Spencer were growing at an exponential rate, but ever since I visited him in our home office, we seemed to be getting back our groove— With an added flair I might add...

Each time we were together was more intense than the last. His hands got more possessive, his kisses got deeper and more passionate, and the way he looked at me?

I could swear I felt him falling just as deep as I was.

The smile it all brought to my face in that moment fell a little short when they called me next in line, and I fell into a joyful step forward to collect my things.

When I get home, though, things aren't as joyful.

The first thing I notice is that Spencer's car isn't in the driveway or even on the street. He's usually here on weekends, so I wonder if he's out for something, or even out with my mom on a lunch date or something.

I try not to think about that thought too much and step inside, hoping to at least enjoy the silence for a little while, lest they really are out together.

I think I'm out of the woods when I hear the television, a laugh track of some kind, but then it turns into the Friends theme blaring through the speakers, and my heart nearly falls into the pit of my stomach.

There's only one reason Mom would be watching Friends. She swears up and down that she hates it, but it always ends up on TV when there's one specific thing she's going through, because "Hearing them complain about their stupid problems make me feel better about my own!"

Her own problem being a breakup.

For a moment I wonder if maybe Spencer had told her about us. Or maybe she found something somehow that would give us away. I make my way slowly through the space until I reach the living room, my brain making up every possible horrendous outcome— Not even to prepare for the blow, because I know that absolutely nothing could prepare me for the wrath of my mother in any situation... I simply can't help myself from feeling guilty and heartbroken as my stomach churns and my heart beats so loud I can barely hear the TV anymore.

When I come into her view, Mom freezes and lets out a large breath of shaky air. The small tub of ice cream in her hands shakes just as much, and I can tell she's trying her hardest not to burst into tears.

I've never seen her this upset before. Normally it's just anger and annoyance, but this time she looks utterly broken.

"M—Mom?" I stutter, even though she probably can't even hear what I'm saying over the TV. I still don't know if she knows about my involvement with Spencer, but I feel like she'd be more angry with me than sad, so I figure it's safe to come closer.

The moment I take a step forward, she sets the ice cream on the floor and opens her arms to me, a choked sob forcing its way out. It almost makes me cry, just seeing her this heartbroken, and in an instant I'm running to her and snuggling into her side as she hugs me.

"What happened?" I will myself to ask, even though I still have no idea what it means for me. Maybe that's selfish, but if he's taking himself out of Mom's life, surely that has to mean he's removing himself from mine as well, right? And if he's just leaving without saying anything... God, that would ruin me, too.

Still, I wait to hear what Mom will say.

"He broke up with me," is all she says, through a long and tired sigh. She mutes the TV and then holds me tighter. I can feel that there's pure sadness controlling her every movement, and it crushes me.

"Why?"

"I don't know, he just... He said he didn't love me, and he wasn't feeling it anymore."

"That's all?"

"Uh huh... It was so sudden, too, like... I thought we were really getting along, and I just... I don't understand how he couldn't feel it... I felt all of it, and he just... He felt nothing. How could he feel nothing?"

I really don't know what to say anymore... It seems to me like Spencer really told her the truth and ended their relationship because he didn't feel anything for her anymore, but... I always knew he had to have felt something... I guess I just didn't realize someone could fall out of it so quickly.

The guilt overwhelms me then, when it dawns on me that I made him fall out of it so fast. I was there, taking up small moments of his time until, eventually, I'd taken up so much of it that it wasn't just his time I was stealing, but also his love. His fire, and his passion... Month by month, day by day, I was draining the love he had for my mom and distilling it to meet my own desires.

And now, here I am, in my mothers arms as she weeps over a man she truly loved, all because he and I were selfish and treasonous.

If Spencer decides he still wants to be with me after this, I really don't know if I could do it. Even after all this time... After all this trouble and guilt and glorious treason...

He could never really be mine.

———

Y/N,

I knew this day would come from the moment I met you. Of course, I didn't know how far my feelings would take me, but in the end I knew I would one day have to leave you and your mother behind.

Day by day my feelings for you grew stronger, and it wasn't until you told me you loved me that August Thirteenth that I realized I loved you, too. What we had was always dangerous, but by then my heart was focused solely on you, and I could feel your mother slipping from my grasp.

I pretended for as long as I could, but now you've taken up so much space in my brain that when Eve pulled me near, I almost sighed out your name instead. I knew then that no longer could I "keep up appearances," as I often like to tell you.

Maybe one day you and I can find our way back to each other, but for now, I think it's for the very best that we go our separate ways.

In my wildest dreams I will think of you fondly, and I can only hope that you might do the same.

Always Yours, Spencer

JUNE 19th, SEVEN YEARS LATER

There are so many things I'm thinking about when I come home tonight.

One: I'm a little tipsy and completely fucked out, which reminds me of that night I came home in the exact same state, only to find my mom's old boyfriend, Spencer, unable to sleep and to stop staring at my bare legs. The memory brings a smile to my face.

Two: My feet fucking hurt and I want to get these goddamned shoes off.

Three: The ghost of Spencer's smile when he saw me for the first time in seven years burns in the back of my mind, right next to the ghost of his hands caressing my skin like it had been the first time.

Four: How am I going to spend the rest of the summer back in town knowing what it feels like to have fucked him at all without an ounce of guilt attached to it?

Five: Am I going to tell my mom that I slept with her ex-boyfriend tonight?

Six: Fuck, I'm hungry...

My heels come off as soon as I step through the door.

The light is on, and I can hear Mom laughing in the kitchen with Adam from far away, which brings a fond smile to my face. I'm glad that she's finally happy, with someone who doesn't make me want to fall to my knees, thank you very much.

And truthfully, if I hadn't ran into Spencer at all tonight, I'm not sure I ever would have thought about that whole situation again— It was fucked up, he ended up leaving both of us, and Mom was so deeply devastated after their breakup that I didn't have the heart to tell her I missed him too. I just buried it deep down and tried to move on right alongside her, eventually erasing his memory from my mind, body, and soul.

Well, almost.

There were days, obviously, where his letter hummed inside my pillowcase where he left it, whether I brought it to college or kept it at home, or it sat soundly in my new apartment. His words were always there, spilling into my dreams and dancing with me through our memories; tangled tongues and limbs, wild nights and passionate mornings...

I'd wake up feeling hot to the touch and missing him completely.

Thankfully those days were few and far in between, and for a while I'd stopped thinking of him altogether.

But of course, it turns out that Spencer Reid is in fact, pretty damn inevitable.

That bar downtown was packed, so it was a wonder I'd even ran into him of all people in the first place. What he was doing there I didn't know. And neither do I now, because from the moment we laid eyes on each other, it was this constant state of shell-shock and fire, nothing else. He asked briefly about Mom, I told him she'd been married for four years, and then he joked about how he was surprised I hadn't tried to steal him from her.

Naturally, with that ever so playful look in his eye practically taunting me, I played to his joke and responded with a sultry smile, "The only one I ever wanted to steal was you, Doctor..."

The rest wasn't exactly a blur, but all I'm going to say is that we spent the rest of our time together at his apartment, "catching up on lost time"... And as much as I'd grown out of the submissive role sexually over the years, I found myself crawling back, submitting to him like I'd done it a million times over. And, really, I might as well have.

It's like we'd never stopped.

That being said, I declined his offer to stay the night and told him to give me a call some time before I left to go back to Seattle. Though, not without giving him a thousand goodbye kisses that were rather counterproductive.

Thinking about it makes my cheeks burn hot, though thankfully it's summer, and Mom won't have to question it. Though, if she does, I suppose I could keep it short and sweet and tell her the truth at the very least: that I met up with an old friend who showed me a good time.

"Hey'a, Sweetpea," she greets with a bright wave. She and Adam are obviously a little tipsy, more than me by the looks of it, but I pay it no mind. "How was you're night?"

"Great! Went to a few bars downtown, met up with some friends..."

"Oh, good, well we're glad you got back safe."

I snag a bottle of water and an apple from the fridge, then turn back around to see Mom and Adam snuggled in, sharing a smile that would make even the happiest person on the planet sick to their stomach.

Oddly enough, it reminds me of back then, when she was with Spencer, happier than ever and completely oblivious to what was going on in her daughter's life.

The thought makes my stomach flutter, taking me back to earlier in the night when he had his hands tangled in my hair and his mouth attached to my skin, spewing filthy words and praises that had me begging for more...

"I missed you, princess," he whispers, holding himself deep inside me. His fingers brush the matted hair from my face, revealing more of my saccharine smile and eyes that swim with mischief.

"I missed you too," I whine, reaching out and grabbing handfuls of his ass, shoving him even farther inside me and wrapping my legs around him tighter. "...Daddy..."

Spencer loses all semblance of cool, pulling back and slamming into me with full force. I—

"Y/N?"

I blink away his memory, reminding myself of where I am and what I'm doing, finding Mom looking at me with a curious gleam in her eye.

"What are you thinking about?"

With a small smile, I nod in her direction. "Oh, uh... You'll never believe who I ran into tonight."

———

PERMANENT TAGLIST (tags not working are struck out):  @elldell1204 @muffin-cup @calm-and-doctor @slutforthegubes @rainsong01 @yourmisosoup @liveloudwriteloud @reidsconverse @la-vie-en-amour1 @edgycowboy666 @averyhotchner @centiaaa @lizziechaseee @coffeeandendlesswords @usuck @spenxerslut @ssacalumsg0lden @emilyprentisslittlewhore @takeyourleap-of-faith @reidyoulikeabook @spencerreid9 @b-a-utiful @jareauswifey @flipperpenguins @pansexualthing @donald4spiderman @awesomebooklover17​ @shemarmooresfedora @izraahh1 @bakugouswh0r3 @singularityjc @xoxospencerreid @thatsonezesty13 @big-galaxy-chaos @mggskneescrews @youabitchhhh @spencersjello @moonlight-2-6 @starrylang @foreveryoungxx3 @spencerreidscoffeecup @morganwilliams @emilyprsntiss @this-is-doctor-and-its-calm @gubswh0re @mrsobrien888 @loveeee2134 @umbreonwolfy @ayla-1605

If you would like to be added to or removed from the taglist, feel free to message me or leave a comment and I’ll get on it right away!

[outercrasis]

Sessions

Pairing: College!Din Djarin x F!Reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: None (let me know if I missed something!)

Summary: Everyone is talking about the mysterious new guy on campus

A/N: I had a ton of fun writing this extremely self-indulgent AU and I have plans to keep writing more about these two. It won’t be an actual chaptered fic, but at some point I’ll throw together a masterlist with a chronological order to things.

Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Introductions

The semester had only started four weeks ago and he was already a legend around campus. Almost everywhere someone could be found whispering about him. You'd even heard faculty speculating, wondering about the rumors they overheard their students sharing.

You first heard of him in your literature seminar, some of your fellow classmates discussing a recent rumor about the now fabled man. Something about a motorcycle and a child caught your ear, prompting you to interrupt and the girls in front of you who they were talking about. 

The looks you received from the pair were incredulous at best. “You mean you haven’t heard about him?”

“Heard about who?” you asked, genuinely confused. It had only been the first week of class at the time and you were too caught up with your own busy start to check in on the rumor mill.

“Mando, obviously. He’s all anyone is talking about.” From there the girls had happily filled you in on all the latest sightings and rumors. 

Mando, as they called him, was shrouded in mystery. He'd popped up on Corellia University's campus when the semester began and no one knew a thing about him. He hadn't gone to Corellia before, internet searches turned up nothing, and even the skull-like symbol on the back of his leather jacket wasn't familiar to anyone. Any information on him was conjecture at best and there was plenty to go around. Once the rest of the class caught onto what you three were discussing, theories began to fly.

People discussed how he’d been spotted downtown, beating on some guys in a back alley. He’d also been seen uptown the same night though, strolling through Basalt Park. One girl was nearly certain that she’d gone to elementary school with Mando, but he’d mysteriously disappeared one day without explanation. Someone else was confident he was just a cop trying some weird shtick to go undercover. Then one person insisted he had a kid with him sometimes while another was trying to explain that he was actually a murderer. The rumors only became more ludicrous from there.

By the end of the discussion you only ascertained two things for certain. He went by the name Mando and he wore some kind of special helmet. Information you could have gotten by watching him pick up a drink at the Java Hut. Not nearly enough to warrant this level of fervor in your opinion.

From there, hearing about Mando was inescapable. You got home that night only to have your roommate and best friend, Layla, launch into theories about him. Within the week someone set up a social media page to try and track his location around campus via DMs fellow students sent in. That had struck you as invasive and unsettling, but the messages about him kept flooding in.

By pure chance, you had yet to actually see him for yourself. There weren't even any creep shots for you to look at. People had been trying to take photos of him, but he was like a ghost. In the time it took them to pull up their cameras he'd disappear. 

There wasn't even more concrete information about him beyond what you'd learned that first day. Just more and more speculation, a good amount of it made up purely for the shock factor. Another week slipped by, the semester picking up, and Mando news became standard in your day. There was always something new going around about him and as much as you tried to avoid it and focus on your studies, you couldn’t help but wonder about him yourself.

Who was this guy? Was this all some stunt or ‘social experiment’ that would be revealed by a sociology student at the end of the semester? Or was he a legitimate peculiarity, doomed to stick out like a sore thumb? You weren’t sure if you should hate him for making a big deal out of himself or pity him for all the unwarranted attention. Either way, you were sure that whenever you met this enigmatic Mando, you’d know.

×××××

You grumble looking at the submission form. The name and student ID information is blank again. You told Todd last week those fields needed to be made mandatory. How else were you supposed to know who to email when you end up with a no-show for the hour?

Looking further down you're pleased to note that they're at least a grad student. Despite the unfinished form, graduates almost never skip sessions like these. You're thrilled to have the opportunity to discuss something other than freshman composition for once. It's fun helping the wide-eyed freshies, but you can only go over basic comma rules so many times before you start to lose it a little.

There's a knock at the study room door and you look up only to be rendered speechless. It's him. Mando. With a kid on his hip. So Alissandra hadn’t been lying when she told you about the toddler she saw with him. Interesting. Continuing to take him in, you can’t help but focus on the obvious - the only thing you knew about him other than his supposed name, the helmet. 

It’s unlike anything you've seen before. You're fairly certain it's a motorcycle helmet, but it's been modified. Rather than the typical rounded shape, his is all sharp angles and flat at the front. It’s colored a sleek, shining chrome that gleams under the washed out fluorescent lighting. Most arresting is the way he's changed the face of the helmet. The cheeks dip inward at a sharp angle, creating deep, curved contours. His visor is a T of black glass in the center, entirely impossible to see through. It's intimidating and… kinda hot?

The little boy he's holding starts to wiggle in his grasp, physically demanding to be set down in the study room. Once his feet touch the floor, he immediately runs over and climbs into the chair next to you. He's a welcome distraction from his father’s? brother's? guardian's? commanding presence in the room.

The boy can't be older than three, smiling up at you with a wide toothy grin. His hair is covered by a green beanie with large floppy ears sewn onto it and he's wearing a little brown jacket with a sherpa collar. Maybe a bit too heavy for the early autumnal weather, but if the rumor that the kid rides on a motorcycle with Mando is true, it’s perfect. His eyes are large and brown, shining up at you with a slightly mischievous glint.

"Hello, what's your name?" you ask, smiling back at the child.

"Grogu," comes the reply, not from the kid, but from Mando.

You arch an eyebrow at him. He can't be serious with that name. "Grogu?" you ask.

He shrugs, placing his bag on the table. "I came home one day and he told his babysitter that was his name now. He won't respond to anything else. So, Grogu."

You look back to the bouncing toddler. He's still grinning, nodding along with what's been said about his name. They must not be lying then. Either that, or it was some elaborate prank between them and you would never be in on the joke. 

"Well okay, Grogu it is." 

You extend your hand out to Mando, offering your name alongside it. He offers a leather clad hand in return, giving you a firm handshake. You're pleased when he only gives your hand a gentle squeeze, not crushing it like so many other students have done. His gloves are unique as well, black with orange fingers, the leather well worn in. It's warm to the touch, his body heat radiating through the thick fabric. 

"Mando," he says, officially introducing himself as he takes the seat on your other side, across from Grogu.

"Mando," you repeat, cementing it as a truth from the rumor mill. "Got any other names?" You hope that comes across as casual and not intrusive. He hasn't even gone to remove his helmet, telling you he isn't a man who cares much for people prying into his business.

"No. Why?" Mando cocks his head slightly as he asks, the helmet adding an exaggerated look to the movement. He reaches into his bag, pulls out some crayons and a pad of paper, pushing them over to Grogu.

You shrug, trying not to think about how you heard his name might be David from someone in your composition course. "Just thought I'd ask. One hears many things around campus and it's hard to tell what's true or not."

"What do you mean?"

That question makes you pause. Surely he knows. Part of you is still convinced he’s doing this act on purpose, trying to gain notoriety for some reason. The way he asked though, something about it tells you that the poor man is clueless about the buzz he's caused.

"Mando, you're like the talk of the town right now. We only just met but I've heard plenty about you," you explain. It's hard to tell with the helmet on, but you're fairly sure he's shocked underneath. Grogu ignores you both, excitedly scribbling away on his paper.

"I'm fairly sure most of it's just rumor and speculation, but still. You're like a thing around campus," you add.

He's quiet for a moment, his laptop only half out of his bag. "Oh," he finally says. "I didn't know."

Grogu gives a happy shriek not a second later, breaking the awkward tension that had begun to creep into the room. He's beaming, holding up his crayola masterpiece. On the paper there is what appears to be a hastily drawn frog using every color in the box.

Mando returns to himself, pulling his laptop the rest of the way and continues to get set up. "Great job, kid. It looks good."

Most people would have said that dismissively, a platitude to get their child to stop bothering them. When Mando says it though, the authenticity is palpable. He said six words and you can hear the pride lacing them all together. It’s sweet, the obvious affection this clearly private man has for the toddler. 

You can’t help but wonder what his connection to Grogu actually is. The way he spoke just then, if you had to put your money on it, you’d say father. The kicker then though is if he’s biological or not. And if not, then how else does a grad student get strapped with a three year old? Thinking about all the potential scenarios is enough to make your head hurt.

You’re also left wondering where all the more violent rumors about him are coming from. His tenderness is so readily on display that it’s hard to imagine the man before you choking someone because they cut him in line at the local froyo shop. He’s mysterious and gives off a vaguely dangerous vibe, sure, but less than five minutes around him and the kid and it’s obvious he’s no threat to you. He’s just a guy trying to get his assignments done for class, same as everyone else.

Your stomach still catches in your throat as Mando starts unexpectedly tugging off his gloves. From what you’d heard, he never takes anything off: not his jacket, not his gloves, and certainly not his helmet. All anyone knows of his true appearance on campus is that he’s obviously male with rumors flying around about everything else including simple attributes, like the color of his skin. Now, here he is, casually revealing this groundbreaking information to you.

His hands move fluidly, pulling off each glove in just a few easy tugs. His skin matches the heat you felt from them just minutes ago, a warm golden tan, with a few faded lines of scars worn in. Watching him type, pulling his paper up for you to discuss, you feel a deep and sudden ache to have his hands touch you again. A simple handshake is no longer enough. Every stroke of the keys is measured, deliberate, and leaves you wondering how he would use those fingers on you.

“This is what I have so far.”

His voice snaps you back to reality, a quick wave of shame washing over you. Where did all of that come from? It was just a man’s hands for heaven’s sake, certainly not something you should be horny about at two in the afternoon. Not to mention that he came in here looking for your help, not wanting you to start fantasizing about his hands expertly working you over.

You clear your throat and tear your eyes away from the offending appendages. “Great, let me just read the introduction here so I can get an idea for what you’re writing about.”

You settle into working with him easily. His paper is already well-written, just needing tweaks here and there to bring it to the next level. It’s nice working with him. He’s attentive, clearly listening to everything you have to say and taking it into account. He doesn’t even try to challenge you as some of the more macho male students are wont to do. By the end of the session, you can’t help but wish all of your time as a tutor was that easy.

“Thank you,” he says sincerely, tucking his laptop away. “You really helped.”

You smile at him, thrilled with his genuine complement. “Of course, that’s what I’m here for.”

He finishes packing up his and Grogu’s things, with you silently lamenting as his gloves slide back on. It still feels like a ridiculous thought, but he really does have beautiful hands. There’s a small tap on your arm and you look to your left to see Grogu patiently waiting. He’s offering something to you, paper outstretched in his little hands.

“Thank you,” you say, taking the sheet from him. You look at it to see a frog carefully drawn on the page. It’s not the same as the first one he showed you and Mando, this one more deliberate and thoughtful. The colors are still just as varied, but it’s obvious he took more time to think about where he was using each one. You can’t help but smile at his small masterpiece.

“It looks great, buddy. I’ll keep it forever,” you tell him. Grogu beams at your praise, excitedly looking over to Mando. 

Mando nods at the kid. “Yeah kid, I heard her too.” He turns his head towards you. “Thank you again. I’d take good care of that drawing. He’ll never forgive you if he finds out you got rid of it.”

“Does that mean I’ll be seeing you again?” Your own boldness takes you by surprise. You have no idea where that came from, how those words spilled without a second thought. Part of you is already cringing at Mando’s potential reaction.

He surprises you once again though, holding a hand out for Grogu to take. Shouldering his backpack, you hear an amused huff of air from under the helmet. “Yeah, mesh’la, I’ll see you around.”

There isn’t a chance to reply as Mando turns, escorting his tiny charge out of the room with him. You’re a little dumbstruck, now equally surprised with him as you had been with yourself. 

And what was that name he just called you? Mesh’la? You don’t even know what language that could have been, much less the meaning. Something about his tone when he said it tells you it’s a good thing though, that he’s not secretly calling you rude names in some unknown language. You can’t help but wonder if you’ll ever get to find out.

.

.

.

taglist: @honestly-shite

[omg-im-such-a-masochist]

RESISTERE TENTATIONEM: CAPITULUM I

HELLION: A rowdy or mischievous person

Pairings: Damian Priest x Reader

Warnings: +18 explicit content

Editor: @thenightmareismyreality

Tag: @ziasaph , @theworldofotps , @alyhull , @bellalutionn , @aerynscrichton , @serpantscorpio8497 , @omegasshyghuleh6661ghosts , @squirreledelman , @lovinglerae , @sophiewolfheart-blog , @waywardwrestlewritingwaif , @sassymox

Notes: I’m so into this series that I even made moodboards 🤣 Don’t @ me 😂 I want to give a HUGE a thank you (and shout out) to @letsgivethisonemoreshot for helping me out with this entire trilogy! Thank you for your ideas and feedbacks, love ❤️ If you’d like to check out my previous works, you can find them on my Masterlist 😘

“Miss Y/L/N” He greeted me “Sit down”

Father Damian was the school’s principal, and in the three short months since I transferred to this school, let’s just say I’ve spent a lot of time in a chair in his office

“Yes?” I faked a smile as I stared at him from the chair I was sitting on

“Can you explain to me what this is?” He showed me a piece of paper written ‘Satan rules! And fuck you, Principal Damian’ “And why was this taped to my car window?”

“I have no idea where that came from” I shrugged

“Miss Y/L/N, are we really gonna go down that path?” He pinched the bridge of his nose

“Why do you think that was me?” I pretended to be offended

“Because you’re the only student who has pulled stunts like this before”

“Maybe it was one of your perfect little students” I stood up and made my way towards his wooden desk and sat on top of it “You know, the ones who wear the pearl necklaces to show their purity” I laughed

“Miss Y/L/N, please refrain yourself from talking ill of the other students and return to your seat”

“Why? Because they’re pure, perfect and collected?” I slid across the desk and placed myself in front of him “Because they’re God’s children and I’m Satan’s spawn?”

“Miss Y/L/N” He warned

“Yes, Father?” I batted my lashes at him

“Ever since you stepped foot inside this school, you have done nothing but speak profanities, break the school’s dress code and make the lives of everyone in here a living Hell!”

“When have I spoken profanities?” I gasped, acting as if I was shocked

“You asked your classmate if you could caress her…. pussy!” He said through gritted teeth and I held back a chuckle

“And what’s wrong with that? She got a cat and I wanted to know if I could pet her”

“You asked another colleague if you could taste her melons!”

“She brought some with her for a snack and I love melons! Don’t you love them too, father?” I smirked

“What about the ‘BJ practice at 4pm behind the bleachers in gym’ sign you were caught hanging on the wall?” He crossed his arms in front of his chest

“What? BJ: Bible Jam, where we go over some hymns and try to set up a choir, since you don’t have one here”

“Is the choir for you ‘demonic pagan chants’ you love to recite in Latin to the other students?”

I just shrugged in response

He sighed “You’re turning nineteen years old next month, Miss Y/L/N! You’re an adult, so behave as such! The entire reason you were transferred here in the first place was because of your horrid habit of skipping classes, which caused you to repeat last year! How long do you plan on continuing that behaviour? Until you turn twenty years old, perhaps? My point is, how difficult is it to follow the rules? You can’t even follow a simple dress code, Miss Y/L/N!”

“That’s absurd!” I said with a huff “I follow the dress code impeccably!”

“By wearing revealing undergarments?”

“How do you know they're revealing if you're not looking, Father?” I smiled

“It’s a bit difficult to not see a red bra underneath a white shirt, Miss Y/L/N”

“So you do like melons then?” I laughed “Oh Father, is the Devil tempting you with the pleasures of the flesh?” I grinned evilly as I leaned towards him, revealing some of my cleavage

“You know perfectly well to not joke with unholy names, Miss Y/L/N” He gulped

“I love to swirl my tongue around the D word, Father” I whispered “Would you like me to show you how well it fits my mouth?”

“Miss Y/L/N, you have no idea what you’re getting yourself into”

“I’m talking about the Devil, Father Damian” I cackled “But I see you have another D on your mind”

“You shouldn’t mock the Devil, Miss Y/L/N. It’s not wise” He whispered, placing both of his hands on my sides and trapping me on the desk

“I’m not mocking, Father. I think he’s quite fun actually...don’t you?” I tilted my head to the side

“All that is forbidden is fun, Miss Y/L/N” His fingers brushed against my exposed thighs “It’s delightful to commit sinful actions”

I was caught off guard by his behavior, I never expected him to actually respond to my flirting

“What’s the matter, Y/N?” He chuckled “Devil got your tongue?”

“Maybe” He placed one hand underneath the hem of my skirt and stroked my inner thigh “He told you that I saw your red lace thong when you bent down to tie your shoes in the hallway this morning”

I gasped in shock and he continued

“The Devil knows our weaknesses so well, doesn’t he, Y/N? He knows that my weakness is a devilish little slut like you, and he knows that your weakness is a holy cock” He laughed

“Father Damian” I gasped

“What’s wrong, Y/N? Wouldn’t you like to commit a sin with me? A delicious, rough, sweaty and lustful sin?” He leaned forward until he was uncomfortably close to me

“Maybe I can turn you into a good little lamb once my cock is buried deep inside your pussy” He nibbled my bottom lip “Would you like me to fuck the filthy whore out of you?”

“Father...I-“

“What is it, Y/N? Not so brave anymore, are we?” He chuckled “I thought you liked teasing, isn’t that what you’ve been doing with me for the past three months? Teasing me non stop with your bratty attitude and smart mouth? Do you think I’m dumb? That I don’t see your true intentions?”

“I-“

“No no no” He placed two fingers on my lips and whispered “Don’t speak” Father Damian turned around and grabbed a Bible from his bookshelf

“Do you know what the punishment is for the lustful people in Hell, Y/N?” He turned around and looked at me in the eyes while placing the Bible on top of his table

I nodded in response

“Enlighten me, then” He grinned

“Those who commit the sin of lust will be punished in Hell by being smothered in fire and brimstone, Father”

“Good girl” He smiled “I see you paid attention to your biblical studies class” He said in a mocking tone

“Don’t you think that sounds so appealing?” He asked, tilting his head to the side and reaching for the Bible

“No, I don’t” I whispered

“Yes, it is. Want me to show you how appealing it can be?” He smirked, opening the Bible

To my surprise it was a hollowed out Bible, inside of it there was a slim vibrator and a bottle of lube

“Why do you have-“

“Yes or no, Y/N?”

“Yes” It slipped out of my mouth so easily

He smirked and reached his hands underneath my skirt, soon after the sound of cloth being torn apart filled up the room. Father Damian kept his gaze locked with mine as he brought my ripped thong to his lips, his tongue darting out and licking the piece of fabric

“Sinners always taste so sweet, don’t they?” He chuckled

Grabbing the lube, he squirted some on his fingers and spread it through my folds, the cold feeling was soon replaced by a warm feeling I never felt before. He added some more lube to his digit and slid his finger in me

“Oh my God” I moaned at the warmth that filled me

He reached for the vibrator and turned it on, sliding the cold toy against my warm bundle of nerves

“Fuck” I shuddered at the pleasurable feeling

“Repeat the punishment for me, Y/N” He smirked

“Being smothered” I started and his free hand wrapped around my throat

“And?” He grinned evilly

“Fire” I whispered, as he squirted more lube directly onto my folds this time

“So much fire” He smirked, replacing his finger with the toy at the same time his grip around my neck closed

I moaned softly as all of the different sensations hit me

“Oh there she is!” He laughed “The sinful little whore” And sucked on my bottom lip “You love to come out and play, don’t you my sweet harlot?”

I just nodded softly

“I’ll give you something even nicer for you to play with, how does that sound to you?”

“Anything, just please” I pleaded

He smiled widely, like a predator. In my foggy haze of pleasure I hadn’t even realized what he meant by that

“Father, please” I moaned

He smiled at my pleading “Oh my dear Y/N, isn't it a real joy to be a sinner?”

[etherealdizzle]

DBD Danny x Frank x Male Reader

I have a request, Frank and Danny(Ghostface) are soulmates, but they recently found out that a male survivor reader(that is new to the entity’s realm) is also their soulmate.

Trigger Warnings: Violence

When you’re born, the mark on your wrist appears. It slowly fades into existence. Once you’re ten, the mark is clear. It’s a pair of initials. Different for everyone. Some people have one, some get two, and very few get nothing. What are the initials for, exactly? Simple.

Your soulmate.

Those who are born with a mark search their whole lives for the person they are meant to be with. Often, they travel all across the world, searching. Some get to meet them. They get to love and to be loved with the other half of their soul. Nearly everyone gets initials. But not everyone gets to meet their soulmate.

Frank Morrison figured that would be his fate. He was stuck in a shitty town with the same group of people. He’d been moved from adoption home to adoption home, never staying in a new place for long. He hadn’t met his soulmate. So, he figured it was time to move. That was until he met a girl named Julie.

Their friendship bloomed into a series of theft, violence, and eventually murder. The group now found themselves in the Fog, a new realm away from the real world. While some accepted their new fates, others were dissatisfied. The marks on their wrists stayed, reminding them of a lost love they would never find.

Frank had two marks. Two initials. Two people he would never get to see. Two people who he would never get the chance to love. He was angry. He kept his marks covered, hoping to forget about them and begin his new life. The life that took his soulmates away from him.

But others didn’t stop searching. Danny Johnson believed the Entity was on his head. He knew it would bring his soulmates to him. He was right. For one of them, at least.

“Danny Johnson,” He introduced himself to the man standing before him. The man’s eyes widened, jaw opening slightly in shock. “...What?”

Frank scrambled, nearly tearing the fabric as he tried to take a look at his wrist. D.J. But maybe it was a fluke, like so many times before. Initials were unique, of course. Frank reached forward and grabbed Danny’s hands. Danny pulled back, but stopped his effort once he saw what the man was trying to do. And Frank saw it. In black text read ‘F.M.’

Frank slowly looked up, eyes still wide, and let out a shaky breath. “It’s you…”

✯ ✯ ✯

It was hard at first. Danny was clingy, and Frank was still processing. But now, they two were in love and they couldn’t be happier. Danny was definitely the more affectionate of the two, but that didn’t mean Frank didn’t care for him. He just showed it in a different way. Less touchy and more words. Danny didn’t mind. As long as Frank was happy, he was happy.

But both of them felt like something was off. Sometimes, the initials burned. Danny didn’t mind as much, just pulled his costume over his wrist and pretended it wasn’t there. But Frank would sit and stare at it. Two letters. An initial. A person. Someone was out there, alone. Were they searching, too? Danny trusted in the Entity to bring the missing link to them. Frank wanted to believe. All he could do was ask.

He asked, and the Entity listened.

✯ ✯ ✯

“Please?”

“No.”

“Pretty pleaseeee?”

“No.”

Danny rolled his eyes. “Why not!?”

Frank crossed his arms and looked to his lover. “Because I don’t even think they exist here!”

Danny huffed, upset. “Maybe we could ask the Entity…?”

“I doubt the Entity would give you a cat.”

“If I asked nicely!”

“No.”

Danny heard the ringing bells in his ears. He sighed, deciding to move the conversation to another time. If Frank had anything to do with it, the conversation would never come up again. The ringing came again and Danny winced, the loudness of the bell something he would never get used to.

“You gotta go?” Frank asked, uncrossing his arms. Danny nodded, and Frank stepped closer to his partner. “Have fun,” He grinned, kissing Danny gently.

“Always do, boss,” Danny winked, waving goodbye as the Entity took him into a trial.

It was Autohaven Wreckers. Ghostface liked it, it had lots of cover for him to hide with. But he also hated it because it was open as well. He just had to figure out where to go. He crouched, moving and making his way until he heard a noise. A voice. He didn’t recognize it. Using the tires as cover, he leaned to see who it was.

“I don’t even know how to repair this,” It was a man. He talked to himself, standing over a generator. He began to connect wires, but the generator exploded. He sighed, trying again. He wasn’t someone Danny knew. He was new! Ghostface had a different way of greeting new survivors to this world.

Danny ran at him, jumping on him. The man landed on his back with a thud, grunting as the air escaped his lungs. “What the fuck!?” The man yelped, trying to push Ghostface off. But it was no use. Ghostface had his legs on either side of the men and pinned his arms down, holding them above his head. He was stuck. The man struggled for a moment, but realized there was no use. He gave up, looking angrily at the killer above him.

Ghostface chuckled. He liked seeing their reactions to his unusual greeting. Danny studied the man. He was well-built, with a face Danny could only describe as handsome. And attractive. And beautiful. Okay, he had a few ways to describe him. Danny flipped his arms so he could see the initials. Actually, it was a pair of them. The first read, ‘F.M.’ … Wait. What? Danny shook his head, thinking of it merely as a coincidence. He read the other one. ‘D.J.’ …

Yes!

The Entity had listened! It brought him the last piece of his soul! And what a beautiful piece he was. Ghostface released his tight grip of the man’s arms, and the man began to rub the sore spots. Danny grabbed his own mask and pushed it off his head, smiling at the man before him. “Tell me - Am I better or worse than you were expecting?”

The man looked to him with confusion. “What are you talking about…?” And once Danny revealed his markings to the man, he understood. “O-oh… well… fuck…” The man said, unsure what to say.

Danny grinned. “I’m your soulmate! Oh! We can go on dates together! Go on strolls, you can watch me kill your friends! It’ll be great!”

The man was still processing. “You’re… my soulmate?”

Danny simply nodded.

“And what about-”

“Frank Morrison! You’ll love him, he’s great!” Danny got off of the man, putting his hand out. He grabbed it, and Danny helped pull him up. The man was shaking, and Danny felt responsible for helping him out. He slung an arm over the man’s shoulder and winked. “Don’t worry, now that you’re my soulmate, I won’t hurt you.”

“And the others?”

“I can’t promise anything.”

✯ ✯ ✯

There was no way for Ghostface to show Frank to the man. All he could do was give him a description of Frank and hoped he could figure it out. Danny kissed him on the cheek, perhaps a little too eager, and pushed him down the hatch. And thus began the search.

He hadn’t found him yet. He saw a pig, a cannibal, twins, a plague… He was starting to give up hope. But then, he found him. At least, he thought it was him. Matched what Danny had told him.

Frank spotted him. The man was hesitant to walk towards him, scared it wasn’t him. But Frank broke the distance between them. He pulled his mask off, smiling gently at the man before him. “Danny told me. I can’t…”

“Can’t believe it either, huh?” The man laughed. “Never thought I’d find my soulmates here, of all places. Was hoping for a little more romantic qualities.”

“It’s as romantic as we make it,” Frank flirted. “Speaking of, wouldn’t it be better with just us two?” Frank slipped his mask on. “Wait here.”

The man waited, slipping into cover every once in a while when he saw his teammates. They’d probably figured he’d died already. To be quite frank, he sucked at looping. Wasn’t good at it yet. Perhaps Danny and Frank could help him.

“There,” Frank tossed his mask off, grinning at the man. “Isn’t that better?”

The man nodded, unsure what to say. “So… we’re soulmates, right?”

“With Danny,” Frank agreed, stepping closer to the man.

He hesitated, freezing up. His heart was pounding. “S-Sorry… just…”

“I get it,” Frank reassured. He placed a hand on the man’s shoulder. Testing. Once he saw he was allowed, he moved it down, gripping his waist. “It’s not like how you imagined it. Me neither. But you know what?” His other hand found the man’s waist. The man felt his heart slow. “At least we found each other. Some don’t get that much.”

The man nodded, putting his hands on either side of Frank’s upper arms. “I’m happy to have found you, Frank.”

“I’m the lucky one.” Frank leaned forward, closing the distance. He pressed their lips together and was happy once the man kissed him back. He meant it, too. He was lucky. Hell, he didn’t deserve this. He would never take it for granted.

✯ ✯ ✯

Danny met him with enthusiasm. “Frank told me you kissed him!” Danny practically tore his mask off. He pulled off the best puppy dog look he could.

The man chuckled. “It’s your turn, then, right?”

Danny agreed, practically jumping on the man as he smashed their lips together. It was sweet and rough at the same time, but it felt so good.

The man knew he had his hands full with these two.

[hallowxiu]

Mammon’s Valentine

pairing: mammon x gn!mc

word count: 2.4k

summary: You decide to get a Valentine's gift for each of the brothers, starting with Mammon. 

a/n: i know this is late but i wanted to do it anyway lol also, let me know if you want any for the undateables. i’m going to write one for each brother, but was unsure for the side characters. 

part one of the valentine’s day series

“Have you ever heard of Valentine’s Day?” It was an innocent question, one that had been lingering on your mind for a while. As you slowly spin around in circles on your desk chair, you wait for Mammon’s answer. The holiday was just around the corner, and you were hoping you could do something special for the boys, something to show them how much they meant to you. Of course, you wouldn’t be surprised if at least some of them knew about the holiday, but you’d like it to be a surprise. You wanted to give all of them something unique, something that you thought would fit each of their personalities. While you had plenty of ideas for some of the brothers, others, well… 

“Never heard of it.” 

A smile formed on your lips from the demon’s response. That’s what you were ideally hoping for; you thought he’d have the cutest reaction to being surprised. Plus, if he was unaware of the holiday, he wouldn’t be suspicious or expecting anything from you. It was perfect for the most part. However… Mammon was one of the brothers you struggled with when thinking up ideas. Not only did Mammon own just about anything he’d ever want, but he also had the money to buy whatever he wanted. 

You could work with this, at least. “Say, Mammon, are you prepared for the exam tomorrow?” You decided to change the topic before he had the chance to ask you about it. “I can help you study if you want. Since it’s all about human history, I’m pretty much considered an expert at this.” You send him a cheeky wink, to which the white-haired demon finds himself blushing over. 

“I’ll have ya know that I’m plenty prepared!” His cheeks puff out as his eyebrows furrowed together. “But if you’re that desperate to spend time with me, then I won’t tell ya no…” 

It’s been nearly a full day since you last spent time with Mammon. The two of you have already taken your exams, and now you were left to focus on a gift you could give the demon. A few ideas have popped into your head since then, but none of them seemed good enough in your opinion. Buying him something was out of the question; anything nice that he would like you could hardly afford. And while you did want to spoil him, you just didn’t have the means to do so. 

It was when you were lounging across Asmodeus’ bed, the two of you having your usual gossip session that you came up with an idea. You were scrolling through your D.D.D and landed on an ad for stuffed animals. They were cute and small, and something Mammon would probably enjoy. However, you could do one better. Why not try to make it yourself? “Hey, Asmodeus,” you glance over at the demon who’s applying makeup in front of his mirror, “do you have any thread or fabric I could use? I want to try making a stuffed animal.” 

Asmodeus glances back at you, a thoughtful expression on his face. “A stuffed animal? That’s cute! However, I don’t think I have any fabric that would be good for something like that.” You frown at his words, though nod your head. You supposed you could always just go out and buy some yourself. “Oh!” Asmodeus snaps his fingers as a sudden thought comes to him. “Why don’t you ask Leviathan? He’s always making clothes for cosplay, and I know he can make plushies. I’ve even seen him make a pillow for Belphie once.” 

“That’s a great idea!” You beam at the thought and hop off his bed. “Thanks, Asmo!” You place a quick kiss on his cheek before darting out of his room. 

You weren’t completely hopeless when it came to the art of making plushies. You had made a panda once, and you even gave it to Mammon afterward when he seemed to like it. That being said, you were hoping that Leviathan would lend you the items you needed. However, it was always hard to tell with Leviathan depending on his mood. You’re sitting on one of his bean bags as you watch the blue-haired demon play one of his games. He had invited you in some time ago, though he told you to keep your business to yourself until he finished the current level he was on. That was… five levels ago. 

“Levi?” You fiddle with your fingers as you watch the character on the screen fight a dragon. You weren’t sure if he was winning or not. “I actually dropped by to ask you a question.” 

“Can it wait?” The demon asks between the sounds of buttons being smashed. “I’m trying to beat this level and talking to you distracts me. I need the utmost amount of focus to get past this level. I want to be the first one to clear this level,” he glances over at you briefly before bringing his attention back to the screen, “it shouldn’t be too much longer.” It had already been thirty minutes. 

A sigh leaves you as you settle into the bag. “I just wanted to borrow some items from you so I could make you and Mammon a Valentine’s gift.” You watch with a concealed smile as Leviathan immediately freezes. While this was supposed to be a gift for Mammon, you did need ideas for Leviathan as well, and you figured that plushies would also be in the realm of things he liked. Plus, you knew this would speed things up for you. After all, you only had a few days before Valentine’s Day and you needed gifts for all the brothers. That would be no small feat. 

“Y-You…” He’s looking at you with wide eyes, the controller now on the floor. You watch as the screen flashes a “GAME OVER” message. “You wanted to make me a Valentine’s gift? Someone as socially awkward as me? Me and Mammon? Sure, I understand the appeal of making a gift for someone as cool as Mammon, but me? A yucky otaku?” You stifle a laugh behind your hand. 

“Yes, Leviathan. I wanted to make you a Valentine’s Day gift.” You left out the part where you’d be making everyone a Valentine’s gift; you figured he didn’t need to know that. 

With a bright red face, he gets up from where he was sitting and brings you over to one of his drawers. “Everything I have to make crafts with is in here. Take whatever you want.” He has an arm covering his face before hurrying out of the room. You watch with a smile before returning to the task at hand. 

“Wow,” you look up from where you’re sitting on your bedroom floor to see Asmodeus leaning on your doorframe. You were in the middle of putting together the first plush for Mammon. You were surrounded by pieces of fabric and sewing string, and you may or may not have pricked yourself a couple of times in the process. Bandaids littered your fingers and Asmodeus found himself chuckling. “You are a disaster with a needle, my love.” 

“So I’m finding out.” You respond, your attention still on the plush in your hands. “But it’s coming together nicely, don’t you think? It’s definitely better than the panda I made.” 

“It was very homemade.” Asmodeus agrees. “But that was the charm.” 

“So I’ve heard.” You hum while working on the plush. “I figured a golden-colored cat would be good for Mammon. I know he isn’t Satan, but he also has a soft spot for cats.” You can hear Asmodeus hum in approval while he sits across from you. “This is leagues above the panda plush.” You’re looking down at the cat in approval, holding it up so you can check it out from every angle. “Do you think he’ll like it?” 

Asmodeus stares at you with a quirked brow. “Darling, he’ll like anything you give him. You could gift him a rock with a bow tied around it and he’d get all red in the face while swearing up and down that it’s the nicest gift anyone’s given him.” You laugh at Asmodeus’ honesty. You weren’t sure that was quite true, but you were happy to hear it nonetheless. “I’m assuming this is for Valentine’s Day?”

“I figured you’d know about the holiday.” It didn’t come as a surprise that the Avatar of Lust knew about a human holiday centered around love. “Yes, I plan on giving a gift to each of you.” Secrets were always out the window when Asmodeus was involved. “I figured I’d get a head start with Mammon’s.”

“Smart. He’d become the next Avatar of Envy if he saw you giving a gift to anyone else before him.” Asmodeus chuckles as he gets back up. “I’ll leave you to it then. Can’t wait to see what you have in store for me.” There’s a cheeky smile on his lips and you can’t help but roll your eyes. 

“Easy tiger.” 

You nervously linger by Mammon’s bedroom door. You’d been standing outside his room for the last five minutes, unsure if you should make yourself known or not. You didn’t know why you were suddenly nervous to give him his gift; maybe he wouldn’t like it? Then again, Asmodeus was confident that Mammon would like anything you gave him. Clearing your throat, you bring up your hand to knock on his door. 

Within seconds it swings open, revealing a red-faced Mammon. You tilt your head to the side, confused as to why he’s so red. “What’s up?” You asked with a small smile.

“You’re askin’ me what’s up? Shouldn’t I be askin’ you that?” Fair point. With that, you find yourself stepping around the other and walking into his room. 

“I brought you something.” 

“I brought ya somethin’.” 

The two of you stare at each other in silence before Mammon awkwardly clears his throat. “Uh, y-you go first.” His face has become redder since you first walked in. 

“Okay,” You eye him cautiously before holding out the bag in front of you. “I brought you something for Valentine’s Day. I know you don’t know much about it, but in the human realm, it’s a day where you show the people you love how much you care about them. It can be for family, friends, or partners.” There's a smile on your lips as you explain the holiday to Mammon. “I thought it would be fun, so I made you a gift!” Shyly, you hold the bag out for Mammon to take. The demon, who looks as if he might faint from the slightest bit of movement, takes the bag from you. He carefully opens it, a dopey smile blooming across his lips as he pulls out the stuffed cat. “What… what do you think?” This time it’s you who’s feeling shy. 

“I love it.” He responds in a dreamy voice. “It’s goin’ right with the panda. They’ll be best friends.” A relieved laugh leaves you, and you feel as if a weight has been lifted from your shoulders. 

“That makes me happy to hear, Mammon!” You pause when remembering that the other also had something to say when you came in. “But what was it you were saying earlier?” 

“O-Oh, right.” And just like that, the second eldest is fumbling with his words again, nearly dropping the bag and the plush in the process. Quickly, he puts the gift down on his shelf and dashes toward his bed. “I, uh, well-- when ya asked me about Valentine’s Day the other day, I ended up doin’ some research. I wanted to know what you were talkin’ about, and then I saw it was a holiday that ya celebrated with those closest to ya.” He’s finding it hard to speak as he grabs something, hiding it behind his back before you could see it. “And, and so I decided I should get ya somethin’ since we’re close and all.” You think he might pass out if he keeps going. “But don’t get the wrong idea! I’m only doin’ this so ya don’t feel left out and all. Ya should feel honored that The Great Mammon would even spend time on ya.” 

You laugh quietly as you watch Mammon fumble around with whatever he’s holding. There’s a lightness in your chest, and you can’t help but feel happy. “You’re saying that you got me something for Valentine’s Day?” 

“Yes!” Before you can process what’s happening, Mammon’s shoving something into your arms. You look down to see a box of chocolates and a small white card. “Just-- just don’t let Beel around the chocolates. The second he catches wind about it they’ll be devoured.” He’s looking at his door as he talks to you, trying to find anything else to keep his eyes on. “So… I just hope ya like it. I know it’s not much but…” 

“I love it.” There’s a bright smile on your lips as you stare down at the chocolate. “And the card, did you make that yourself? It’s beautiful.” His cheeks are redder now. 

“Yeah, I had some time to myself and when I researched it, I was told that Valentine’s Day gifts are better homemade. It uh, the card,” he takes a deep breath, “it says how much I cherish our friendship.” He blows air into his cheeks, his eyebrows furrowing in embarrassment. 

“It’s perfect.” With this, he finally looks at you. “I really do love it. It’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me.” Your cheeks are becoming warm and you’re sure you’re sporting a similar look to Mammon now. “If you want, do you maybe want to share the chocolates with me? And we can spend the rest of the day watching movies.” 

“Just the two of us?” He’s trying not to sound too hopeful, though the look on his face is hard to miss. 

“Just the two of us.” 

A wide smile forms on his lips and he tugs at his jacket. “Well, I suppose if the human wants to spend their day with The Great Mammon, who am I to tell them no?”

[slutdery]

Swimming in the money like royalty.

make a wish series.

A series (for each member of the unit) about their lines in make a wish (english version).

pairing | jaehyun x fem!reader

genre | smut, fluff (ig)

words | 2.2k

warning | exhibitionism, fingering, mature content, sex without protection (use condom pls!), degradation (just a little bit), dom!jaehyun.

author’s not | my native language isn’t english, so if there’s something wrong with anything i wrote tell me and i’ll edit it...

You had a pretty busy life, running all over campus everyday. It was actually really boring until the weekend arrived. Every weekend you traveled to Itaewon with your best friend, after all you needed to escape from your reality sometimes. Always the same routine: You get in Itaewon, meet a new girl/boy and tell them lies about yourself. You know it wasn't something nice to do but you couldn't stop doing it, after all it was pretty fun being someone you weren't.

Walking through the streets of the 'City that never dies.' trying to find a good club to go with your friend. After finding one you got on the line waiting for your time to enter. It was several minutes waiting with lots people behind and in front of  you, but finally it was your turn.

🌟

It was so crowded and the music was so loud that you could feel in your heartbeat, making you wanna just get out of there, but you didn't. You wanted to at least try to enjoy the night, but god there was so much people bumping into you.

"Drink. It'll make you feel better."

Your friend told you while giving you a cocktail, you took it from her hand and drank all of it in seconds.

"Like hell it would."

A song that you really liked started playing 'Finally something to enjoy.'. You walked through the club stopping next to the bar so you wouldn't have to walk to get the drinks, and it was a lot easier to dance since there weren't many people around. Dancing to your favorite song with your friend, your hips moving to the sides while passing your hands through your waist 'Tonight i'm a bitch.' you thought and made your moves even sexier. Maybe it was the drink going to your brain already or just you wanting to escape your 'Good girl' life. Your eyes met a interesting guy propped against the wall. He had a sharp face and thick cheekbones, his cupid bow's were the definition of perfection. He was looking at you as you moved, all of his attention on your body motions. Your moves stopped as the music changed, it was a really bad one that you didn't even wanted to hear it. You ordered a drink on the bar and drank a little bit as soon as the bartender gave the order to you. You didn't find the pretty guy when you looked at the place he was, he simply disappeared in the middle of the club. 'He was cute.' you thought and kept drinking the cocktail.

🌟

It got way more crowded than before and people started bumping into you again, it was so uncomfortable to the point that made you just leave the place. Your friend was still inside enjoying with some girl she met, of course you didn't wanted to disturb her so you just left. You stayed in the front of the club and closed your eyes as you felt the cold wind kiss your supple skin, it was so good the way that you felt free. You heard someone cleaning their throat and opened your eyes to look at the person, for your surprise it was the good looking guy from before. His face lighten by the streetlights made him even prettier than inside of the club. His face proportions was amazing, you were speechless. "Godlike" was the only thing that left your mouth while your eyes studied all of his face.

"Sorry, what?"

You got your hands to your mouth as soon as you realized that you said it out loud, but he just giggled making you feel comfortable with the situation. He had a cigarette on his nice lips. The smoke reached your face when he let it out, making you cough a little.

"You think i'm Godlike?"

"I wanna kiss you."

His eyes widened when he heard what you said. He wasn't expecting hearing such a thing from you, cause you didn't seem like a shameless girl. You didn't know if he was thinking about what you said or not, cause his face carried no emotions at all.

"Then be about it if you gonna say that shit."

"I mean it."

You took a step ahead and held his wrist bringing him closer to you. Your face was close to his that you could smell the mint of his menthol cigarette, it was such a nice scent.

"Oh, slow down there. I don't think this is the perfect place for this."

"Yeah?"

You smirked at him making his ears turn red by the sexy action. You placed a kiss in the tip of his pretty nose and stepped back to the place you were before.

"There's a park next to where we're, we could talk more comfortable there, if you want. Of course. My name is Y/N."

"Oh, i didn't know there was a park near. Yes, we can go there. My name is Jaehyun."

🌟

You were sitting on a bench with a awkward silence that made you feel like he didn't wanted to be there, but he surprised you getting closer to the spot you were sitting, suddenly putting his hand on your thigh. You gasped from the sudden touch, making him regret what he just did. But he didn't moved his hands, cause he was too afraid it would make the whole situation even more awkward than already was.

"I don't think this is something i need to tell you, cause i don't like bragging about myself. But i need to break the silence in some way. I'm a prince."

"Oh, seriously? How didn't i recognized you? I'm so dumb, oh my God."

He caressed your thigh, passing his thumbs slowly in the skin. He had soft hands and a lovely touch, besides his hands were pretty too. Veins jumping through his skin, making you think of what would it feels like having his fingers inside. 'No! You just met him, come on.' you washed your thoughts away and got back to paying attention to what the prince was saying.

"So every weekend i run away from the big house and come to Itaewon."

"Oh, i do almost the same, but without the 'Run away' part. I live alone actually so i don't have to ask for anyone's permission."

"I wish i had your life."

"And i wish i had yours."

His fingers moved for the first time, getting slowly closer to your groin, his hand spread your legs a bit, making you feel the cold wind in your clothed pussy. That sent shivers down your spine, his soft touch made you realize how wet you already were. His hands tracing your inner thigh, until he stopped next to your panty. His fingers palmed your clit at a slow pace through the fabric, as you felt the sensation of the touch you let out a moan in protest. He wasn't rushing to do anything, calmly stopping his motions and pulling your lingerie to the side. Now, the chilly breeze directly into your cunt, making you close your eyes and sight. Back again with his thumbs caressing your sensitive skin, but now without anything on the way, you felt a moan leaving your mouth as he started moving faster. His fingers sometimes teasing your entrance, until he finally entered his middle finger inside. He made it harder for you to hold back the moans when he pulled another finger, curling the two of them into you, touching the tip of it on your spot. One moment the two of you were making eye contact and the another one you were kissing. The kiss wasn't awkward at all like all the first ones should be. His perfect lips against yours while his fingers were inside of you, you let out heavy breaths into the kiss. Your hands moving until it reached his face, pulling him closer, holding each sides of his chubby cheeks. It was warm and perfectly matched, like his lips were meant to kiss yours. He pulled away after minutes kissing, chasing for air. But his hands didn't stopped moving down there, still making you groan every time he curled his fingers more.

"You look so good with my fingers inside you, princess."

His fastened his moved inside, hitting your G-spot so well. Your moans were so loud that he put his other hand on your mouth, making you just shut up. You felt a knot being made on your stomach, you were so close to get what you wanted but he stopped. Leaving you there without your orgasm, you sighed as you felt the feeling disappear.

"If you want to cum you better beg."

"Can you please just fuck me?"

"Here?" He widened his eyes thinking about the offer in such a place. The place you choose hadn't many people around, making just the two of you on that side of the park. But still it was something to be afraid of, but that aroused you even more.

"Yes, here."

"So needy, angel."

He got his fingers out of your hole, making you gasp from the sudden move, cause all of his motions were slow and calm. He unbuttoned his pants, pulling it just a bit down, he did the same with his underwear, revealing his hardened cock. His dick wasn't big, nor small. He had a pretty pink tip and lots of veins jumping through the skin, just like his hands. You got up from where you were sitting and stood in front of him, waiting for courage to do this on a public place. You quickly knelt on the bench, putting your legs on each sides of his body. After finding an comfortable position, you grabbed the basis of his dick and slowly sat on it, finally feeling the head of his cock entering you. His length invading your hole, making you form moans every time his dick entered more, finally all of it was inside.

"Move your hips like you did when you were dancing, baby."

You waited until if felt comfortable enough to move, resting your arms on his shoulders. You started wiggling on his lap, his dick was so deep inside of you that lots of moans left your mouth, it was so hot doing it on a public place. Your moves were calm, feeling all of his length on you, making you so vocal.

"You'd better be quiet or everyone's going to know what a naughty little slut you are."

His hands reached your waist helping you move better. Yours otherwise traveled from his shoulders to his hair, forming a little ponytail with his medium hair, then pulling his head closer. Face so close that you could smell the scent of his perfume, a sweet fragrance. In response of his piercing gaze on your lips you bit it in a teasingly way, making him eagerly put his lips together with yours. Groans from each side into the sloppy kiss. Your heart was beating so fast, the fear of being caught made you more wet. Always you heard an noise in the middle of the trees you moved faster, thinking of the sensation of someone looking you like this. He pulled his mouth away from yours, getting closer to your neck, with one of his hands he brushed your hair out of your neck and tilted it. His breath against your skin made your whole body shivers. He wet kissed all over it, leaving hickeys too.

"Cum for me, angel" He whispered in your ear biting your lobe and letting out a low moan.

"Can i?" You asked and got your moves faster as you saw that he nodded at you. His lips back to your neck sending you more pleasure. You found a move that the head of his dick started hitting your g-spot, you couldn't hold back anymore, feeling the knot being built again, but now you could let it out. You closed your eyes as you felt the orgasm finally arriving, your walls clenched around his dick, making both let out loud moans. His dick twisted inside of you, seconds later feeling his load fill you, it was so hot being like this. You rested your head on his and left a peck on his lips.

"You look so pretty like this." He told you while caressing your hair.

After some minutes like this you finally recomposed yourself and got out of his lap, letting a groan leave your throat as his length left you. He buttoned his pants and sat beside you again, resting his head on your shoulder and rubbing it like a little kitten.

"Can i get your number? Or princes shouldn't gave this to commoners?" You joked, making him chuckle and shake his head to the sides.

"No, but you're special." He picked his phone from his pocket and gave it to you after unlocking it, you wrote your number and saved as "Princess" giggling at your stupidity.

"I have to go, but my wish is to see you again. Can you fulfill it, prince?"

"Of course, my princess." Both of you laughed and got up from the bench. Leaving one last peck on his lips and walking back to the club to find your friend.

Maybe he was really different, since he were the only one you didn’t lied about yourself.

[lifewithdavefarts]

DaveFarts - Episode 1 “FartsApp” [Episode List] Since he’s a gassy nerd, Dave teases his friend Tim via WhatsApp by sending him a series of short videos of him farting.

FartsApp

Being gay with a fart fetish is really hard sometimes.

For me at least.

While the world is definitely getting more open-minded about homosexuality, I can’t really force it to accept this weird fetish (to be honest, all fetishes are kinda treated like taboos, regardless of the sexuality involved). I had to settle for YouTube videos or websites devoted to this whole fart-sniffing thing; not that I’m complaining: it was good to discover that so many people actually had this fetish.

Cue Dave. Well, sort of, actually. He doesn’t have a fart fetish and he’s not even gay. Dave has been my best friend since forever. Unlike me, however, he’s straight and is currently dating some (lucky) girl.

Around my age, he’s like a brother to me, and we’re actually well-known because of how much time we always spend with each other.

Dave is a great guy, a great friend, very open-minded and, dare to say it, actually quite hot.

Not surprisingly, being the brother I never had, he’s the first friend I came out to, the only one who knows about my homosexuality. Actually, it’s not like I told him… he found out on his own, in the worst possible way (for me).

During one of our nerdy game-nights, being “that one gassy friend”, Dave started to rip -as usual- tons of farts, fueled by some junk food, until he ripped one directly in my face (and boy it was amazing…). Everything went downhill from there… kinda. For some reason or another… he just accepted all at once not only my homosexuality, but also the fact that I found face-farting… hot. He just laughed about it and honestly gave me some encouraging words about my peculiar situation, proving that he’s indeed the best friend ever. Oh… and he also literally farted for me after that, in my face, letting me sniff and enjoy his amazing rips; he can also fart on command apparently: got a taste of his talent that same night.

That one, surreal night.

I still can’t believe it happened.

Felt like a confused dream. Like one of those nights where you drink too much so you don’t clearly remember what happened. But it was all true.

Dave, my best friend, was perfectly fine with me, my fetish, and all this weird stuff.

Yes: I know how lucky I am.

It’s been 4 months since he found out.

And, believe it or not, I’m getting face-farted so often that I’m almost forgetting how beautiful it feels.

Seriously: Dave simply accepted it like I’m living in someone’s crazy fetish dream and, when we’re alone, he just casually farts in my face (without me asking for it). Not always, but very often.

Surprisingly enough, despite the fact that my nose spends a lot of time brushing against his denim-covered butt, our friendship didn’t change at all though: we still hang out with the rest of our friends and generally spend a lot of time together.

Sometimes I’m so in disbelief about how easy-going he’s been with me, that I randomly ask him “You sure you’re OK with… this?” (I say, gesturing all of me), but he just smiles or rolls his eyes annoyed, tired of hearing the same question over and over again. What can I say? He’s perfectly comfortable with his own sexuality I guess, so he doesn’t have any problem with my fetish.

Sometimes though -sorry I say this- I kinda wish he did…

No, I’m definitely not complaining. That’s the best possible scenario for me, but sometimes he can get a bit too… inopportune. Dave is not really a prankster, but he loves teasing his friends, just for fun, including me.

I was in the middle of an important exam once, one of these pop-quiz thingies that make zero sense, and I felt my phone vibrate. I checked my FB private messages and all I saw was this YouTube link sent by Dave. Since I’m a fool apparently, I clicked on it, and one of those popular YouTube fart videos popped up and played, one with really loud farts. The first fart actually echoed in the room and other students glared at me: never felt so embarrassed (not including the night Dave found out about my fetish).

“Dude! Stop sending me this stuff!” I texted him. “I’m in the middle of an exam here!”

I scolded him for this, but the truth is that I couldn’t ask for a friend more open-minded than him.

The fact that he teases him with fart videos like he teases our heterosexual friends with those “shock” porn pics made me feel more… accepted.

But still… I was in the middle of an important exam so he had to stop.

And he obviously didn’t.

He sent me like 10 other links, just to annoy the sh%t out of me.

I mocked him by texting something like “Those videos are quite hard to find. Guess you’re gay too then!” but he would reply with “I had a great teacher!” and send me one of my awkward photos from Facebook.

Other times, since our friendship didn’t change a bit, he even made random references to my homosexuality or even my fart fetish when messaging me to make plans for the night (especially during the weekend). This mostly happens on WhatsApp:

Dave: “Dude, you have to come with us. Stop being a whiny little bi*ch and get up from that couch!”

Tim: “Sorry, man. I don’t think I’ll be joining you tonight…”

Dave: “You know what? If you don’t come with us… you’re gay!”

Dave: “Sorry, I mean… if you don’t come with us, you’re a fuc*ing heterosexual!

Dave: "U ride pussy, don’t you? Fuc*ing straight people!”

He was obviously being sarcastic, but I just loved how he adapted his… uhm… “humor” to my situation.

One time, however, things got a bit… hotter for me…

Dave: “Dude, come over. We have a lot to study…”

Tim: “Sorry, really can’t today. Aren’t you with Dana right now anyway?”

Dave: “I need somebody to focus with, not focus on. You know me and Dana always end up in bed after like 20 minutes.”

Dave: “It’s awesome but this stuff ain’t gonna study itself…”

Yep. Dave and his girlfriend Dana apparently had a very active sex life.

Glad he was getting laid. And Dana was pretty cool to be honest.

Tim: “Dave, sorry. Maybe tomorrow, k?”

Dave: “Dude! Come on! I’m farting like crazy today!”

Did… did he just try to “bribe” me using his farting abilities?

Dave: “Seriously. I just ripped one that was like 10 seconds long. What a waste of farts!”

Tim: “Dave… are you crazy?”

Took a couple of minutes to reply to that one, and then I got two messages at once.

Dave: “Oh yessss, Tim, crazy for youuuuuu!” he wrote, with a heart emoticon at the end (again, he’s a sassy bi*ch as usual).

I then saw that WhatsApp was loading a video sent by him, an actual video, not a link.

It was Dave, a smirk drawn on his face while staring at the camera. He was wearing a simple black shirt. The view soon moved and I saw his slightly sagging-butt in jeans sitting on a wooden chair, and then heard this big fart echoing in his living room (he was alone), rumbling loudly and hard on the wooden surface. He even turned the camera to his face while he was forcing the “classic”-sounding fart out, making funny facial expressions; indeed, the fart lasted almost 10 seconds, and I obviously loved that: biggest farts I’ve ever heard from him in awhile! It was like watching those funny fartvines on… well… Vine, but having my best friend as the funny/hot farter this time.

Dave: “Hope that convinced you…” he then texted.

I was kinda… “offended” by that last message.

I mean, yeah, I seriously wanted to be there, but I always love spending time with Dave, farts or not (that’s why we’ve been friends since… forever).

Tim: “Are you seriously using farts to buy my friendship? It’s not like I don’t want to study with you. I just can’t today!”

Was that too harsh? Should I have added a smiley face at the end?

Only thing I was sure of, is that I never thought that a sentence like that would even make sense someday.

And I was still bewildered by how Dave was so comfortable with the fact that I loved farts.

Tim: “You don’t need farts to convince me, Dave. More like… you’re making me suffer!” I joked, finally breaking the ice myself with a reference to my embarrassing fetish, proving that I indeed wanted to be there with him, enjoying those farts.

Another couple of minutes passed.

Was he making another…?

Dave: “I know you’re suffering, Tim. Don’t worry. That’s why I’m sending you this.”

Oh boy, another video. Should I play it? Was he aware that I was getting a boner from all of this?

I literally pitched a tent in my pants.

There… it’s Dave again, this time sitting on the couch. The video started with his face winking at the camera with a sly smile; the camera then moved between his legs and slowly panned towards his butt in loose jeans (he probably put his legs on the small table in front of his couch, to make his butt more visible). Now I had a rather unique (and hot -for me) view of both his butt (and part of his crotch) in jeans and his face. He grinned wildly and the fart began, ripped right in front of the phone. The sound and the views were perfect; Dave moved the camera towards his butt as the fart kept going strong, sounding like a deep trumpet; I could see the detailed blue fabric of his jeans as the funny sounds continued. What a lucky phone!

It lasted around 8 seconds and it was simply the hotness.

The video ended with Dave laughing at the camera and all went pitch black.

Tim: “You’re insane, Dave!” I joked again, enjoying how crazy he was about this. And for me I guess.

But I had to tell him.

Tim: “Dave, you do know that all of this gave me a… well…”

But as I was halfheartedly writing the second part of the message, Dave wrote more stuff.

Dave: “Then go beat your meat! I can’t do everything for you, Tim.”

Dave: “And please don’t act like this is some kind of big deal…

Dave: "Wow, Tim got a boner! How impressive!”

Dave: “Let’s all bow to Tim, the mighty guy whose penis can turn bigger!”

Dave: “Behold, the Great Tim! The guy who once had a boner and had to tell everyone!”

Further proof that Dave was being the best friend ever.

He was clearly being sarcastic; he was joking. That was his way of telling me “Nah bro, it’s all good”. And I was kinda surprised that he was so… chill about this stuff. I literally had a boner because of him and he just… didn’t care. As I said, he’s very open minded and perfectly comfortable with his own sexuality, so he didn’t have the irrational fear of “turning gay” when doing this stuff with and for me. I also appreciated that he trusted me with those funny, but otherwise embarrassing videos.

After one or two minutes, I’ve received one big audio file and I just knew what I was going to get when I clicked the triangular-shaped button to play them.

I heard Dave singing my name like he was some kind of serial killer trying to find me.

Dave: “Tim… come here…”

I then heard a series of muffled noises, as if the camera was being put under something, and it was clear what: I in fact then heard the loud, audio-glitching sound of one big fart that lasted around four seconds.

Dave: “He’s waiting for you…” he sung again in that creepy tone of voice.

Another fart, just as big as the first one.

He was on fire that day!

Now I was both laughing like an idiot and having the biggest boner.

Tim: “Dude, you’re on fire! But… to be honest, that was kinda gay…” I chuckled.

Dave: “Says the guy who gets a boner when he hears a fart. You fuc*ing hypocrite.”

He then sent yet another audio file, with him singing that meme-song “I’m gay, gay, gay, I love long big c*cks”, but slightly changing the lyrics. He even put a karaoke version of it on his computer while recording the audio file.

Dave: “You are gay, gay gay, you love long big farts. ‘cuz you’re supah-super gay, and you love big…”

Fittingly enough, a huge fart from my best friend took over the last part of the song. Loud as usual, sounding like a deep chainsaw. I could just imagine how beautiful that was. But the best part was probably the fact that he was definitely farting for me. I know, not your usual “hot sexy” scenario… more like a “sweet” one, in a very twisted way of course.

I wasn’t obviously offended by that “gay song”, since I knew that Dave was just being silly as usual and his mocking words were definitely not mean-spirited.

Tim: “Aren’t you supposed to be studying right now?” I asked.

Dave: “I don’t know, aren’t you supposed to be here right now?”

Tim: “Dude, seriously. Thank you! But I’m serious… I really can’t today.”

Dave: “Alright… alright… cya tonight faggot…” he wrote, with a heart-shaped emoticon at the end.

I just rolled my eyes and chuckled a bit, then drove my attention to my own books.

This was going to be a long afternoon. But after only one minute of silence, my phone vibrated wildly: it was Dave and he was calling me. Very unusual in that moment.

“Uhm… Dave? Hello?” I picked up.

I was greeted by a series of “Dude, sorry!” and I was really confused.

“Dave… what?”

It was just Dave being adorkable I guess.

“Dude, sorry about that 'faggot'… that was bit too much, sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

I laughed in disbelief. “Bro, it’s OK. I’m not offended. I know you didn’t want to insult me or anything…”

“No, Tim. That one word is not a joke and I shouldn’t have used it, sorry.”

I was just… wow. Dave went from “dominant friendly farter” to “adorable/awkward confused puppy” in mere seconds. Further proof that I was the luckiest guy alive (fetish or not): Dave cared so much for me that he even apologized for the “f-word”, which admittedly is a very bad word for a guy like me. But this time it was coming from Dave, my best friend, a guy who cares so much about me that he would even “censor” his language just to avoid unfortunate implications.

Ironically enough, the roles were switched, and he was the one saying a rapid-fire series of “sorry!” this time.

“Dave, quit with the apologizing. You’re the best.” I chuckled. “We’re bros, that’s what we do: we insult each other!”

“Alright… you sure? Not going to use that word ever again though.”

“Dave… it’s OK. You’re the best.”

“OK… OK. See you tonight. Take care.”

And he hang up.

He just wanted to make sure that he didn’t accidentally offend me by calling me a “fag”.

I would have been, if it wasn’t coming from Dave.

But then again, he also said that he was going to kick in the face whoever dared to insult me.

And he said that before he found out the truth about me: he’s always been quite protective.

“Oh come on!” I shouted, almost annoyed, merely five minutes later, when I heard the phone vibrate one more time.

It was Dave. Again.

He sent another video.

I tried to scoff at it but I was obviously loving all of this instead.

He was lying on the couch, the camera focusing on his butt in jeans. I could see both his face and butt, at the same time. It was like he filmed the video imagining my POV when he farted in my face, and I absolutely enjoyed that.

“Alright, Tim… Sorry for calling you a faggot.” he spoke in a “comically” serious voice. He truly was “sorry”, but it was clear that he was trying not to laugh. “I’m really, really sorry, believe me.”

Keeping a straight face, he ripped an incredibly loud, deep fart at the camera. He didn’t bat an eye, blink or smile. He eventually lost it towards the end of that 6-seconds long blast. He chuckled a bit and then turned “serious” again.

“That was a sad fart… we’re both sorry.”

He then closed his eyes and made a funny face, signing in relief as he ripped another long fart, the lucky camera slowly panning towards the seams and textures of the blue denim covering his powerful sagging butt. It lasted almost 10 seconds: truly a fart master. And those weren’t even on command!

“Oh my…” I whispered, staring in awe at the amazing video.

“This one was on the house…” he chuckled, right before turning the phone to his butt one last time and ripping a short series of toots, grinning wildly, clearly forcing those smaller farts out just for me. And that was it.

My boner was definitely wet now as bits of that well-known white substance poured from the tip of of my “standing” dick, slightly dampening my boxers and pants. It was like a volcano going to explode. A volcano that, just like me, couldn’t take it anymore. I rushed to the bathroom and furiously beat my meat, almost strangling my rock-hard penis with a firm grip. I didn’t last much: I literally peed sperm, thinking of Dave’s farts. The best part is that I didn’t need to imagine anything: it was all real. I laughed in relief just as I felt my penis deflating like a balloon, after it vomited its white substance. It felt good, not “masturbation good”, like “life is good”. And it was.

My best friend, Dave, was this fantastic guy who, in his own, twisted way, was taking care of me, accepting me, making me comfortable with my fart fetish. A gassy, open-minded, mildly disgusting “bro” who only wanted to preserve our friendship.

And I couldn’t be happier.

End of Episode 1