#I feel like they're that one video that's like

[yieldtotemptation]

PAROXYSM ft. Mina

mina x male reader smut

part two of strange currencies

16k words

Go ahead, try and pretend like you’re not obsessed.

Like you’re not bothered that it’s been weeks since you had Mina—felt the heat of her body, the silk of her skin, the sweetness of her breath on your neck.

Since you've seen that ass. Had it in your hands, spread her cheeks with your fingers, stretched her wide with your cock and left Mina in tears, crying out—

"God, I can never go back from this."

And it’s not like you haven’t been searching for opportunities; a party you’d both be invited to, another gala, some event with enough plausible deniability for when you inevitably, ‘accidentally’ bump into her again.

But for some reason, nothing seems to align.

You’ll get word that she’s in Korea, basking in a rare stretch of free time, while you’re in Hong Kong, signing deals and making promises of dubious sincerity.

You’ll be rushing to return, already planning out how you’ll steal another taste of her, another touch; only to find out she’s been whisked away again—to Japan, or Brazil, or any one of the countless countries desperate to host her.

Glimpses is all you ever truly get—paparazzi shots, magazine covers, the odd video that passes through the digital ether.

So, yeah.

You let it rest, go through the motions, try to recreate it in the aggregate. There are plenty of pretty faces, eager bodies in your orbit.

But they're all just that: bodies.

Empty shells of what you had. They don’t laugh like her, they don’t keep you on your toes like she can, they don’t look at you with the same hunger.

(They don’t say your name like Mina did.)

—

“So,” is the first word you hear from Mina. Too much time has passed, and you’ve officially given up on any pretences of nonchalance. Decided to get straight to the point with the right people and just get her number. “I guess I’m not the only one who can’t stop thinking about that night.”

“Uncharted territory and all,” you’re repeating, and there’s a beat of silence on the other line.

A deep breath, and you swear you can hear her smile. “Definitely unique.”

It’s well past midnight and you’re tired and you’re feeling unusually vulnerable, so you're admitting things you'd usually keep under lock and key. “It’s been—you’ve been stuck in my head, Mina.”

“I know the feeling,” she sighs. Just the timbre of her voice and there’s shivers down your spine. “The memory alone is still—”

You finish for her, “Vivid.”

“I was going to say really fucking hot, but yes,” she laughs. “It’s helped me through some lonely nights. Remembering how you felt inside me, everything we did together it’s—God, you have no idea.”

“I’d argue I have the entire idea. For one—the stairs,” you’re supplying, grinning to yourself, leaning back in your chair, remembering the way she clung to you. How tight she was around you, how fucking new she felt as you filled her. “You were so fucking gorgeous. Never felt anything like it.”

“And the shower,” she counters, “you had me pinned against the tiles. Couldn’t move without you fucking me deeper. Just stuck with nowhere to go but further down your cock. No one’s ever done that to me.”

“Don’t forget the kitchen,” you add, “We got pretty creative with the utensils.”

Mina giggles. You didn't know she was capable of sounding so girlish. “I’ll never look at a spatula the same.”

It’s getting dangerous, each memory rekindling the flame of a night that you’d tried to convince yourself couldn’t have been as epic as you remembered. Couldn’t have mattered so much.

And yet here you are now, letting Mina stir up thoughts of her cunt gushing down her thighs, her nipples stiffening between your teeth, her ass choking your cock, the look on her face when she came all over you—and you know she’s wading through the very same set of flashbacks.

“Every time I close my eyes, I’m back in that garden. Your hands are all over me, your mouth everywhere—”

“Your cunt on my tongue—”

“Your fingers in my ass—”

“Your fucking moans, Mina—”

“Wait, I need to—”

Mina stops you, and you find yourself releasing a breath you didn't even know you were holding. You think you can hear her; hear the shutting of a door, a lock turning, frantic pacing, the squeak of a bed.

Your eyes close and you're picturing it now—Mina, laid back on pure white sheets, sprawled out like a Goddess. It's all there, crystal clear. Fingers dancing over her collarbones, tracing the delicate line of her neck down to the swell of her breasts.

Teasing herself, running her thumbs over her areola, the skin there a shade darker, a touch more sensitive. Pinching and pulling, peaks hardening into tight buds, missing the roughness of your tongue.

And then going lower, down over her ridged abs and between her toned thighs. Spreading her legs out in an invitation, toes curling into the mattress. Finding herself slick with need, so, so soaked. Dipping down to trace over her folds before sliding right into the wet heat.

Mina gasps. It's not your imagination. She moans into the phone.

You can almost taste her again.

She finds her voice. "Please, keep talking."

—

The first photo comes through the very next day.

You can intuit from the architecture in the background—the steep roofs, the brick exteriors, the gothic towers—she’s somewhere in Paris.

And there’s Mina, flat on her stomach, sheets tangled around her like the aftermath of a hurricane that’s swept through. Smiling at you straight down the barrel of the camera, cutting through the digital space between you. It’s sly and knowing and a little bit wicked, because she knows that it’s not the view of the city behind her that you’re looking at, nor is it even her face, usually so stunningly unavoidable and instantly captivating.

It's her ass.

Plump and round, poking over her shoulder, filling a whole corner of the frame. And you're spotting the indentations where your fingers have sunk in, the stretch of alabaster that your grip turned a shade of pink. A map of memories etched across the curve of her cheeks.

It’s a thousand words in a single photo, a message loud and clear, carefully composed to make you ache. So, you do. You ache.

You save the picture—not because you think you’re going to forget, but because you need to have a piece of her with you at all times.

Something to pull out when the days are too long, too dull. Something to look at when your memories of her aren’t enough anymore.

The photo, you notice, comes with a caption: ‘The only thing missing here is you.’

—

“Stability,” Mina’s telling you nights later, after you’ve spent close to an hour describing to her all the ways you’d like to have her again, like to break her down until she’s just a trembling mess of limbs and cum.

It’s a habit the two of you have picked up; these clandestine calls that come in the dead of night, during those rare occasions you’re in a reasonable enough time zone to talk. You’re actually in the same country this time. The States, but on different coasts, so, close enough.

She’s sending these breathy whispers down the phone; still coming down from her high, from the way her thighs clenched around her own hand, from the way she painted your name onto her skin with her own juices.

Still coming down from you, from the meticulously detailed step-by-step explanations of exactly what you’d do to her if you weren’t thousands of kilometres apart.

“Stability,” you repeat the answer she’s given to the question that’s been burning in your mind for weeks now. It’s certainly a faux pas to ask right after she’s made you cum across your own chest; but it’s late, and tonight’s suite is far too big and much too quiet—the kind of quiet that lets you think too much.

And so you had to ask her. Why was she still with him?

“That’s it?”

“That’s it,” Mina confirms. “I like stability, I like routine, I like knowing what to expect. Means I can never be disappointed.”

“Never be surprised, either,” you point out. She laughs, the sound warm and rich through the speaker.

“That’s never really been a problem.” She pauses. “Until you.”

There’s an alarm bell sounding somewhere, triggered by the way that last syllable curls around the corners of her lips, bounces across fifty different states to land in your ear.

You.

It rattles around your brain, punches you right in the gut. You try to play it off with a chuckle. But you both know what this really is. The desperation, the need. What you do to each other. How much of a fucking mess you’d make together if you had half the chance.

You make an attempt at being casual: “Apologies, then.”

“You kinda fuck everything up for me, you know?” She admits. “I was fine with it all. Leaving all of this as just a fantasy. Living with the boredom.”

“Everything’s boring.”

“Except this.”

You should really be above all this. The pining, the yearning. Having a crush.

It’s unbecoming.

Leave her alone. Leave her to the dream life she’s built up for herself. The career, the boyfriend, the whole shiny package that everyone’s decided she should want. It’d be the rational thing to do.

And yet— “So, what are we going to do about it?”

“I suppose,” Mina says, and once again, you're swearing you can hear her smile through the phone, because this is far from the end of things, “We’ll just have to find some way to scratch this itch.”

—

(It’s an outrageous abuse of power.

But so what? You’re an asshole billionaire, that’s what everyone expects of you anyway.

Besides, compared to your peers, it falls far short of bankrupting entire economies or causing irreparable damage to the Earth’s oceans and atmosphere.

So why not go full tilt and really indulge?

That’s basically the gist of your justification for forcing fate’s hand and manifesting your own ‘accidental’ meeting with Mina.

Still. It’s only a meeting.)

—

“Quite a situation you’ve engineered here,” is Mina’s first quip, as she steps right out of your daydreams and into your office.

Oh, you’ve been thinking of her.

Spent time replaying that night in your mind, revisiting the sight of her bouncing on that staircase, the feel of her soft skin slapping against yours, the sound of her sighs in your ears.

Obsessed over the messages, the photos, the videos she’s sent—how she moves, that coy smile on her face when she knows she’s got your full attention in her grip. All these mesmerising moments captured in high-definition.

And it’s coming back to you now—the waterfall of hair cascading down her shoulders, the red of her lips, the beauty spot on her nose, above her cupid’s bow—a constellation across her face.

(She makes your office feel small.)

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say, aiming for flippant, but missing the mark by a wide margin.

“Mhm,” is all you’re going to get, because you both know better.

She makes herself at home here, taking the long way to your desk. Hips swaying as she runs her fingers over the décor, the lights and the statues, the books and the furniture. Again, fitting right in with the expensive, the luxurious, the exclusive.

You’re not hiding that you’re staring, and she’s not hiding that she knows either.

Mina walks right past you, turns away so you can see the full sweep of her back, the high-waisted skirt that hugs her curves before flaring out at the waist. Eventually, she stops at the floor-to-ceiling window that overlooks the city, the urban sprawl below a far cry from the palatial gardens that backdropped your first encounter.

The sun’s setting overhead. It casts a warm glow over her. Outlines her figure in gold.

You break the silence, "Heard the photoshoot went well."

“Well, you get what you pay for,” is Mina’s second quip of the afternoon. She turns back to face you, leaning against the window frame, a perfect silhouette.

You can almost hear the glass tremble.

Mina asks, offhandedly, “You’ll have to enlighten me—is it standard practice for visitor passes to have access to every floor in the tower?”

“Security must be lacking.”

“Right,” Mina says. “And is it normal in your line of work, for the CEO to handpick the brand ambassadors?”

You shrug. “I like to get my hands dirty.”

“If that’s what they’re calling it,” she responds, smiling now. Pushing herself off the glass and taking a dangerous step forward.

“We were looking to appeal to our Japanese market,” you say, repeating the same lines you fed to your team, to her management, to anyone who bothered to raise an eyebrow. It’s a good lie. “Needed someone refined, someone that depicted class. Aspirational.”

Mina takes another step forward. Heels that make her legs look endless hitting the polished flooring with a click. "So that's how you see me, then."

"Amongst other, less appropriate things," you admit, already completely, hopelessly captivated.

"Let me guess: Stunning?"

"That's one."

“Fuckable.”

“Absolutely.”

“Submissive?”

“Are you asking, or telling me?”

Mina’s eyes dazzle as she closes the distance, rounding your desk and stopping just short of your chair. She waits for you to swivel and face her.

And then she leans forward, so close. Nose brushing yours, breath warm and sweet and familiar. Her hands land on your thighs, pushing your legs apart.

She drops to her knees.

“Telling.”

You can’t help yourself, you press your thumb to her lips, stamping it crimson.

It’s a wicked thing, how Mina’s bottom lip dips, how her tongue snakes out to lick the pad of your thumb clean. You push in deeper, watching as she takes you into her mouth, seals her lips around you and sucks.

How she’s looking at you now—building up this image of Mina; kneeling, the skirt riding up, her panties soaked with anticipation. Dressed like this is just another business meeting—masked in a high neckline and a smile so perfect against your skin.

That's today's game. Dress up.

Professionalism went out the window the moment she walked in—it barely crosses your mind to wonder whether or not she locked the door. You don’t even care.

Mina stops her little show, thumb pops out of her mouth with a wet sound, leaving a smear of red behind. There’s something about Mina, something that can’t be intuited unless she’s right in front of you, inhaling your exhales, smiling up at you like you're the only person in the entire world that matters.

It's like magic—makes everything and everyone else feel like a figment of your imagination.

“You forgot to mention a few other things,” Mina breathes on you, low and warm, priming you for a punchline that you know will send you reeling.

“Like what?”

“Oh, you know,” and she starts unbuttoning her blouse, reaching for the top button then— “How utterly,”

Then the next button.

“Desperately,”

More still.

“Needy,”

All of them.

“I am for your wonderful, perfect cock.”

The blouse opens up, falls away, drifts off her shoulders until it’s blood-red lace and vanilla-white skin.

Fuck.

(Mina’s not from this world, no fucking way. Definitely not human; jury’s out on if she’s some kind of Goddess. Probably something in between, come down from some place where the air is thinner and the lights are brighter.)

Your mouth is dry. “I could never forget.”

Mina’s eyes crinkle at the corners. Lips spread wide. She’s kissing your cock through your pants.

It’s electric. A long, teasing press of her lips that winds you so tight that just the slightest touch, just a single word could set you off.

Her teeth graze the fabric. You throb through the cotton.

“Mina,” you manage, hand dropping to the side of her face. There’s a tremor in your voice that you’re not used to, that you can’t even pretend to hide. Mina’s got you in the palm of her hand—or rather, on the edge of her lips—even though she’s the one on her knees.

“Relax,” she coos, holding her lips against you, deft fingers unlatching your belt, finding your zipper. “Let me take care of you. Let me take care of this cock,” honeyed words slipping out with the same ease that tugs you free, “Get my tongue all over it, take it deep down my throat, be such a good little whore for you—until you can’t think of anything but how much you want me to swallow every drop you’ve got for me, baby.”

You swallow, caress her cheek, “Darling—”

“Shh," Mina hushes, taking your cock into her hand, holding it against her cheek. So damn happy to have it so close to her mouth once again. “Everything you said over the phone. All that stuff about fucking my face, leaving a mess, filling up my throat—I want it all. You’re going to give it to me now, please.”

She doesn’t even look up at you, just so focused on your cock. Kissing around the shaft, and then drawing her tongue in one, slow, dragging lick all the way from your base, right to the tip. It’s gentle, careful, exploratory.

Introducing her lips to every inch of skin along your cock, over your balls, taking her time to stain all of you with the sheen of her kisses. Careful, so careful. Meticulous too, deep in concentration that you can almost feel her thoughts, intuit from the pressure of her lips how much this means to her. How much she needs it.

And it’s as her breath warms the head of your cock that you realise you’ve got a stranglehold on the armrest of your chair, holding it so tightly you could snap it in two. Not like there’s any helping it, nothing to do but brace yourself as she opens her mouth, pink tongue peeking out, and licks you again—longer, slower.

Holding still now, cock balanced on her tongue, fixing you with this stare.

A dare.

(Don’t move. Don’t interrupt. Let her do her work.)

That’s when her boyfriend calls.

Sorry, her partner.

A jarring noise, a slap in the face that breaks the spell. Vibrating atop your oak desk, a violent buzzing through the room—once, twice, thrice.

Mina’s eyes flick to yours. A split second, a single thought shared. There’s laughter on her lips because of course, because why the fuck not, because this is definitely your kind of chaos. You nod. You’re both in on the joke.

The phone’s still ringing, ringing, ringing.

And Mina’s mouth is still on you, tongue tickling underneath, lips wrapping around, before taking you in deep. Right as she accepts the call.

“Hmf?”

—

(A good idea to mention this theory you’ve been brewing for a while, the other reason why Mina still hasn’t broken up with boyfriend.

Because of you.

Because of how much fucking hotter it makes her. The thrill, the rush, putting a blemish on an otherwise spotless record.

And maybe you’re just as guilty—because you want to hear her lie to him too.)

—

“Still working,” is Mina’s deadpan over the phone, somehow keeping a straight face despite how full her hands are with you. She even rolls her eyes. “You know how it is—unreasonable CEOs jumping down my throat for no good reason at all.”

This woman.

Churning lies with such ease that you almost feel sorry for the poor, oblivious soul on the other end of the phone. Almost.

But Mina's too good at all of this. Too good at hiding it all. Too good at everything, really—whether it's singing, dancing, kneeling before you, making your cock disappear down her throat.

Just a slight adjustment in posture, and she’s taking you in deeper. A gentle suck, a swirl of her tongue around the ridge—and oh, the way she’s looking at you, eyes up and so damn full of mischief.

She’s fucking loving this. Loving the way you’re watching her, the way your hand finds her hair as she takes you in, the way you’re fighting to keep your composure. Fighting to keep your breath even and calm and to stop yourself from groaning so loud that it won’t just be her boyfriend, but the whole fucking tower that’s going to hear how much of a slut she is for you.

You can still hear his voice coming through—muted, indistinct—like a ghost, haunting the edges of this pornographic scene you’ve painted together. 

Fuck this guy likes to talk.

“Mhm,” is all Mina has to say to keep him convinced, to let him believe that she’s actually invested in whatever the fuck he’s on about. Keeping him none the wiser that her full attention is on you, her mouth moving up and down, her eyes glued to yours, watching every twitch, every drop of pleasure that flits across your face.

She reaches up with her free hand, wrapping it around the base of your cock. Gliding along your shaft in this twisting movement that sets your nerves alight.

Everything’s just so tight—her grip, her throat, your own breath in your chest.

“Mhm,” again, longer, sounding closer and closer to a moan than a casual agreement, but still, she’s playing the part. Barely listening to what he’s saying, because she’s doing this thing with her tongue—right at the tip, flicking it around your slit—that’s making you test the strength of your chair.

There’s temptation here—her mouth so warm, so wet—it would be so easy to grab a fistful of her hair and fuck her mouth like you know she wants. But you keep your cool, keep your hand gentle and steady atop her head, let her dictate the rhythm.

And when you hear the voice over the phone rise, maybe a bit of frustration or concern, maybe the start of something suspicious, Mina shamelessly pops your cock out of your mouth and answers, “Just having a snack. Late lunch break.”

She hits the mute button.

Bows her head deep, savouring each inch as she takes you deeper, making this fucking sound when your cock hits the back of the throat. Wet, gagging, sloppy noises that build this tension right at the base of your spine that leaves you aching, absolutely desperate to just give her more.

She holds herself there, choking so nicely, so sweetly, on your cock. Her eyes start water, it’s an effort to keep them open, but she’s still smiling through it all, just so delighted to finally taste what she’s been dying to have for weeks.

You’re struggling, “Fucking hell, Mina.”

Mina giggles into your cock, vibrating along your shaft. Pulls her head back; just a rope of spit that connects the two of you, glinting under the fluorescent lights. A poke of her tongue has her scooping it all up and slurping it all down, smacking her lips with a satisfied ‘ah’.

She unmutes.

“Sorry, it just tastes really good. Like nothing I’ve had before.”

There’s a confused murmur coming out of the speaker, a perturbed, “Really?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” and Mina has the gall to wink at you, the audacity to keep her hand on your cock, stroking it like it’s the most normal thing in the world. All the while she just chats to her boyfriend—partner, again—like you’re not about to cover her face with your entire load.

“Mina,” you let slip when she squeezes too hard, cranes her head to feel the weight of your balls on her tongue. Lapping away, licking and tonguing and teasing, until you’re gritting your teeth, holding back the moan that wants to break free.

The voice at the end of the line crackles, “Who’s that?”

Mina doesn’t miss a beat, “Boss for the day,” presses a wet kiss onto the head of your cock in a futile attempt to still you, “Really pushing me hard, making me work for it, you know?”

The voice relaxes, but not enough. “What’s going on over there? Something doesn’t sound right.”

“Everything’s perfect.” Mina’s just so pleased with herself, tongue dancing up and down, over and around, making the chair creak from the reflexive jerk she forces out of you. “I’m exactly where I need to be.”

“I told you that you shouldn’t do these types of jobs, you should listen to me and—”

“Get on my hands and knees and beg them to let me break the contract?” Mina smirks up at you, lips all smeared and messy with your arousal. “I can handle it” she continues on, dragging her lips to your base so she can slur into your waist, “I’m a professional. This is what I’m built for.”

God, he really doesn't deserve her.

He drops the subject so easily, moving on to talk more about him, about his schedules, his work, his boring fucking existence outside of her. And now you’re both rolling your eyes, sharing this secret, this ridiculousness that’s got you both on the edge of laughter and utter bliss.

Mina ups the ante, mutes her side of the call, and places the phone back on top of the desk.

You cock an eyebrow. “Seriously, him?”

She shakes her head. “No, just you.”

And she shows you, proves her point, because Mina’s not one for half-measures. Holds your cock tightly, strokes it again and again, one after another like it’s counting down to something explosive. Bomb’s ticking: the pressure’s building, the heat is coiling in your balls, but she keeps it steady, keeps it slow, keeps it right on that edge where it’s just enough to keep you there, but not enough to push you over.

“I’m just yours,” Mina hums, licking her swollen lips. “I’m yours to do with as you please, but,” she pauses, so she can jerk you just right, stroking with such finesse that you can't believe she's ever been with someone who didn't appreciate it, "I'm really hoping you let me swallow your cock now."

“You’re too fucking greedy.” 

Mina nods so earnestly.

So you give her what she wants, because what’s the point of playing this game if she isn’t going to win? 

You stroke the back of her head, guide her as she takes you all the way—nose to stomach, swallowing you up like you’re her favourite snack, her favourite secret. Her favourite lie to tell herself.

Fucking ridiculous. Too fucking much.

You lift your hips, leaving her to yank down your pants over your knees and to the ground. The clank of your belt buckle against marble echoes through the room, a starting gun to your undoing.

The phone’s still there, he’s still talking, a vaguely muffled annoyance. Mina doesn't even spare it a glance, just looks up at you, mouth full, eyes declaring:

‘Ignore everything else, just enjoy me.’

Fuck.

Mina’s cheeks hollow, her throat pulses, and gone is the usual effortless grace that she carries through everything she does.

No, she’s all raw, all passion. Sloppy now, greedy, showing you just how much she’s willing to do for you. It’s in the way she’s using her hand to squeeze the base of your shaft, the way she’s bobbing her head faster and faster.

Filling the room with the sounds of her slurps and smacking of her lips; her eyes watering with every deepthroat. Making her mouth this perfect, wet, hot little cave that’s swallowing you whole.

And you’re watching, watching every single move she makes. Unable to do anything else, really. Unable to think, to speak, to do anything but stare at her mouth, her eyes, her hand moving up and down, up and down—stare at Mina giving herself over to you.

“Jesus—fuck—” and there’s your voice back again, so much louder than you intended.

But Mina’s smiling around your cock, eyes still on you, urging you on, putting you under her spell. She’s playing with your balls now, her thumb brushing over the sensitive skin, her nails lightly scraping, and it’s like she’s got every button mapped out, knows exactly how to make you go off the deep end.

"Mina, you're just so," you try, rummaging through your addled mind for the right words to pin on this storm before you, "so fucking good at this," you finally settle on.

Mina's eyes light up, triumphant. Deep pools of brown swirling with all sorts of things—few that can be said out loud and even fewer that should ever be thought—and none of which she gives a flying fuck about.

Your cock slides off her lips long enough for her to slur, "Flattery gets you everywhere, sir."

“Mina.”

She's just so happy with it all—it's a little unsettling. Mina, all elegance and poise, so fucking giddy at the opportunity to debase herself at your feet.

She takes a breath, a real one, not the shallow, desperate ones she’s been taking for the past few minutes, and then she’s diving back down. You can see the determination in the set of her jaw, the way she’s holding herself in place with one hand on your thigh so she can devour you whole. And she’s doing a phenomenal job, really, because your cock’s so hard it’s almost painful, and your thighs are trembling with the effort of keeping still.

But she’s not done yet, Mina’s never done. She reaches behind her, unclips her bra with a flick of her thumb, slipping it off her shoulders—a silent, unnoticed escape.

Perfect little tits, perfect little dusky nipples, peaked and ready for your attention. 

She takes one in her hand, rolls the nub between her fingers, playing with it, plucking it like a guitar string, making it sing. Making sure you’re still looking, while she's still sucking you off with her mouth, still fucking grinning around your cock.

A true masterclass in multitasking.

Her other hand stays on you, working in tandem with her mouth. A stroke for every bob, a squeeze for every moan, and she’s whining into your skin, a muffled—mmph, mmph, mmph—so loving that you know it’s not just for show.

Her hand drops down, slipping between her legs, disappearing into the fabric of her skirt. You can’t quite see it, but you know by her sigh as she leans into your thigh, by the way her other hand pinches her nipple harder, that she’s pressing up and into herself.

The fabric’s too thick to see much, but you can imagine her—fuck, you don’t have to imagine—you can almost feel her, her fingers sliding into her wetness, her palm cupping her mound, her middle finger circling her clit like it’s the head of a tiny drum, matching the same rhythm that’s been driving this whole spectacle.

“Your fucking mouth, Mina.”

The words leave you on a groan, a tightening of your grip on her head as she just plays and plays. Every suck pure heaven, warm, wet, utterly divine; pulling your hips closer and closer off the edge of your seat, until you’re nearly falling down her throat.

But even Mina, for all her skill and polish, can’t hold out forever. The fingers at her cunt, the kneading of her own tits, the gagging around your cock, the oblivious boyfriend still blissfully unaware of the depraved scene unfolding on the other end of the line.

It’s a heady cocktail, and she’s had too much too quickly. Her throat’s tightening around you, rogue tears are sliding down her cheeks, and it’s about time that you both give up on pretence and hurtle straight to the crux of this entire escapade.

You stand, rising to your feet before Mina has you tumbling off your chair, sliding your cock out of her chasing lips.

“Mina,” you breathe, voice full of gravel, heavy.

Mina’s frozen, just staring at your cock dangling above her nose, her mouth open and wet, her big, brown eyes begging for its return to her lips.

“Mina,” you repeat.

“Mmm?”

“I want to fuck your face now.”  

Mina licks her lips. “Want to?”

“I will.”

“Please,” she says, a single word like a hot knife slicing through whatever restraint you have let. And you’re just about to lose it, really fucking lose it because she’s so fucking eager, so fucking hot for it, so absolutely fucking yours.

In your office, at your desk, kneeling at your feet, skirt rucked up around her waist, panties drenched.

She ties up her hair into a messy bun.

“Please, use me.”

A twist of your hips has your cock slapping against her cheek, the sound bouncing off the walls, leaving a trail of gloss across her flushed skin.

Mina laughs.

You lean down, grab her hair, thread your fingers through the strands, and guide her lips to where they were made to be.

“Christ,” is ripped from your throat as your cock is back down hers, plunging into her mouth like its home.

You push, push until her nose is squished against your pelvis, holding her there; her throat tight against your cock, her hand working her clit in double time. Whimpers escape past her lips, muffled whines that threaten to break you if you’ll let it.

But you don’t, not yet. You pull out, just long enough to let her gasp for air, only, she doesn't need the respite. She just blinks, and begs—

“Again.”

And again. And again.

Until she’s a writhing mess, until she’s shaking with the effort of holding herself together, until you’re plunging into her mouth so fast that you’re truly fucking her throat.

Deep, harsh strokes that make her cheek bulge, that fuck tears from her eyes. And Mina fucking loves it. Loves every second of it, loves having her head thrown back, her throat working for you like it’s your divine right, like her sole purpose in life has been to take your cock.

You’re fucking her face like you said you would, like she’s been begging you to do for weeks, whispering sweet nothings and filthy somethings into your ear during those late-night phone calls. Giving exactly what she’s been craving, exactly what she’s been dreaming about when she fucked herself so nicely for you to hear.

And she’s just taking it, letting you use her mouth like it’s nothing, because to her, it’s everything.

She’s lost in it, her hand a blur between her legs, her eyes glazed over. She’s so close, so fucking close, and she’s taking you with her; dragging you down into this pit of depravity that she’s been keeping warm for you.

“Mina?”

And there’s the phone again. Louder now, insistent, demanding. Finally noticing somethings not quite right.

"Mina?"

There’s panic in Mina’s eyes—but you’re quick to realise it’s not worry for him. It’s desperation for you. For you to keep going, for you to not notice, for you to keep the fantasy alive.

But you do notice. And it just makes you harder.

You're too far gone now—you're thrusting into her mouth with a fervour that’s almost violent. Mina’s eyes widen, but she doesn’t pull away. Instead, she takes it all, letting you fuck her face with a reckless abandon that’s only heightened by the voice on the phone getting louder, more concerned.

You’re the only voice she’ll listen to now. “Hold still for me, Mina.”

Her eyes go wide, and she nods, her mouth stretched wide around you. Cradling her cheeks, just firm enough to feel the heat of her blush.

“Mina, why are you muted?”

She’s barely even on this planet anymore—just bringing herself closer to the edge, loosening these ragged, wet moans around your pistoning cock.

“Mina, are you ignoring me again, seriously?”

“Mmph—fuh—mmph—” is her attempt at an answer, but she’s too busy letting you use your mouth, too busy fucking herself on her fingers, too busy being the perfect little slut she’s told you she wanted to be.

It fills the room—the sounds of wet, sloppy sucking, careless fucking, your own grunts of pleasure. And somewhere in the background, that voice getting more and more insistent.

“Mina, say something, answer me!”

And she does. Just not to him. She says it to you, mouth full, eyes on yours.

Garbled, stuttered, fucked-up little pleas— “there—there—please—please—oh my god—"

Her hand moves faster, her throat seizes, her eyes roll back in her head. Her body jerks, her hand still working her clit, her mouth still full of you.

Mina cums at your feet, a terrible, beautiful orchestra of noises—moaning, gurgling, gagging around your cock. Swallowing, desperate for a breath of air, trying not to choke, eyes watering so badly it’s a surprise she can see you at all.

You pull out, so abruptly that she gasps and stumbles a little. And yet, despite it all, despite how brutally hard and fast her orgasm hits her, she’s still smiling up at you, as graceful and gorgeous as ever.

So fucking proud of herself.

And she’s not done yet. She’s never done, not really.

Her hand comes up to catch you, holding your cock like an anchor, keeping you ready as she takes a moment to recover. The other reaches for the phone, a shaky hand bringing it to her lips, level with your own tip.

She takes a breath. She’s going to answer.

She unmutes again.

“Sorry. Can’t talk. Gotta finish something big.”

“Mina—what the fuck are you—”

Mina gives you that look—that nod.

Sucks you in one last time, gives you a final choke. A desperate gag, a deep impossible swallow down her throat. And then she releases you from her lips.

The phone clatters to the floor, forgotten.

“Cum for me, please, baby.”

At her instruction, you're erupting.

Mina captures the head of your cock with her lips, keeps it balanced on the edge. Uses both hands to twist and wind around your shaft. Overwhelming you, seizing you into her mouth because this is exactly what she’s been starved for.

Breaking a fucking dam inside you, flooding her mouth with your cum, completing her with your taste. It hits the back of her throat, thick and hot and she swallows and swallows and swallows.

So fucking grateful for every drop, for every pulse that shoots into her mouth, coating her tongue, sliding down her throat. She’s drinking you down like water, like air, like she can’t get enough of you, leaving you breathless until all you can do is just repeat her name over and over again—an endless chant of “Mina.”

And when you’re finally done, when every nerve-ending in your legs isn’t burning down and threatening to take you with it, you pull out of her mouth, gasping for air.

Mina just sits there.

Looking up at you, naked chest heaving, nipples stinging red. Cum slipping out the corners of her mouth, staining her chin. Skirt ruined, panties a sodden mess around her ankles. Hand still on your cock, coaxing you to peace.

And fuck, it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.

With a smile that could melt the coldest of hearts, Mina reaches down to the floor and picks up the phone. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, not even bothering to be delicate about it.

"Hey," she says, voice miraculously calm and collected. "Sorry—got distracted."

You watch, utterly stunned, as she plays the part of the girlfriend so flawlessly, puts on an Oscar-worthy performance. You can hear the boyfriend's voice, frantic and worried—and completely fooled.

But then she looks at you, clears her throat, and her smile goes wide, and you can see the woman beneath the façade. The woman who's had enough of being bored. Who's decided that she's owed the impossible fantasy.

Kneeling on the floor, yet more powerful than ever.

So, so fucking perfect.

Spreading her thighs, fingers back at her cunt, carefully toying with her clit. Building herself back up to that peak she’s just thrown herself from, because apparently, that’s what you’ve taught her to do.

To never settle, never stop, never be satisfied with just one taste.

You’re cock throbs.

“Mina, you need to tell me what the fuck is going on.”

Her hand moves faster, her thumb circling and pressing, her middle finger slipping inside herself. You can see the gleam under the artificial lights, how her cunt’s making everything sticky and messy.

Making herself nice and ready.

“There's a big mess here,” she says into the phone, all sugary sweet, a perfect story that drips from her tongue like molasses. “Lot of clean up. It’s ruined me—ruined the whole job. It’s gonna keep me here all fucking night.”

—

(It’s just an arrangement.

That’s what you’re calling it when the moon’s rising over your office, and Mina’s kissing these promises over your heart, drawing up the terms of this unwritten contract that neither of you can really commit to—even though you're both well aware of how much you want to.

Sex, as an agreement. Sex, as a release. Sex, because you’re both fucking incredible at it.

It just might be everything you both need.

You're both just too afraid to be the first to say it out loud.) 

—

Weeks later, and you get really fucking good at making time for her.

Whether it’s fifteen minutes at a party, a couple hours at an airport, or a few nights spent in a hotel room with the curtains drawn and a do not disturb sign nailed to the door—everything starts to fall into place.

There's always an empty room to be pulled in to, a shadow to be claimed, a corner of the world that belongs to you.

It���s Mina, straddling you in the backseat of a limo, her cunt tight around you as the city lights slide by. Your hand on her throat, not choking but guiding, a conversation based on pressure and pleasure alone. Her tits bounce in your face, begging for your teeth, and you give it to them, biting down until she’s gasping your name into the leather upholstery. The chauffeur pretends not to notice. You don’t pretend anything.

It's you, bending her over the bathroom counter of some stranger’s house, her rather business-like slacks down at her feet to expose the bare, wonderful convex of her ass. You spank her until she’s crying, until she’s bright red and demanding that you make good on your promise to fill her up so she can’t leave this party without globs of you leaking down her legs.

It’s hotel beds that have seen too much, office desks forced to bear your weight, dressing rooms with the door locked tight.

It’s the way she looks at you when she thinks no one’s watching, the way she says your name. How she laughs, how she teases you, how she lets you in—just a little, just enough to keep you hooked. And you do the same.

It’s sex, but it’s not just sex, no matter what you tell yourself.

And it’s Mina again, fixing her hair while you zip her into something far more appropriate, already mentioning, “I'm going to be in New York next week, if you're in the area—"

And it's you, answering in the same way that you always do, "I’ll find a way."

—

Serendipity finds the two of you in Shanghai, amidst all its concrete jungle and neon lights, kept at bay by the soundproof windows and the drawn curtains of this hotel room turned temporary sanctuary.

Mina's stretched out on the bed, wearing one of your shirts that swallows her up to her knees, her hair a mess of curls and knots that she hasn't bothered to tame. Nose buried in a book—something thick and weighty Nayeon recommended her.

Paying no mind to you, as you’re busy brewing tea in the kitchenette (piping hot, oolong, how she likes it).

You sneak a glance as you wait for the kettle to boil, at the perfect picture she's composing—her bare legs peeking out from the shirt, the soft curve of her waist, the way the light from the bedside lamp casts shadows across her skin.

It's seeing her like this, far more exposed and naked than minutes ago when she was pinned beneath you wearing nothing at all, draining your cum into her cunt and thanking you for the privilege.

The drawbridge is coming down, guards leaving their posts—just the two of you in your stolen moments.

It's nice.

She catches you staring.

Tilts her chin down, peering at you over her glasses.

You ask, "Am I distracting you?"

"Always," she says, and it's loaded with the sum of whispered secrets and inside jokes, the weight of a dozen different glances stolen across crowded rooms. She closes the book, setting it aside, and pats the you-shaped imprint on the spread next to her. "Come here."

You bring a steaming cup over, handing it to her, adding a little more warmth to her side of the bed. An unneeded murmur of thanks, a smile that's brighter than any of the skyscrapers gleaming outside, and a careful sip.

You wait for her review.

A cool, clear, "Ah."

And as for your reward, she sets the mug down on her lap, closing her eyes and pursing her lips. Waiting, patiently.

It's built in you like a habit now—lean in, get the light peck you're owed. Gentle press against her lips, nose bumping up against her glasses, sweetness that makes her cheeks flush a lovely shade of pink.

Just so fucking cute and domestic that it almost feels wrong.

The normalcy, you're realising—doing something that millions of other people do every single day—kisses that aren’t about fucking, power plays and games. Kisses that are just...kisses.

Mina's on the same wavelength, that's her thing now. Looking at you with a slanted smile. A little disbelieving, a little amused.

You're sure you're mirroring it back.

“This is... weird, right?” You finally say, breaking the silence. Feeling the weight of the question, the implication of what you’re really asking. Is this okay? Is it allowed? Can we put a name on this without the whole world imploding?

Mina's smile doesn't falter. "Kinda," she says, and her hand's slipping into yours, her thumb tracing little circles against your palm. “Very. But also, good.”

You nod, not quite believing it. You've had relationships (is that what you're calling this now?)—but none of them felt like this. Like, sure, she makes you hard, but fuck if she doesn't make you weak.

Pulling you into this loop of familiarity, learning things about her that you would've dismissed if it was anyone else. Not just the carnal things—the ones that make her thighs run with need, that make her chant your name like it’s the only word she knows.

Normal people things. Snack addictions, sleeping habits, temperature controls.

The mug goes to the bedside table, and Mina twists her body into yours, landing her head on your lap and curling her legs up so they stay on the bed.

"You know," she says, still holding your hand, fingers tracing up your forearm now, nails drawing in a light tattoo. "I thought that this wouldn't work out."

You mention the obvious. "Because you still, technically, have a boyfriend?"

Mina stretches herself out against your waist, incidental movements that just so happen to make you stir. "No, darling," she's saying, turning to look at you, making your heart stutter. "It's because you're you. Relationships just don’t seem to be in your nature."

You feign injury.  

Even though, truth be told, she has a point there. You’ve never been one for the quiet moments, for the mundane comforts, mornings next to someone you spent the night with.

Maybe it's your own guardrails you've put up, maybe it's some sappy Trojan Horse she's pushed through the gates of your stoic heart—but here you are, stroking her hair while she holds your hand, your fingers playing with the soft strands like you're trying to learn Braille.

"You know," she says, reaching it out to run her thumb down the line of your jaw, "guys like you are all the same."

You arch a brow. "I think I’ve heard this one before.”

"Let me finish," she says, "Obsessed with the thrill of the chase, with the idea of something you can't have. And when you finally get it, you just...disappear."

She grants you the headspace to ruminate over that one. 

"Are you saying I already have you?"

"Haven’t figured it out yet?" she whispers, shifting her weight on the bed. Another Mina special, the incidental movements, shirt pulling taut against her, and with benevolent grace, it slides down an inch. The swell of her breast revealed, an already pebbled nipple peeking out. A shy secret. As if.

And she knows. Mina knows what it takes to turn you on because, deep down, she’s the same. Different animals, same beasts, the roles could easily be flipped: her the billionaire, you the idol, and it would still end up the same.

You’re both chasers of thrills, craving the high of the untouchable, the unattainable.

Doing whatever it takes to feel alive—that's what it boils down to, isn't it?

"I meant it, you know," you're saying, exposing yourself, all gooey and raw. "Never once dreamt of owning you."

It's obvious where Mina's headed with this. So used to people just laying claim of her without even asking—like it's their fucking right. Believing that just because she’s in their vicinity, smiling all pretty and dressed up, she's fair game. Thinking the fame has done to her what it's done to so many others, turned them into commodities.

And maybe she's let them believe the fantasy, it's her job after all, to fuel the delusion and make it feel real. But never once did she truly belong to anyone but herself.

And yet, and yet, and yet.

Mina lifts herself off your lap, body bowing, leaving the shirt to ghost down her arms and leave her chest bare.

Closer still, until she's straddling your hips, thighs pressing down on either side of your legs, and oh, mystery solved, there was nothing under the shirt but her.

And again, Mina, on the subject of your title over her: "Not even if I wanted you to?"

—

(It takes the length of a phone call for Mina to be officially yours.

Brutal in her efficiency, cutting the guy down and pushing him off the cliff of the inevitable.

You're just as cruel, laughing between her thighs as she slurs vague platitudes, barely encroaching on an apology, uncaring bullets flying across borders.

And then the 'I can't' when prompted for a chance to negotiate, an 'I'm busy' when the pleas come, and a final 'just fucking give up already' when the desperation gets too much and he's becoming less and less important the further your tongue gets into her cunt.

Poor bastard doesn't even know he's not the only one getting fucked.)

—

You feel like you’ve earned the right to be a tad more reckless.

So, dates.

Conventional, yes, but fuck you could do with some of that now. You had the money, the power, and now you had the girl. So, secret dates, grand gestures, the whole nine yards.

And yet, each one was its own little disaster.

An example: the restaurant.

Michelin stars, gourmet courses, over-the-top bullshit that you unashamedly love. Booking out the entire joint for the night, only for it to all go haywire when Mina showed up in that dress; tight, tiny, black.

"Eyes up here, darling," is what she said, before, "Or, you know, don't. I like the attention."

Just fucking you all the way up, having you pushing her into a backroom before the wine was even poured. Ruining said dress, rucking it up to her waist, making it some poor drycleaner’s problem.

“I was never big on grand gestures,” she assures you, as you pepper her neck with kisses, hands curving around to her breasts on sheer instinct.

"Wish you'd told me that in advance."

"And miss out on this?" Mina groans something fierce when your fingers find purchase. “Never.”

It's just Mina and you, doing what you've done a dozen times over by now, having long blown past any insecurities that this might just be too good, too perfect, that one of you might be the first to bolt for the door and run.

“I swear to god,” Mina’s managing, as you’re shoving her panties to the side, because you’re both well aware that this has to happen right here, right now. “This cock is going to be the death of me.”

You chuckle against her throat. “Wouldn’t be a bad way to go though, right?”

“You’re insatiable.”

“Says you.”

“Please, just—”

Your hips snap into her. She flinches. Screams your name so fucking loud.

Each and every one of the kitchen staff receives a very, very sizeable tip.

—

It becomes a problem.

Oddly enough, neither of you are at fault.

Leaked photos light up every website, tabloid, and social media platform in mere minutes—Mina and her ex, wrapped up in each other’s arms, the unmistakable blur of a bedroom in the background. Nothing too lurid, nothing too explicit—but just enough to get the world to gasp in collective shock.

The fucking coward did it. You never knew he had it in him.

Sure there's dating on the pictures. Years, probably, back to when their happiness couldn't be called into question, but it does its job.

The statements pointing this out do little to shift the public's attention though, they've already latched on to the chance to rip apart her spotless record. You’ve seen it before, a hundred times with a hundred different celebrities. The cycle of love turned to dust in the blink of a camera flash.

And yet despite all of this, despite the shitstorm that’s swirling around her, despite the radio silence you're expecting, not an hour passes before Mina's calling you again.

“I need you.”

“Then come over.”

—

Mina belongs here, it’s so obvious.

Walking through the rooms of your home like she’s always been there, like she’s what’s been missing.

None of the art on the walls, the books on the shelves, none of the sculptures worth more money than any person should ever see in their life—none of it make as much sense as she does here, in your space.

Ours, you’re already thinking.

While you’re staring at her, she’s taking it all in—every detail of your domain, eyes brushing over the aged furniture and modern finishes, each aspect of your home that you’ve curated as meticulously as you’ve cultivated your own reputation.

She doesn’t say a word about whatever conclusion she’s drawing—because she’s not the type to judge—she’s just curious. She’s always been curious.

And then she’s in your arms.

Hands looping around your neck as you hold her tight, like it’s been years instead of the mere days since you’ve seen her. Since you’ve felt her heat, heard her whimpers, felt her nails dig into your skin like she’s trying to slip in underneath.

“It was inevitable, right?” She whispers against your collarbone. “Something was bound to fuck this all up eventually. My life, yours. It was all too perfect.”

You hold her tight. Letting her sink into your embrace, disappear into your chest. She’s so small in your arms—not that she’s ever not been, but right now, it’s stark. Like she’s shrunk, folded herself into something more manageable, something easier to hide. Something that won’t be torn apart by the teeth of the media and the rabid fans.

Kiss the top of her head to make her relax a fraction, opening a pressure valve that releases a shaky exhale.

You point out, “It still is.”

Mina blinks up at you, and you pretend you don’t see the dampening in the corners of her eyes. “I need to do the whole apology tour now. Keep my head down, hide my face. That’s what they’re saying anyway. What they expect.”

You shrug. “Could hide out here.”

That makes Mina smile, laugh even, colouring her features with something far more impactful than any of the decor. “And, I'm guessing, fucking each other’s brains out from sunrise to sunset?"

"There'll be a couple of meals in between. You may be surprised to learn I make a mean bowl of ramen."

Mina laughs again, and it’s the sweetest sound in the world—like the chiming of a bell that’s only meant for you. She looks at you, really looks, and you can see the wheels turning in her mind, the genuine consideration she's giving your proposal.

“What do you say?”

“I—”

Before she can finish, you add, “I can handle our little problem. Just leave it to me.”

Mina blinks. There’s the curiosity again. “Handle?”

“Yeah,” you reply, vaguely amused. Something darker in the back of your throat. “I know some people. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

Mina stares at you aghast, the smile slipping from her lips. Wondering if she might have missed something in the reality of the billionaire with a silver tongue and a penchant for ruining dresses.

It’s your turn to laugh. “I’m kidding, Mina. Jesus, the look on your face. I’m not going to have the guy killed.”

Mina rolls her eyes. Slaps your chest with a little more force than intended.

You add, with a Disney Villain-worthy ominous tone, “For now.”

“You ass,” she says, but she’s smiling again, the tension all but dissipated.

“Not even I’m capable of having that sort of thing arranged. Well, maybe I am, just never tried, so—” you begin, only to stop immediately at the curving of Mina’s lips. “I was just planning on doing a bit of spin. Tap some of our PR Wizards, maybe offer the wolves something juicier. Whitewash the whole thing—shut him down.”

And a cherry on top of your whole plan—

"Make him wish I'd kill him instead."

Mina’s expression shifts, taking pause to study your face, your words. It’s the pragmatism that gets her, you think—but it’s baked into who you are. You don’t get to a billion dollars by making friends.

As a point of clarification, she asks, "What are you going to offer the press? I mean, you’re not going to leak dirt on someone else, are you?"

You shrug, an easy smile playing on your lips, "I was thinking we could just go public with us. Offer our whole thing."

"You're serious, aren't you?"

"My jokes usually make you laugh."

Mina takes her time to ponder this, to consider what you’re actually saying. To process the idea of turning all this—the sneaking around, the private moments, the stolen kisses—into something so exposed. Something translated and made palatable for public consumption, to be picked apart by the vultures skirting the edges of the media.

And there’s fear there too. That the thrill could wear off for her again, the exhilaration could evaporate, and the boredom would settle in.

Or it could be a whole brand-new opportunity. Replacing one thrill with another, the rush that comes with being seen together, the excitement of the chase being replaced with the passion of the capture.

She asks, slowly, carefully choosing each word, doing her best to avoid setting off a bomb that could send this whole thing into a downward spiral. "Is this what you want to do?"

You pull her closer, fit her body flush against yours, and bring your lips down onto hers. You let them linger, let her sigh, let her melt and keen and smile against your mouth.

"Darling," you murmur against her lips, "I've been ready to tell the whole world since the moment I sat down next to you."

—

Sometimes, the conventional ways are the best.

Stumbling through your house—kissing her hard in the hallway, losing her skirt in the kitchen, tearing off her shirt at the top of the staircase. Carrying her past the threshold of your bedroom and leaving her panties at the door; truly letting her into your world in every way, shape, and form.

Holding her close, one hand at her waist, the other looping around her chest. Kissing into her neck as you lay her down onto your mattress, getting up close and personal until it’s all Mina, all the sweetness and heat of her, the richness of her perfume that’s become her signature.

The red of her blush, her lips, the marks you’re leaving on her skin. The white of her throat, her collarbone, the bra that’s half on, half of.

Pinning her wrists over her head, keeping her still, watching her pupils dilate.

Fucking flawless. Every inch, every glorious detail. Underneath you, at your mercy, already staining your sheets with her need.

And then, a beg:

“Please.”

“Greedy.”

“It’s how you made me.”

Your other hand ventures lower, drifting down her stomach, holding against her abs, leaving your fingertips to ghost over her mound.

She shudders at your touch.

You let her know, “I wasn’t complaining.”

And your tongue is on hers, soft to start, relaxing into familiar patterns, swipes of reintroductions, until Mina’s arching her back, urging you on. But you’re greedy in your own way; wanting to take your time, wanting to extract all these sighs and moans straight from the source.

Only, Mina’s having none of it.

“You’re really going to torture me after the day I’ve had?”

You quirk an eyebrow, push your thumb down against her clit. Applying enough pressure to make her hips buck.

"Torture is a strong word, darling."

Mina's huffs as you hold her there, keeping her locked in place and at your mercy. Wriggling under your grasp, but not making any real effort to escape. After all, where would the fun be in that?

"Fine," she's relenting, eyes slipping shut, unable to hide the smile that’s making its way onto her face. "Call it what you want. Just—more."

"Then let's just call it a pleasant distraction."

Your lips are together once more, your kiss quickly turning from something sweet to something a lot more demanding. Throwing Mina a bone, pressing into her a declaration of intent that has her wild for you.

You take your fingers, slide it down, swiping through her folds. Dancing around her entrance, seeing how nice and slick she already is for you, feeding that gnat in the back of your head that urges you to just fill her whole. Right before pressing up into her cunt.

“Yes,” Mina whispers into your mouth, hips rising to meet your hand, helpless little shivers around your first, then second digit—pushing until you’re knuckle deep inside her heat, making her squirm and cry, “Just stretch this fucking pussy, please.”

“Oh, you’re so wet for me,” you say, like it's a surprise, like she's ever not, like she doesn't part her legs and beg for you to take the invitation to her cunt every single time.

And Mina’s reaffirming, “Of course I am, I’m always—” but she never gets to finish her sentence, because you’re sliding a third finger in, and she’s trying so hard to keep it all together despite how determined you are to pull it all apart.

You’re too attentive—watching her face, every micro expression. Watching for every twitch, every whine, every cry that gets stuck in her throat when she tries to swallow it down.

There’s beauty in all of it, every single time, you could never get enough of it. Been burned into you now—what it takes to make Mina come undone. The right ways to touch her, the spots that make her preen. Where to be gentle, when to be rough, how to keep her guessing.

It’s all here, now, distilled to its basest elements, and it doesn’t even take much. You’re too good at this, know her far too well to need anything other than the sound of her breath to dictate your pace.

Your thumb plays at her swollen clit, doing nothing but pressing down as your fingers saw in and out of her slippery cunt, making her clench around you like she always does. Faster and faster, until she’s crying for it, shivering and trembling underneath you, struggling against your hold on her wrists because she's dying for something to hold onto.

“You—you’re too much,” Mina pants, because that’s all she can do now as you push into her with purpose. So, so fucking wet, creaming around your fingers, pooling in the palm of your hand. “Too—too—too fucking—”

Losing control over her own limbs, cumming with a sharp cry, levitating off the bed as your hand works magic between her legs, needing a hard kiss to ease her back down to Earth.

The aftershocks still roll through her body, leaving her with these tiny, frantic whimpers. You keep her pinned, soothe her with your thumb at her clit, padding around in gentle circles, feeling her spasm and pulse around your fingers.

Your kiss ends on that high note, parting lips to give Mina a chance at a complete inhale. Her chest is heaving, nipples poking out of the top of her bra, skin already sticky with sweat. Eyes opening, hazed over with need and the beginnings of tears.

“I—I need more.”

Hands let go of her wrists, fingers slide out of her cunt, and you lean back to watch her try to compose herself. It’s a battle she’s not winning.

Mina’s blinking up at you, trying to catch her breath, trying to remember how to do anything other than be fucked into oblivion by you. You help her—leaning over, thumbs hooking under her bra straps. Pulling it down with a gentle tug that makes her arch into the motion, makes her chest spill out and your mouth water.

You take the chance to admire her. To drink her in, appreciate her the way she deserves to be appreciated—a masterpiece spread out on your bed, naked and needy.

There’s the intoxication, knowing you’re the one that did that to her, knowing that you’re the one that’s going to do it again. Over and over again.

“If I have to wait another second, I’m going to scream,” Mina says, the demand losing its edge in a whine.

You chuckle, press an open-mouthed kiss onto her breast, sucking a nipple between your teeth.

Sometimes, you just can’t resist.

“Let’s not pretend that isn’t exactly what I want.”

“Make it happen, then.”

Mina holds position as you pull back, keeping her hands over her head, keeping as still as a statue as you come to your knees over her. Eyes on you as your shirt, your belt, your pants go. Eyes on your cock as your briefs fall away, leaving it standing tall and thick and ready for her.

There’s power dynamics at play here—how Mina’s so vulnerable to you, how she’s laid herself out, unwilling to move until you tell her to. She understands it, implicitly. Knows she’s playing right into your hands, forced to wait while you let the anticipation build.

You hold your cock above her, stroke it carefully. Watch her eyes track it. See her gulp.

And she begs, again, “Please,” softer now, the unmistakable tremble in her voice. "I just—I need it so fucking bad."

Whether on purpose or by instinct, her legs splay, presenting her pussy, glistening with want. There’s the pulse in her clit, the need dripping over her folds—you feed the agony just a little more, hovering over the entrance, letting the tip of your cock graze over it. Teasing, taunting.

"Beg for it."

Mina opens her mouth, but she fails to summon the words. Just leaves her lips hanging open, leaving you an opening for your fingers to push in and try to help her find the right plea.

Her tongue flicks out, licks at your digits, the taste of her arousal still thick on them. The wetness of her tongue as she sucks, the suction of her lips as she envelopes each finger, one by one. Savouring her own flavour with deep, longing slurps, with grateful hums resonating around your fingers.

Leaking down the tip of your cock, cunt getting wetter and wetter the longer she’s denied. Making you throb against her, making your hips jerk and bump dangerously close to where she needs you to be.

But you still don’t enter her. You just wait until she’s done, until your fingers are clean and wet, and she’s left a trail of kisses up to your wrist.

It’s then that you drag your fingers out from her lips and demand of her once more:

“Beg.”

And this time, Mina’s able to say it clearly, confidently, right from her chest—

“I need you inside me. Need to feel you so deep inside me that I can’t tell where I end and you begin. I want to make you cum so hard you’ll never want to leave, want to leave your mark so deep inside me that even if you do, I’ll still feel you.”

Each word, a fucking gift.

And her reward—

A hard, quick plunge straight into her cunt. Inside her, instantly buried, immediately unbearable. Just too good.

Mina can’t do anything, just dig her nails into the sheets and try not to scream at the suddenness of it, at the way you complete her without any warning at all.

It all just ripples through her, a second orgasm already possessing her and forcing her into seizure. Can’t even hold it together—can’t keep the moans contained, can’t keep herself steady—can only just lock eyes with you and hope that you’re seeing it all, hope that you’re feeling it too.

Mina’s got no control around you anymore, none at all.

“Your cock,” she’s saying, repeating it over and over. Like it’s brand new to her, like it hasn’t ever left her wrecked a hundred times over.  “Your fucking cock.”

Words punctuated by the slaps of your hips, the wet sounds of your bodies colliding, of Mina welcoming every stroke of your cock inside her. So fucking tight, gloved around you like it was forged specifically for your cock; not for anything else but you, only you.

“So hard, my God.” Mina’s hands clasp behind your neck, needing a firm hold on something solid and real. “So fucking hard for me, so—so—fuck—”

Her lips are everywhere, a flurry of butterfly kisses across your cheekbones, the bridge of your nose, the edges of your jawline. Crazed, unbridled assault of affection. Disarming, incredibly hot. Mina doing her best to mark you up before she’s torn away again.

It’s far too early in the processions—habit would usually have her playing it cool, trying to keep up the façade of control, hold onto shreds of dignity, until she’s unravelling completely and begging you to fuck her harder, deeper.

But now, she’s just letting you have her.

No games, no pretences.

Just you, and her, and this wild, hopeless need to feel good, to be consumed by this.

“Yours,” Mina’s whispering, voice cracking around the edges, “All yours.”

And you know it. Have known it. Had it signed and sealed in ink since the very first time she told you. When you made her knees buckle and eyes water as you took her in every way possible. Since she called out for you, said your name into the quiet of the night like it was a secret she never wanted to keep.

Yet it’s hearing it now, the sum of all these moments stacked on top of each other; the haunts that you’d frequent, the private corners that you’d made yours, the endless phone calls and messages and photos that could fill entire warehouses with their filth.

Finally here—both of you, panting, sweating, sex thick in the air. The world outside forgotten.

Fucking Mina so hard, so deep, euphoria shooting straight through you each time your cock bottoms out inside her. The softness of her cunt, its heat, its creaminess, its fucking divinity. Leaking out all around you and squeezing you so good that it’s a miracle that you’re still coherent enough to speak.

But you do, with a gruff, “Already knew that, darling.”

Mina’s laughing, because that’s the type of high you’re giving her. Even with the way you’re stretching her open, even with her eyes barely open and her toes curling into the bed—she’s laughing because it’s the only thing she can do. Because it’s all so absurdly perfect that she can’t find the energy to do anything else.

“All this, all of you,” you’re leaning in, at the base of her throat, licking a stripe up to her earlobe. Drumming the words into her skin, until she shivers. “Every part of you. All mine.”

Simple words that hold so much sway over her, that could pull her apart or build her right back up. Words that make Mina clench around you, make her cunt grasp you so tightly as if she’s trying to make them real.

“Always,” she’s heaving, “Always yours.”

And there’s this look on her face, like she’s lost in a dream—eyes glassy and all fogged up, breath hot against your shoulder. Glowing under the dimmed lights, making the sweat pooling at the base of her throat shimmer.

Keeping your hand there, at her neck, like it’s the only thing keeping her from floating away. Ruining her. Because really, it’s all for her. All of this is all for her pleasure, her satisfaction.

You’re just along for the ride, so fucking lucky to have her like this. So impossibly beautiful, just knowing she exists would drive you insane if you didn’t get to be with her. Didn’t get a chance at this pussy, so perfect, dripping so much, made so hot for you and only you. Your own personal slutty cunt.

It’s the way her legs wrap around your hips—the smoothness of her skin, the power in those thighs, holding you like she’s afraid you’ll pull away. Like she’s terrified you’ll leave her like this, frantic and wretched and so, so fucking wet.

The newest picture you’re painting, your magnum opus in her name—her tits bouncing with each thrust, nipples stiff and flicking in the air. The yielding of her back, bending just so she can accommodate that extra length of you inside her. And her stomach—fuck, those abs. Tightening and loosening, shaking with every hit of your hips, with every sharp gasp of air.

Demanding of you. Cum for me. Please. Now.

“I need this. Exactly this from now on,” Mina’s declaring, stuttering it like you’re fucking every syllable out of her tightness. “Just you fucking me. Whenever we’re together, every second we get alone—fuck—"

And you’re nodding because you’re always right there with her, always on the same wavelength, thinking the exact same fucking thing.

“Keep filing me up until I can’t take it anymore. Until I’m screaming so loud, I can’t even hear myself think—”

Breathless words that flood your ears, that Mina needs to get out, needs to make sure you hear. Absorbed straight into your bloodstream, pumping into your cock, fed right back into her cunt. So fucking tight. So downright incredible that you’re speeding up, driving in deep, as deep as you could possibly go.

“Until I’m so full of you that I forget my own name—forget any other name but yours—until I—until I—”

A nasty hit makes her body curve and rise, makes her pussy clamp around you, in warning of the orgasm to come, the one you’re both hurtling towards with a kind of reckless abandon that’s become second nature.

“Until I—please—just always make me feel this way—”

“You will,” you promise, meaning it, fucking it into her like your life depends on it. Like you need it to survive, because maybe you do. Maybe you’ve never truly lived until you’ve felt Mina’s cunt quiver around your cock like this, until you’ve heard her beg for you like you’re the only thing she needs to breathe. And again, for good measure, “you will."

And oh, that’s all it takes. That’s enough to have Mina spilling.

“Cumming,” is her proclamation. Repeated, ad infinitum, just, “Cumming, cumming, cumming.”

All over your cock, all around your cock. Cunt strangling you with the force of it.

And this is where you decide Mina’s most beautiful.

When she’s consumed by climax, when she’s held prisoner by it, when she’s just nothing but a canvas for you to leave your marks all over.

“Feel so good—so fucking good—”

It’s the best kind of challenge, pushing her through it.

Worshipping her in all the ways that count, treating Mina in ways woman like her should never be treated. Tearing an angel down from the heavens just to hammer her cunt into submission, and being thanked for it afterwards.

“God,” Mina’s trying, voice rasping and broken, “I—fuck—I can’t—”

You take her, hand wrapping around her tits, pinching, rolling, teasing nipples until they’re as tight as her cunt around you. Leaning in and capturing her lips, drinking down her whimpers with a kiss so deep you can taste your name on her tongue.

Fucking her, ruining that tight, little pussy, through every wave that crashes down over her, that burns her up from the inside and makes her so Goddamn hot.

Leaving her in disbelief that it could ever feel this good again, that there's a light at the end of this tunnel, that there's a life after being fucked so thoroughly by your cock.

Holding her through it, preventing her from crumbling into a million overstimulated pieces. Slowing down the pace of your hips with steady, deliberate thrusts until you’re just inside her. Cock throbbing, bathing in her heat, waiting.

Mina stirs, eyes flutter open, meeting yours. “Cum inside me. Wherever you’d like.”

There’s only one real choice. Mina knows this as well as you do.

Your cock leaves her cunt, slick with her juices, her cum. Proof of your dominion over her body, gleaming along your shaft.

Nothing but bliss on Mina’s face, so well-fucked and satisfied and just plain happy that it’s almost a surprise she hasn’t melted away into a puddle. She’s smiling, looking up at you through her lashes, sweet and soft and perfect.

Turning herself over, bowing down on her knees, pointing her ass up at you like it’s the universe itself handing you a present and saying, ‘Here, this is yours.’

You can’t resist that kind of temptation.

“I’ve been waiting for this,” Mina tells you, rolling her hips higher still, flaring out her hips, treating you to the perfectly round globes of her ass. “Waiting for you to take me. However you want. Make it hurt so good. Make me remember how you feel.”

Her hands reach back, delicate fingers spreading plump cheeks apart. The tight, pink ring of her ass winking at you. A sight that never gets old, a vision that’s forever carved into the back of your eyeballs.

One last request. “Please.”

Your cock pushes in.

“Thank you.”

Right away, it’s too fucking much. Your cock breaching through her asshole, pushing in inch by inch. Slow and torturous, the kind of thing that makes you want to yell.

Then the first thrust—that first hit, like a narcotic, straight through your veins, every single time. Feeling it, sensations so intense, so sharp, that you forget to even breathe.

And Mina’s crying. Crying out, muffled by the pillow she’s biting into. Yet still, pushing back against you, urging you deeper, even though she’s coming apart, even though she’s shaking from the sheer effort of having you fill her.

“Darling,” you call to her, “you’re doing so good,” because she is. Good, good, so fucking good for letting you split her in two like this. For letting you ruin her in all the best ways.

The second thrust is easier, smoother. Body giving in to your demands, stretching around your cock like it always does, like it’s made to do. To bend and flex to your whims and desires.

With every push, every retreat, every agonisingly, achingly slow grind into her ass, you’re nearing that rapturous end.

“So fucking good for me, Mina. Your ass is so tight around me. Such a good girl.” You’re grunting now, trying to ease her into it, to build up to the point where you can pound her, push her like you really want to.

Mina’s nodding, eyes screwed shut, sunken in the way you’re stretching her out. It’s a familiar feeling, having her ass opening up for you. A dance you’ve performed so often it’s almost muscle memory—each step painstakingly learned; each move carefully choreographed.

You’re easing into her, slow, so fucking slow that it’s a wonder that either of you doesn’t implode with want. But Mina’s good, so good, letting out these tiny, shuddering breaths that you feel down to the marrow of your bones.

And then, as your is fully seated in her ass—

“Don’t hold back,” Mina says, quietly, barely audible, but the need is crystal clear. “All of it, please.”

Hand in her hair, hand at her waist. Gripping into her, guiding her and then fucking her, really, truly flooding her ass with your cock, disappearing into her tightness until your hips are slapping into hers.

So pretty, even like this, even when her moans are getting louder, borderline screams that are cut off by the cotton of the pillow, her knuckles turning white in the effort. Her back tenses, muscles rippling underneath your palms.

She dips a hand underneath her, between her legs. Fingers at her cunt, whirling around her clit, doing all she can to keep up with you.

“Feels fucking amazing. Your ass, Mina,” you’re trying to say, but it’s coming out all gravelly and thick. “So fucking tight for me.”

It’s the one through-line that’s kept steady over these months. Mina’s transcendental beauty, Mina’s razor-sharp intelligence, Mina’s pussy that’s always, perpetually yours. All these things; but it’s Mina’s ass—that perfect, juicy, heart-shaped, fucking flawless ass that keeps you up at night.

Every time you’re buried inside, it’s like coming home to something sacred. Tightness gripping you, ass swallowing your cock in waves, the kind of feeling that makes you believe in a higher power—because nothing so divine could possibly be man-made.

“Fuck, I just—” Mina’s breathing out, quick huffs because that’s all she can manage, “just love this so fucking much. Love how you feel in my fucking ass.”

Her hand’s working overtime now, circling her clit with a fervour that’s almost religious. Pussy starting to leak again, juices running down her thighs, mixing with the sweat, pooling at her knees. Fuck, the way she’s touching herself while taking you in, so willingly, so wantonly, so utterly destroyed for you—she’s going to cum again, you can feel it. And you’re not far behind.

“I think I’m going to—fuck, I only just—but I’m going to—again—you’re going to make me—again—” She’s squealing, half-mumbling, full-crying, and your heart nearly bursts out of your chest because it’s all for you.  

You’re not even managing anything other than desperate thrusts, just fucking her with everything you have—like you’re trying to claim her inside and out, trying to leave your fingerprints on every part of her so everyone will know she’s been yours all along.

“Please, please, please,” again and again, stuttering out, “Just—just—just—”

Just keep going, keep pushing into her until she’s shaking, until she’s pleading for you to stop, to let her breathe, because she’s about to fucking break.

Or, really:

Keep going and never, ever stop.

The hand in her hair tightens, pulling her back, making her arch. That perfect spine, the curve that’s painted by God himself. Kisses into her shoulder, into the crook of her neck, making her whimper.

“Keep fucking me. Like this—like this—God—I’m going to—again—”

Pulling her closer to you, so you can feel the tremors starting from her core, spreading out like wildfire. Pushing her hand away, taking over between her legs—rubbing, teasing, circling her cunt and pushing her closer and closer to the brink. Fucking her so deeply that you can feel the first quivers of her orgasm from the inside out, daring to take over her body again.

“Keep fucking—touching me, fill me up—just don’t—please, I need it—”

A final plea, her last rites, before she’s lost.

“Cumming—cumming again—please, oh, please—oh—”

Mina’s body goes lax, a ragdoll in your arms. But you keep fucking her through it. Through the quakes and shivers, through the cries—through the crying out. Pleading. Pleading for you to follow her into oblivion.

And fuck. If you’re not right there with her.

You’re close, chasing her, feeling her orgasm, feeling it coil around your cock and pump through her veins and into yours. Feel her—her body, her muscles, her cunt—tightening, tightening, tightening around you until it’s unbearable.

“Cum for me—with me—” she’s repeating, her newest mantra, “cum inside me. Give it to me—please, I need it—please—so badly—”

Begging, dying for it. Willing, wanting to do anything for it.

But she doesn’t need to—you can’t fucking hold on any longer.

“Mina—fuck—"

You slam into her, and finally burst.

Filling her ass with your cum, feeling it spurt into her, thick and hot. Pumping into her, over and over, getting wrung dry by her ass, cumming so hard it feels like your bones might shatter.

Cumming until your vision swims, until the architecture in your knees threaten to give out, until all you can do is hold onto her hips and keep her in place, keep her right there, impaled on your cock, until every single drop of cum has found a home inside her ass.

Until you’re so sensitive it’s almost painful. Until the orgasm has passed over the two of you and left you feeling like you might dissolve into nothing but pure sensation.

“Christ,” you manage to get out, the word tearing out of you like it’s being ripped from your chest. Holding Mina close—embracing her, seeing just how much she’s loving it. How thankful she is. Taking it all, soaking it all in, moans turning into whimpers that you’d swear are prayers of gratitude.

Body limp and strung out, fucked so hard she can’t even hold herself up anymore—Mina collapses into the bed, pulling you with her, your cock still buried deep inside her.

Like the first time, like every time, it’s a complete fucking disaster.

Tangled up in sheets, in each other. Sticky with sweat, stickier with cum. And Mina turns her head to look at you, just so pleased, and so gleefully satisfied.

You lean in and kiss her, slow and deep, resisting the urge to stir, to roll her onto her back and start this whole thing over again. Claim her once, twice, a dozen times more.

But you don’t. You just lay there, breathing into her neck, letting all of this, your orgasms, your bliss, your absolute contentment roll through you.

There’ll be time to keep going, to keep fucking her. Give her the same tour of your house that she gave you that first night.

Eat her out in the kitchen. Fuck her into the sofa. And yeah, introduce her to the balconies on the higher floors.

For now though, there’s Mina, lips parting with yours, looking at you with a smile that’s this original blend of lust and love and admiration. “You really know how to ruin a girl, you know that?”

You chuckle, picking a stray strand of hair out of her eyes. “Just trying to scratch an itch.”

—

Everybody loves a love story.

And yours is packaged up so nicely, polished and made shiny and perfect for the public to see.

It's the type of story the media dies for—a tale of modern romance, woven through the glitz and glamour of celebrity life. The cold-blooded billionaire who had his heart stolen by one of the nation’s daughters, and then chased her across continents in order to get it back.

You and Mina, becoming the ultimate power couple—the kind that makes the paparazzi's cameras click in unison and tabloids sell by the millions.

Together at every high-profile event, her hand nestled in the crook of your arm, your thumb tracing lazy circles on her wrist—a secret promise of the bruises she’ll wear under her designer dresses. A whispered reminder of the things you’ll do to her when the lights go out and the world isn’t watching.

But nobody sees that. The public sees the smiles, the kisses, the sweet little glances that pass between you—and they eat it all up.

They'll never see the way she begs for your cock, the way you fuck her until she can't walk straight, the way she rides you until all you know is her name. They don’t know that it wasn’t love at first sight—it was lust, paroxysms of it, pure and raw and unbridled.

But here you are.

Mina, in your bathroom, smiling at you through the mirror. Dressed to the nines, looking like a fucking dream. Making it so obvious now that you wonder how you missed it at the start. The way she looked at you that first night, the way she looked. It was all there, laid out in big bold letters, all caps, telling you that this is what you’ve been searching for—what you needed all along.

That dress she’s wearing—some dazzling shade of green. Olive? Celadon?

“Emerald,” she smiles, catching you staring. “It’s emerald, darling.”

You grin back. “Then it should match.”

Mina’s eyes flick to the box in your hand, curiosity piqued.

“Got you something.”

You hand her the box—a simple, muted green velvet, lacking any markers or logos to give away the contents. Ergo, it’s really fucking expensive.

She takes it out of your hands. Opens it, and her breath catches.

“It’s—” Mina whispers, lifting a necklace from the box. A simple, stunning piece. A thin diamond band with a solitary jade teardrop hanging from the center.

"Yours."

Mina holds it up against the light, seeing how it dances through the stone like it’s alive. When her eyes come back to yours, she’s beaming—a smile so wide it makes you wish you had your phone ready to snap a photo.

“Help a girl out, would you?” she says, turning her back to you, sweeping her hair over her bare shoulder.

You step forward, kissing the skin there, feeling the softness of her neck, the pulse of her vein. Your hands come up to fasten the necklace around her, the coldness of the diamonds brushing against your knuckles.

“You know, there’s one thing I was wondering about,” you murmur, letting the jade rest atop her throat.

Mina giggles, tilts her head slightly to the side. The jewels sparkle. “Oh?”

“That first night. The gala. You came alone.”

“I did.”

“Why?”

“Why?” Mina repeats, amused. Happy to have her own little secret, the one thing you've yet to pry out of her between the sheets. She regards you through the reflection, a twinkle in her eye that says she’s been wondering what took you so long to ask.

“Yeah, I’ve never quite figured it out. I mean I know why you were alone. But why did you come at all? What were you doing there, just sitting all pretty and by yourself. It felt so wrong to me at the time.”

That makes Mina laugh, making you feel somewhat silly to even ask. She spins on her heels, facing you; the necklace sitting perfectly against her skin. She runs her fingers over the chain, ending at the pendant. Tapping it. Once. Twice.

And she doesn’t even need to ask you if it looks good on her or if it suits her because she knows. She can tell by the look on your face.

She wears it like a fucking collar.

“Why?” Mina says again, stretching the syllable out long and wide, until you’re staring at her lips, knowing you’re about to kiss her again, knowing that you may very well not make it out of the house tonight, likely not even make it out of the bathroom.

You’ll be ruining that dress, fucking her against the sink, pushing her up into the mirror, kissing into the top of her spine and repeating over and over again—mine, mine, mine.

“Because you invited me.”

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

So I'm putting together an In Defence of Cassie PowerPoint for a PowerPoint night with friends. Do you have any arguments for or against her? I trust your opinion and am curious.

Let's see.

"She's too powerful, too unique, too far-seeing, and not good enough for Jake! What a Mary Sue!"

Counterpoint: May I introduce you to the reigning champion fan favorite, Sad White Boy Tobias?

Only nothlit ever to regain the ability to morph

Only known human-andalite hybrid ever to exist

Regarded as savior by entire hork-bajir species

Entire existence is a time paradox the war hinges upon

Pulls the canonically "most beautiful girl in our grade", who turns down 6 or 7 other offers in favor of Bird Boy

Correctly predicted planetary ecology 65 million years in advance

Believed to be immune to 2-hour limit

In conclusion: y'all wouldn't be crying "Mary Sue" if Cassie was a sad white boy, and I can prove it.

"She's too weak and hand-wringing, and she never helps the war effort!"

Counterpoint: First of all, the fact that the same people say this in the same breath as "she's too powerful" is... telling. Secondly:

She saved the entire team's lives in #24, in #29, in #44, and in MM1, among others.

Specifically calling out #44 — that ending shows she is willing and able to be ruthless when her friends are in need. She doesn't like slaughtering human-controllers, but if the alternative is everyone she loves dying, then she'll fucking well do it.

Much like Jake (see: Sad White Boy), she's more willing to risk herself than her friends, hence the end of MM1

Her medical knowledge saves Marco from rabies, Ax from brain!appendicitis, and Tobias from bird flu.

Her survivalist knowledge saves everyone in #25 (the Arctic), MM2 (Cretaceous Era), #11 (rainforest), and #14 (desert).

In conclusion: Cassie's only idealistic-looking by the standards of this extremely morally gray team.

"She's so unfair to Jake!"

Counterpoint: Jake? The Jake who refused to speak with her for weeks? Jake who proposes marriage while they're still broken up? Jake who announces he'll never trust Cassie again because she [checks notes] saved his brother's life? That Jake?

Also:

She gives him tons of emotional support in #16, #21, #47, and other times he's feeling low.

They have a healthy argument where they air differences and come to an understanding in #9.

Did I mention he doesn't just dump her but ghosts her in the middle of the war's endgame?

They're teenagers. Their relationship isn't perfect, but it is built on open communication and mutual respect which is more than Rachel and Tobias can say

She's fighting a war, and PTSD for that matter. No, she doesn't have infinite emotional bandwidth.

In conclusion: Their relationship is fine, their breakup is mutual, and her behavior only looks bad if, once again, you're holding Cassie to a different standard than you are Jake.

"She shouldn't have trusted Aftran!"

Counterpoint: friendly reminder that the alternative was killing a 6-year-old for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. If that's what you think Cassie should've done, that tells us more about you than about her.

"She spends too much time moralizing!"

Counterpoint: this is a book series about war, not a friggin' video game. If you want moral pornography, go play Call of Duty. If you want sci fi realism, then you're going to have to accept that a majority of humans prefer not to kill their fellow humans if at all possible.

"She's a ripoff of [insert character here]!"

Counterpoint: literally every single one of these says more about the commenter than about the source work. "Every dystopia is set in the U.S." is the kind of thing only people who only read books by American authors would think. "All epic fantasy is Eurocentric" => tell me you only read books by white people without telling me. I'm glad you think Cassie is too similar to Willow Rosenberg, but there are at least 6 other stories in the known world, and I hear some of them even feature sweet/dorky/caring characters who are secretly ultra-powerful.

In conclusion: You don't have to like Cassie as a (fictional) person, but 85% of criticisms directed at her are bad-faith attacks on one of the 1990s' only fat Black female gnc ultra-powerful superheroes.

[14dayswithyou]

How cutiesai made 14 Days With You

I've received quite a few requests in the past asking how I made 14DWY, what resources I used, how I organised my lore, etc. — so I figured I'd make one big post and share it with everyone else as well! It features a buuunch of helpful stuff I wish I'd known when I first made 14DWY, so hopefully this will help others too!

⚠ This is all copied & pasted from a Discord post I made back in early 2024! I'll also be adding to it over time, so feel free to check back every so often! ^^

What engine do I use?

14DWY uses the Ren'Py engine!

There are two preinstalled games (called "Tutorial" and "The Question") that give you a basic rundown on how to use the program!!

Zeil Learning's video called "Ren'py Tutorial For Beginners" is also a good place to start for those who have no idea where to begin with Ren'Py!

I also really recommend these Ren'Py resources:

Lemma Soft Forums

Ren'Py Discord server

Ren'Py subreddit

Zeil Learnings, ElaineDoesCoding, Visual Novel Design, and Ess Ren'Py Tutorials on YouTube

Searching through the "Ren'Py" tag on itch.io for community-made assets and resources (make sure to give credit if you use someone's asset(s))!

Feniks and Wattson offer some really helpful stuff!!

Not Ren'Py related, but helpful for creating a VN:

Obsidian and Notion for planning and worldbuilding

Visual Studio Code and Atom (comes preinstalled with Ren'Py iirc?) for scripting/coding

Pixabay and Pexels for royalty-free images and stock photos

DOVA-SYNDROME for music

Clip Studio Paint (paid) and Krita (free) for drawing

Toyhou.se to store your littol guys (If you need an invite code, I have over 300 to give away lmao ^^ Send in an ask to @cutiesigh if you'd like one!)

An itch.io account to upload your game for free and share it with others

General tips to keep in mind:

Make games for fun, not for fame. Too often, I see new developers create VNs with "trending tropes" because they see how successful it is and want the same level of popularity. As harsh as it sounds, this only makes your game feel hollow and superficial, and players will notice.

When using Ren'Py, it's better to have multiple .rpy files rather than putting everything into one large file!! It makes organising and finding things easier, and if something gets corrupted... at least you won't lose everything!

Plan everything beforehand, but give yourself room to expand and implement new ideas.

Start small and slowly expand over time. Don't start off with an overly ambitious project, as it can be disheartening when you put all this effort into something just for it not to gain any traction. Also, be grateful for your earliest supporters, as they're the ones who will lift your project off the ground!!

This is a personal preference, but I recommend starting off with itch.io as your main distribution platform. Most storefronts take a cut from your donations and revenue, and sites like Steam require a $100 fee just to publish your game on their platform. Itch is free, and you can even toggle off revenue sharing in your profile settings! (I like to keep it at 10% though, because I'm grateful for everything the site provides ♡)

If you ever need help with Ren'Py, you're always welcome to join the 14DWY Discord server and ping me in the help channel!

[tapiocakisses]

keigo takami × reader | minors dni

tags : fluff, slight angst, love confessions, name reveal

warnings : implied sexual content

"I'm done in the bathroom." You announced, walking into the bedroom in some of Hawks' spare clothes. He says they're his clothes, but you know he got them for you. They didn't have the holes in the back for his wings, and they weren't his exact size. You've been at his apartment a lot over the past several months – it's been nearly a year doing this with Hawks. "You have some spare clothes in the basket there." You gestured to the door and picked up the discarded clothes. You threw your dirty clothes in the hamper next to the bedroom door. He'd wash them for you tomorrow.

Hawks didn't say anything, but he watched you clean up everything. As he stared, there was a certain feeling in the air, but you couldn't put your finger on it.

You turned to the hero and frowned slightly. "Hawks?" You asked, walking over to him and gently touching his cheek. "You okay?"

Seemingly snapping out of a trance, Hawks nodded quickly. "Yeah." He gave you a weak smile. "I'm fine. I'll get cleaned up in the bathroom." You nod and drop your hand from his face, watching him with slightly furrowed brows. The hero gave you a reassuring smile, but it seemed a bit tight. He looked distracted.

Hawks got up from his spot on the bed, feeling the blanket fall off his waist and reveal his naked form. He felt his face redden some as he grabbed the blanket to cover himself. You let out a small chuckle as you used the smaller towel in your other hand to dry yourself off and stepped out of his way. "Go ahead. Don't take too long, okay?"

Hawks nodded, the blush still prominent on his face as he practically scurried to the bathroom. You laughed to yourself at the sight, finding it cute. His serious demeanor in battle and carefree attitude with fans and the public were very different from these moments. Haws seemed more authentic and his real self. It didn’t feel forced.

It was a comforting thought.

Half an hour later, Hawks climbed back into the bed with you, laying on his side to face you. You were on your stomach, scrolling through some videos. You looked up from your screen as you saw the hero lying beside you. A red wing draped over your body as he slid further into the bed. The feathers were soft but also a little sharp around the edges. Almost the opposite of Hawks. He had more rough edges than he let on. Like a piece of broken Plexiglas. He doesn't do much damage, but he can hurt you if you're not careful.

Hawks is the type you handle with care.

"How are you feeling?" You ask, voice airy and quiet as your fingers brushed through Hawks' feathers. The tips of your fingers played with the base of some of the smaller ones. A shiver made its way through Hawks' body, feeling your comforting touch on his wings. "Comfortable… and satiated, I think." Hawks let out a light laugh.

This one was very different from him usual laughs. Those were loud and casual. This seemed genuine and softer. Hawks had a gentle air about him in these moments. When the doors and windows were closed, the room was dark, and he was in bed with his favorite person - you.

It was comforting being with you. He knew he had so many secrets he couldn't dare share without putting everything (you) at risk. He loves the peace you give him. He loves how you make him feel. You're pure, divine love. You look at him without shame or anger. You're stronger than he could ever be. You've captured his heart and his soul. He loves you more than he'll ever love himself.

Hawks stared at you silently, allowing you to feel over each feather. It was comforting to have someone touching him so tenderly. It was like you loved him.

"I never expected this," you whisper as you're raking your fingers through his feathers. "You know that I'd be sleeping with the Hawks."

"Keigo."

"What?"

"My name. It's Keigo… Keigo Takami."

You stare at Hawks - no, Keigo - for a while, unsure of what to say.

"Wh - What? Hawks -"

"Keigo." He corrects, grabbing your hand in his. "Call me Keigo. Please." He practically begs. "I need to hear it."

After staring into Keigo's eyes for a few moments, you oblige him. "Okay, Keigo." His name feels heavy on your tongue, but it felt so natural to say. You could see the way the tension left his body. He looked vulnerable and almost scared.

"Keigo." You repeat, pulling your hand from his wing to touch his face. Keigo leaned into your touch and sighed, visibly relieved. He looked up at you with his cute, doey eyed expression. "Why did you tell me your name?" You question.

Keigo only shrugged. "Because I love you." He confessed. He said it like it was the most normal thing in the world — falling in love with the person he swore he wouldn't.

"Keigo…" you said slowly, pulling your hand from his cheek - not missing his small pout - and began sitting up. You put your hands in your lap. "I thought we agreed not to fall in love…" You paused to look at him. "This is just sex… right?"

Keigo shook his head and sat up. "Not anymore. I love you, [Name]." He repeated himself. He reached a hand out to touch your shoulder, only to stop it an inch or so away. "Do you… not love me?"

You frowned at the pain - the desperation - in his voice. You finally face him, that same pleading look in his eyes. You stared back at Keigo, lips parted slightly as you tried to force the words out your mouth.

"Of course I love you." You whisper. "I just…" You bit the inside of your cheek. "I don't know." You sigh. "I didn't want to lose this." You gestured between your bodies. "You've seen parts of myself I haven't shown anyone ever. I don't know what I'd do if I lost this… security."

A smile tugged at Keigo's lips as he took his turn holding your face in his hands. "It's like for me too." He whispered. "You're my first everything, [Name]. You're the first person I've loved and I want you to know that. I want this to be more than sex, more than casual…"

Keigo grabbed your hand into his and kissed the back of it. "I want to be yours." He looked up at you through his eyelashes, his smile growing. He looked like such a dork like that.

A sweet, romantic dork.

"Are you sure? What about everything we wanted to avoid? The press, crazed fans…" You frown, the worry digging into you. You had an agreement. Throwing caution to the wind seemed like a bad idea.

But to be with Hawks? To be with Keigo? The man who just shared a sacred part of himself with you? You'd take that chance.

"We'll figure it out, [Name]." Keigo whispered, lowering your joined hands and leaning in slightly. "You're smart and I'm optimistic." He tilted his head as a lopsided smile pulled at his lips. "We're a powerhouse, dove."

A short laugh escapes your lips. "A powerhouse, huh?" You raise an eyebrow and lightly bonk your forehead on his. Keigo pouted before nodding. "Yes."

"I guess that wouldn't be too bad." You agree.

"It'll be amazing, my dove." Keigo promised, leaning in to finally kiss you as your boyfriend.

Your boyfriend.

Your Keigo.

[love-byers]

st4 music coding: yearning and miscommunication (& lumax/byler parallel)

alright here we go

this will be long so strap in

(yes this is the post i've been hyping up for like 3 days lol)

there's a song that i noticed plays twice in season 4, in two very similar scenes, and a third that ill talk about later. the first is lucas looking at the hellfire club celebrate, and the second is will looking at mike and el skate ahead of him. i've drawn a few interesting parallels here that i think really strengthen byler endgame. please watch the video above in tandem with reading the post

first of all the obvious: lucas and will are both yearning to be with what/who they're looking at. lucas wanted to be there for the end of the campaign. he asked them to move it, not cancel it. he wanted to be there because he likes being in the club and he loves his friends. and we all know will byers is devastatingly in love with mike wheeler, so that speaks for itself. lucas and will are both feeling rejected, forgotten, unneeded, replaced. they are also both looking at their sibling taking their place. erica took lucas' place in hellfire, and el has taken will's place at mike's side. mike and el were attached at the hip the whole day, and that used to be mike and will. will knew mike long before el did, and before they started dating mike and will were a firm duo. mike and el were heavy on the PDA that day, but mike used to be affectionate towards will too, putting his arm around him, holding his hand, sticking close to him, laying his head on his chest, hugging him, etc etc. now mike can't even hug him. and there's a special sting about your sibling of all people replacing you, and seeing your friends (or crush in will's case) having a great time without you, with the better version of you, not needing you, not even thinking of you. and right there, ladies and gentleman, is where will and lucas are wrong. sure, the hellfire club were happy with erica and about the fact that they won, but they wanted lucas there. the whole reason mike and dustin were upset in the first place was because lucas was choosing the basketball team over them. they accepted that lucas had "gone to the dark side" and went on to find his replacement. they feel like lucas doesn't need them anymore, that he's replaced them with the jocks. and little do they know, that is not true. lucas misses them and yearns to be over there celebrating with them. and though it doesn't seem like it in that moment (lucas' point of view), they miss him and want him there too. they are miscommunicating. the same is going on with mike and will. will feels rejected, ignored, replaced. he thinks mike has basically forgotten he was there. he thinks mike couldn't give half a shit about him. he thinks mike doesn't need him. he will soon find out that that could not be farther from the truth. mike was HOT AND FUCKING BOTHERED. he felt rejected by will. he felt like will was purposefully pulling away. he felt ignored. he felt replaced by will's non-existent friends and maybe even a girl will liked. he felt like will didn't need him anymore, that will was doing great without him. he felt like he had lost will. he, like the hellfire club, accepted (or attempted to accept) that they weren't wanted or needed and leaned heavy into filling that void. (meanwhile lucas' replacement wasn't sufficing, and will didn't even have one). and little does mike know, that is all wrong. he missed will just as much as will missed him. he'd been watching will all day hoping will would talk to him. meanwhile will thinks mike has looked at him like...twice, and so does the audience, because we got will's pov first. this is why the rink o mania fight is so all over the place and dramatic, they're basically running smack dab into each other at full speed. they're both confused because the other suddenly cares about their relationship, and they're both hurt. they are miscommunicating. the hellfire club enjoyed having erica there, but she's not lucas. mike enjoyed hanging out with el, but she's just not will. meanwhile , lucas' replacement for hellfire wasn't sufficing, and will never tried to replace mike at all.

onto more specifc and visual parallels: lucas, el, will, and mike all fake smiles. i really want to stress el and mike, because not a lot of people realize that shot is about both of them. mike is faking a smile too. mike is upset too. mike is trying to appear happy and satisfied too. like y'all please cut my son some slack he was having a BAD DAY. his whole day was shitty too just have some empathy. if you really pay attention, you'll see that mike and el are doing the exact same things in tandem. mike sighs, el sighs. mike fakes a smile, el fakes a smile. mike's smile falls, el's smile falls. they're both trying to conform, trying to pass of lies as reality. "I try to laugh about it, cover it all up with lies... I try to laugh about it, hiding the tears in my eyes..."

now lastly: the scene of max listening to the radio call of the game. this falls right in line with the themes of the other scenes. she feels like lucas is doing great without her, like she's not needed. his life is just getting better and better and hers is getting worse. but she's got it all wrong too. she turns it off when the radio guy says "He must be feeling on top of the world right now". he was not. he was feeling shitty and missing his friends. he was missing max desperately, all the time. and he felt rejected by max, like she was steadily pulling away from him. and unlike the others where the distancing happens because of the miscommunication, max and lucas' happened because max distanced herself, and she was not there to see how lucas was really feeling, which was shitty. and yall already know im byler brainrotted as fuck so its extremely important to me that both times this track is used there is romance involved. in the ep 1 scene the song specifically trails into max's scene, roping her into this coding. mike and will are once again paralleled to a canon, requited, well written couple.

i don't really have any closing thoughts

actually here i have one: lucas and will parallels are the reason i wake up and breathe every day

and another actually

at this point to anyone who truly thinks mlvn are getting married:

and byler endgame but wbk

[theonly-agere-bunn13]

🎒 - paci for sure! A cute sippy-like bottle (the adult sippy cups that you take with you to the gym), a mask to hide the paci :3 one of my favorite stuffies, maybe some coloring pages and crayons or colored pencils or markers, some fidget toys, and smth like chap stick or lip gloss

🪼 - SPERM WHALE!!! I think they're so stupid cool and big and how deep they can dive is incredible and like so impressive especially for an animal like that big? With all that water pressure? SHEESH

🦑 - i do not like looking at myself in mirrors when im regressed .. it really puts me out of it and makes me feel really insecure about my little space bca i physically feel and imagine myself as so small but then i see myself looking normal and like my normal age and it gives me anxiety wjabsj

🐡 - honestly .. i don't think i have an "exotic" hobby. I can't think of this one wjsbdj

🐟 - my aesthetic when im big is a mix of coquette and soft cottage core, so when im regressed its really just a more .. babyish version of that in a way? I feel like it's a lot more whimsical and imaginative when im regressed than when im not, and i like to think im a fairy when i regress :3

🐋 - they're pretty much the same both when im regressed and when im not. The typical bunnies, kittens, dogs/puppies, but when im regressed, i identify a lot more with raccoons and foxes ..

🦈 - im 50/50 .. my sister really loves sharks and i think the pictures and videos they send me are so silly and cute, they're like little water puppies :3 but then i see a video of a shark and blood and bleh ..

🦭 - i don't have a specific pattern or schedule .. it kinda just happens when my body feels it needs time to relax and my brain feels like it needs a factory reset. I'd say like once a week at the most .. if even that.

🦦 - I haveeee 3 stuffies :3 I have Crybaby, a pink bunny with a rattle that i got in the baby section of the Walmart, my bear King, who i found in my grandma's closet a couple years ago, and then Kitty :3 my hello kitty squishmallow stuffie .. i want more tho

🌿 - PINK!!! Specifically pastel baby-pink and like a light coral pink .. i really love the light baby pink when im regressed, and the coral pink for when im big. It's kinda how i differentiate myself from when im regressed VS when im big. If my favorite color is baby pink, im feeling little, if it's coral, im feeling big

🐚 - i used to collect sea shells when we would go visit family down south more often .. but we stopped a few years ago and i lost my sea shell collection somewhere during a move :< I'd love to collect more things but idk what I'd want to collect specifically ..

🪷 - My bedroom :3 it has a lot of twinkle lights and soft warm lighting .. so i turn everything on when im feeling regressed and i tend to just stare at everything when im little. My bedroom is my main sage space <3

🌊 - this is gonna sound a little weird but we listen and we don't judge .. when im big i like to put lime flavored beer salt in my water BUT IT HAS TO BE LIKE ICE COLD otherwise I'll hate it. And when im little it's usually just milk or orange juice if im feeling like i want smth sweeter :3

🫧 - i don't knowww .. honestly i don't really have the ability to do much when im regressed. Really i just sit in my room on call with my boyfriend and babble and talk and stare at my bedroom lights while rocking back and forth. Although i do love sleeping and being all cozy .. i guess that could be counted as an activity :3

aquarium—themed regression ask game !!

not all of the questions are regression—oriented , but they’re still good get-to-know-me questions ^_^

[ ⭐️ ] it is appreciated that when you reblog this post , you send some questions from this post to whoever you reblogged it from ! /gen/nf

🎒 — what are the items in your ideal agere / caregiver bag or backpack ? how often would you have it with you ?

🪼 — favorites aquatic / semi—aquatic creature ?

🦑 — is there anything your especially scared of when regressed ? ( alt : is there anything you especially dislike when regressed ? )

🐡 — what’s your most “exotic” hobby or interest ?

🐟 — do you identity with a particular aesthetic when regressed that’s different than your big self ?

🐋 — favorite animal when big vs. regressed ?

🦈 — thoughts on sharkies ?? friend or foe ? cute or scary ?

🦭 — how often do you regress ? do you notice any patterns of when you regress like times or days of the week ?

🦦 — do you have or want to have plushies ? ( if you do , what are their names ? )

🌿 — what’s your favorite color ? ( be as specific as possible ! )

🐚 — do you like to collect things ? if so , what’s something you love to collect ?

🪷 — do you have a specific area you like to regress in , or that makes you feel safest ?

🌊 — favorite thing to drink when big vs. regressed ?

🫧 — what’s your favorite activity to do when regressed ?

[v4mpyinred]

ok this might be hella long, but I need to scream about some details about Makoto Yuki in Persona 3 Reload, because they're so missable so I feel like nobody else has noticed or cared about them other than me!!!!

Please someone hear me out 😭 (spoilers ahead)

One underrated thing about Reload, which is my favorite thing ever, is that we get to hear Makoto's thoughts when interacting with the world around him. Compare it to FES where the game's inner dialouge is in 2nd person, Makoto's inner dialouge in Reload is in first person.

I didn't give too much attention to a Makoto's thoughts in my 1st playthrough and I think it's what made me not as attached to Makoto as I would've liked in that playthrough. But god, in my 2nd playthrough, especially after watching the movies, all of that changed...

I noticed that Makoto's thoughts genuinely change as the game progresses. You see him start off as indifferent to everything, to cherishing the memories he's made with his friends.

For instance, take a look at his thoughts on the kitchen. I don't have a screenshot of this, but at first, he doesn't really care and just sees it as another tool. But as the game progresses...

This dialouge makes me swoon every time 😭💜

One of the biggest hidden details is Makoto's inner thoughts when you interact with the book on the dorm table. He has individual thoughts on the handwriting of each member of SEES as they join, which were delightful to read in my 2nd playthrough.

But what shocked me the most was after Shinji dies, if you interact with the book, then here are Makoto's inner thoughts:

That "..." doesn't show up if you interact with the book again. This was very intentional. And god, did that hit me extremely hard. In fact, if you interact with anything involving Shinji after he passes, you can really see how much Makoto respected him :((

Once January rolls around, Makoto's thoughts change to this sweet message 😭💜

Ngl I almost teared up when I saw this for the first time. Especially since it was my 2nd playthrough, and I was actually attached to Makoto this time + I knew what was up ahead :')

shit there's even dialouge if you go to the bathroom on the Promised day 😍

Don't even get me started on Makoto's inner dialouge on March 4th. Pretty much everything interactable is changed to fit the mood of how tired Makoto is, but also how much he's appreciated the year and the memories he's made.

Like when you interact with the kitchen, his inner dialouge about the kitchen changes once last time to this (credits to alanamisako):

This shit made me burst into tears so badly 😭😭😭 "I'll never forget those precious memories" FOUL atlus, FOUL!!! His thoughts on Shinji's room change on March 4th as well 🥲

Just seeing how much Makoto had grown throughout the game, and knowing what was to come, made this, and all the other March 4th dialouge, even harder to get through in my 2nd playthrough. It also resonated with me, because I too will never forget the precious memories I've made with this game...

Things like this make me appreciate Reload so much. Interacting with every little thing is my favorite pass time in video games that allow me to do it. I've probably wasted so much time in games doing this. But most game's interactables don't have this depth, and they certainly don't change at all, even as the game and protagonist develop. I also feel like nobody else takes the time to really interact with everything or see if there's anything else to see before they progress (trust me, if a game says go left, I'm always going to go right first), and it makes me sad that so much of this, and other details, go unnoticed. I've certainly heard "I've never noticed that" a lot when sharing these sorts of things with people 😭

Things like this really help flesh out the protagonist people call "bland". I really love silent protagonist and developing their personality based on their thoughts on the world around them. I also love worldbuilding and learning about other characters through it.

And I'm trying so hard to not let Makoto take Joker's place as my favorite protagonist (cuz the rest of SEES have already done that to the PTs LOL) but it's been getting harder these days. Makoto is just so perfect! I love his growth & seeing all of his inner thoughts and combining it with movie Makoto's AMAZING characterization (plz watch the p3 movies ya'll) just made me super attached to him!! I could scream about Makoto all day. He cares so much for his friends, and it's thanks to them that he's able to appreciate the life he didn't know he could have 🥲

So I highly encourage you to interact with everything when playing Reload! From NPCs, to random things that aren't the main objective (trying to leave when you're supposed to be fighting a full moon shadow leads to some funny dialouge for instance), etc etc.. especially as the game progresses. I mean, we all laughed at the 3 coffins in the Love Hotel, and there's so many other details and foreshadowing like that I can't even get into! It really immerses you and attaches you to the protag, but also makes the end of the game hit hard...That "my eyes feel heavy" got me horribly in my 2nd playthrough after keeping up with Makoto's thoughts the entire game HOO BOY!🥲

I also recommend you do this with other games as well. Video games have always been an experience over just a game to me. And I want to experience as much of the game as I can, even silly little things like this :)

[cartersblogabtnothing]

as a gamer (i play three games and one of them is roblox), i am inclined to believe that it is only me who can give headcanons on what games the batfamily would play:

alfred: card games, specifically poker. i think he'd also enjoy adventure rpgs if he was forced to play a video game.

bruce: he likes puzzle games, specifically enjoys block blast when he's somewhere he needs to have silent stimulation.

dick: he enjoys customization games, like the sims or maybe he'd like roleplaying games like episode. fun little things he can do to decompress after his double life.

jason: i'd like to say i think he'd enjoy shooter games (which he does, but only when he plays with a group or a friend) but i can't say that confidently enough, so i won't. i think he'd enjoy cooking games and weird little storyline games with so much romance it competes with most romance novels he reads.

tim: he would enjoy the freakiest games possible. danganronpa, crime scene cleaner, roblox (the weird games not even an ipad kid like jon would enjoy), undertale, sally face, and weird typhoons like grocery store simulator. he likes living lives he knows he can't through games he knows are weird and freaky.

damian: i think damian would pick up a lot of the same kinds of games his siblings enjoy, and i do think he'd enjoy strategy games as well. he plays roblox with jon at least once a week, so of course he also mildly enjoys that as well. its mindless stimulation that damian can enjoy without feeling guilty.

duke: dude would enjoy ALL types of games, but he specifically enjoys shooter games. cod, fortnite, overwatch, and apex legends. he loves yelling into the mic during matches and then going back to normal, even if he knows everyone else in the manor heard him. bro couldn't give a fuck less and occasionally yells even louder to annoy his family.

cassandra: she'd adore board games and arcade games. the old stuff, like space invaders or pac-man, battleship and clue. she likes to play this stuff rather than the digital things her siblings enjoy because they're less overstimulating but she still gets the boost of serotonin when playing. not to mention she also loves spending time with her siblings :)

[lanalosty0uu]

⋆.˚ chapter i: ahoy! ᝰ.ᐟ

🕰️ BACK TO THE FUTURE 🕰️

warning: slight cussing, time travel confusion.

main masterlist

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁༉‧₊˚.

The next day you wake up, you felt weird textures coming up to your nose. It felt like… dust. You woke yourself up by sneezing hard, first sneeze of the day. What else felt off? It was your room that was being quiet different… Scratch that, it was completely different from when you slept on last night. The room that Mrs. Byers made you sleep in for the rest of your exchange days, the once nice purple room with soft bed, now turned into a horrifying, messy, and filled with dust.

You unlocked your phone to look for any notifications

9.13 P.M. Friday, 27th June 2025 No new notifications

P.M? But the sun is literally shining outside? And Friday is yesterday... Today's supposed to be Saturday? Things are starting to feel off, so you stood up and went out of the house.

The once beautiful house seems to be... Abandoned, now. All glass are falling out of it's place, boards covering some of the window and doors. It looks like there's no one ever lived on this place. You kept looking around in confusion as you went out of the house, coughing like a sick maniac.

"What the hell?"

You started walking down the neigborhood, passing all these big houses along the way. This still looks like Hawkins, though... But, something feels different. Seeing all the people dress weirdly like they're in some kind of cosplay event.

As you kept walking, the town starts to get crowded. Looking at these people give you the creeps, but what actually gives you the chills are the fact that lots of people stare at you as you walk. You don't feel like you're dressing weird, you feel normal. Black T-shirt, baggy jeans, and red converse, with a dark red flannel, yet these people just can't take their eyes off your, like you just comitted some murder.

𓏲 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖⋆.ೃ࿔*:･✧˖°.

You saw a building in front of you.

STARCOURT MALL

A neon sign says above the mall's entrance. The neon signs was already lit up even though it was still... Probably like 10 or 11 A.M? You don't really know what time is it now, since the clock on your phone basically stopped at 9 at night.

The whole vibe of the mall felt off. It’s like… you’re in the backrooms… Might as well watch too much TikTok videos, you thought. But, you were actually convincing yourself that al this doesn’t seem right. It felt like a dream. Well, at least your phone’s clock stopping is a sign that you’re dreaming, it doesn’t make any sense, right?

The mall was filled with people and shoppers of all ages, it was like the mall was just opened a couple of days ago. You really want to ask the people here about where you are and why do these people dress weirdly.

scratch that.

You only want to ask about where you are right now. Even though this whole places does look like Hawkins, but it doesn’t feel like Hawkins. Sadly, your urge to ask the people around you isn’t strong enough, compared by how these people look like they’re enjoying their time at the mall. You don’t wanna be some party pooper who just ask random people a nonsense question and ruin their mood. Until finally, you found a not-so-busy ice cream store.

The yellow colored sign with blue background, that was surrounded by red light edges says

SCOOPS AHOY ice cream parlor

You saw a guy, leaning on the counter, as if he’s so done with his job. You decided to ask the guy about your question(s) earlier since he doesn’t look so busy.

“Ahoy, there! Would you like to set sail on this ocean of flavor with me? I’ll be your captain… I’m Steve Harrington.”

His sudden ice cream jingle scared the shit out of you, it made you widening your eyes at him.

“Hi, uhm… mind telling me where am i now?”

"You're in Scoops Ahoy Ice Cream Parlor, ma'am... How may I help you?" The man answered your stupid question with a bored tone. Geez, he must hate his job so much, huh?

"No, I mean... Where am I excatly now?"

The man in front of you squinted his eyes, like he's being suspicious with me.

"You're in Hawkins, Indiana. The United States of America." He responded once again, as if I have no idea where Hawkins is. So this is actually Hawkins? Indiana? Why so different?

You looked around the ice cream shop, leaving the man staring at you in confusion. You pay attention to every detail in it like some kind of detective trying to solve a murder mystery, even if you can still feel the man's eyes on you through your every move.

"Ma'am, are you okay? You need help with anything?"

"No, no... I'm fine, don't worry." Your voice says otherwise, though.

Your eyes finally stopped at the box shaped television on the counter, showing a news broadcast about the newly builded mall, this Starcourt Mall.

"...the year 1985 will surely be a memorable year for us, the people of Hawkins, getting a chance to witness and experience the beautiful Starcourt Mall..."

You felt like your head was spinning when you hear the words: 1985.

“Ma'am, are you sure you’re okay? or do i need to call a doctor?” His face is fully concerned of your well being right now. Instead of answering him, your eyes travelled from the television back to the man's direction.

“What year is it now?"

“it’s 1985? duh..?”

And that's the moment when you knew.

You are doomed.

note: finally, the first chapter's here! i really, reaaallyyyyy hope y'all like it! i'll make sure to post daily since i also need to catch up with some school stuff here. if there's any confusion about this whole time travel thingy (trust me, i was also pretty confused with my own thoughts) feel free to ask! and feel free to request to be on my taglist! happy reading <3

taglist: @xprloki @pupwrites @gorlillaglue25 @lovestrucklyuniverse

[ilikecrocssuckit]

BG3 Headcanons No One Asked For (ilikecrocssuckit edition)

Inspired by the wonderful series by @grenanigans

This episode: Each companion at the movie theater!

Astarion

Gets Hot Tamales candy or other cinnamon one just because it allows him to feel some semblance of warmth.

Pretends to like horror movies. Actually finds them deeply troubling and triggering but he'll be twice-damned if he shows that.

Chronic hater of every movie ever.

Gale

Rather disgusted by theater concessions. Still buys the biggest popcorn because he knows it's how they make money.

Seeks out the artiest and most pretentious films possible. Donates to the Baldur's Gate film festival and submits to it every year specifically to support such films.

Meticulously crafts his Letterboxd reviews after every screening.

Karlach

Wants to get a shushy but they always melt too fast so she never bothers anymore. Settles for popcorn, nachos, and 3 hot dogs.

Genuinely loves horror movies and finds Ghostface, Art the Clown, and Michael Myers attractive. Mostly though, she just loves being at the movies.

Cheers and laughs and generally reacts enthusiastically when the movie calls for it. She always cleans up after herself if she spills though.

Lae'zel

Rarely eats at the theater until she learns that they make money off of concessions, then follows Gale's lead because she finds the fact that they don't make money doing the thing they're designed for reprehensible.

Mostly just fascinated by the fact that movies exist and people put effort into creating them. Deeply interested in the filmmaking process and specifically looks for Blu-Rays with extensive behind the scenes features when she likes the movie. Treasures her Lord of the Rings Extended Editions for this reason.

Obsessively watches those "Expert Breaks Down Scenes From Movies and TV" videos because she wants to know where her favorite things succeed and fail so she can write letters to those responsible in the crew.

Shadowheart

Loves the Good & Plentys or other licorice candies. Doesn't like popcorn. Gets an obnoxiously large drink though and almost always beelines for the bathroom after the movie's over or sometimes during. Relies on Lae'zel to fill her in afterwards because Lae'zel won't speak during the movie itself. This has caused her to be confused about major plot points on multiple occasions.

Loves the horror movies that even make Karlach squirm. The really extreme horror ones that get like a one or two night release or get shown at the grindhouse that Orin frequents. Also has a soft spot for family dramas and romantic comedies but she'll never suggest them as something to go see.

Genuinely fails to see the point of theaters in the age of streaming [Editor's note: Yes, I do hate this about her.] Still goes because it makes Lae'zel happy.

Wyll

Buys a big slushie and puts it in Karlach’s cup holder. Gets a modest popcorn for himself.

Doesn't particularly have a lot of preference for what they watch. Usually just lets it all soak in. Has a penchant for swashbuckler epics though, and secretly keeps his eye out for rereleases of some of the classics. Sad there are hardly any made anymore.

Has the theater membership so everyone else can get cheaper tickets. Is happy to help his friends be more social and get out of the house.

Bonus

Halsin

Has a kink about sex in the back of the theater. Rarely gets to indulge. Sometimes goes to whatever the biggest R-rated bomb of the weekend is with his date so he can do so.

Jaheira

Exclusively sees children's and family movies with her wards and Minsc. Too busy otherwise. Maintains an encyclopedic knowledge of them regardless.

Made the mistake of thinking animation=kid-friendly only once.

Minsc

Only goes when Boo is excited for a movie or when asked by one of Jaheira's wards.

Boo loves to watch space sci-fi to laugh at the inaccurate aliens. Still appreciates practical effects of them though. Minsc just enjoys explosions and cool spaceships.

Wishes someone would make a movie about him. He would absolutely be banned from the set for being too nitpicky.

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

What do you think will come of the Sux PR visit to the wildfire support distribution area today? Will it help counter the negative view of them at all or will the public just see it as performative?

For me it's 100% a performative papwalk. A plandid, if you will. In the TMZ article another anon shared, they're photographed holding hands as they walk through the debris (TMZ points it out many times) and they've lowered their masks to speak/show their faces. Especially since it comes right after Sussex PR that they've opened their home to friends (earlier today) and were in danger of evacuating/losing power (yesterday).

Every other video I've seen of people looking through the debris or volunteering - if they have masks, they're wearing them. No one is pulling their masks or face coverings down because of how much ash and smoke pollutants there are. Even on TV interviews; everyone's keeping their masks on.

(And also you don't hold hands when you're walking through a debris field. You just don't, because you need your hands/arms free for your own balance. If you're standing still and surveying the damage, sure, hold your loved one and be grateful for your safety but not when you're walking through an active debris field.)

Whether it helps reset some of the public narrative, I don't know. I think it depends on your perspective of the Sussexes and/or what they do next.

But one thing is very clear about these photos: at least we can now finally confirm and verify that Harry is indeed in California and is with Meghan. This is the first time since September 15th (charity tennis tournament) and the "professional separation" that we've seen Harry and Meghan together in public.

(I do think this was very shocking for both of them, probably Harry more so than Meghan. By all accounts, Harry has led a very sheltered life and in places where natural disasters or extreme weather like this aren't typical. So the fact that Harry could stand in his yard and watch all this happening around him, so close that he could smell the smoke, see the fire, feel the heat when he's usually in a position of reading it in the news or being part of the 'comforter-in-chief' role, it was probably terrifying. He probably never expected to be a change in direction of the wind and a fire hose away from losing everything and I think - or, I hope - it gives him some new perspective. We'll see though. I feel like this could be his version of William's Grenfell Tower moment - allegedly William didn't understand the meaning or value in the monarchy's role is until he went to meet and comfort Grenfell survivors with The Queen.)

[sdmnpact]

˗ˏˋJealousyˎˊ˗

Wroetoshaw x Reader smut

**18+ MDNI**

~~~

You were laying on the couch at your boyfriend's flat watching videos on your laptop. He was in the kitchen making dinner for you two. A usual routine you guys follow, one cooks the other cleans afterwards. You two have built a cozy little life for yourselves. You find joy just being in each other's company, even if it means staying home most nights just cuddling on the couch. Sometimes you wish for a change of scenery and Harry makes sure to fill that desire by taking you to do fun activities in the city. You aren't usually an active person but sometimes you can't help but get a little jealous when Harry is out hiking, playing golf, or filming in some random country. He doesn't really take you out on those types of activities but you don't complain.

"Whatcha watching baby?" He asked as he came over and sat down, moving the pillow you were resting on so he can act as your headrest. You quickly get comfortable on his thigh as you readjusted yourself. You were just binging Joe Weller content, from his own videos to his features on the sidemen channel. You were quite enamored with him lately because of how much time he was spending with the boys. Something about his love for nature and his wild stories made you feel some type of way, creating a want, to learn more about him. You couldn't help but feel slightly attracted to him since he is so fit and adventurous.

**You're POV**

"Just some youtube videos..." I trailed off. Clicking on a different video. "Was that Joe Weller?" He asked partially joking partially serious. "Oh yeah." I awkwardly laughed. "Why are you acting weird?" He said tensing up. "I'm not, I'm fine."

"Seriously y/n! What is it!?"

"Okay, fine, I was watching him because he's interesting and does a ton of cool stuff! Is that wrong?" I said getting a bit defensive. "Well of course not unless you fancy him...." There was a long pause as silence filled the room. "Oh my God, you do fancy him!" He said getting up, leaving my head to plop on to the couch. "I mean, don't you fancy girls online!?"

To be fair, I've seen his Instagram feed and there are a couple onlyfans models he follows. I don't get upset about it because I know he loves me so I don't know why he's getting upset over this. "Well yeah, they're hot but I'm not subscribing to them and watching all their videos!" He semi shouted. There was a different look in his eye. A look of intense jealousy. "Listen Harry, it's just a couple of videos. It's not like I'm touching myself to them!" That line drove him over the edge. I could see the anger form in his eyes, like someone lit a fire.

"I'm sorry, what!?" He said getting a bit louder. " You want him to fuck you? Is that it!?" He said standing over me. "No, I want you to do it!" I said. Harry never and I mean NEVER gets angry like this. It was kind of hot. He was a bit taken back by my words but then I noticed another look in his eyes. Pure lust.

He grabbed my waist fiercely bringing me closer to him. I felt his hot breath on my face as he leaned down to my ear and with a deep musky voice said, "what'd you say?" It was over for me. I could just melt right now.

"I want you to fuck me." I said blatantly, running my fingers down his back putting my arms around his waist bringing it closer to mine. I felt him grow in his pants and I chuckled to myself. He wants it so bad. He pressed his lips against mine and I quickly melted into the kiss. He kissed me so sloppily and so rough like he was starving for more. I reach for his hair and ran my fingers though his blonde locks tugging at them slightly making him moan. I know pulling on his hair makes him go crazy. His hand explored my body feeling all my delicate areas making me shiver at his touch. He reached for my pants, unbuttoning them with one hand while the other hand held my waist. He unzipped them then threw me onto the couch with slight force but also in a way that still felt gentle.

He pulled off my pants and my underwear making sure to run his fingers slowly down my thighs and legs. I felt myself pulsating as he slowly caressed my inner thigh making me go wild. I looked down at him between my legs. His bright blue eyes and messy hair making him look so attractive. He brought his face closer to my throbbing heat holding onto my legs. He slowly kissed my inner thigh getting closer and closer to my heat with each kiss making my legs quiver. I gasped as I felt his wet tongue swirl on my lips. He looked up at me and I felt a smirk on his lips as he slipped his tongue inside. I gasped as I felt him enter. "Damn, you're soaking already?" he chuckled, the vibrations of his voice running through me like a jackhammer. He swirled his tongue inside my vulva knowing which spots make me feel good. My legs shaking as he kept exploring my walls.

I felt myself about to release when he stopped. "Wait darling-" He said quickly dropping his pants and boxers revealing his fully erect member. I smiled at the sight of him as he slowly slipped himself inside me making eye contact. He rocked his hips back and forth increasing his speed each time. He quickly grabbed my waist and spun us around so that he's sitting on the couch and I'm on his lap straddling him. His grip on my waist getting tighter and he bounced me up and down continuing to increase his speed making me feel electric. I grabbed onto his hair pulling harder than last time causing him to release a moan. Between my own soft moans I muttered, "I love your moans." only adding fuel to his desire to make me reach climax, increasing his pace even more.

With one hand, he cupped my face and kissed me roughly as I finally reached climax. I let out a loud moan as I released all over him, feeling him release into me seconds later. Nothing but our heavy breathing filling the room. We sat like that for a couple of seconds, catching our breaths. We looked at each other and smiled as I got off of him about to stand before he pulled me back on his lap. I rested my back on his chest, making our sticky, sweaty skin mold us together. He wrapped his arounds around my waist, kissing the back of my head, breathing heavy on my neck. "I love you, princess."

---

A/N

woo, steamy stuff... sorry about the pov change, this was suppose to be fluff but it turned into smut somehow, causing me to accidently changed the pov. I hope you enjoyed it!

[tubular-wave-jpg]

Non-political Female YouTubers!

Brattyxbre - zine making. She teaches how to make zines as well as shows off her own zines. Literally so nice and soothing, I love a lot of her works.

RetroGeek Crafts - toy restoration and customisation. Usually it is MLP toys but sometimes she does different toys like Polly Pocket but it is still amazing.

LeanBeefPatty - workout, she's really funny. My favourite work out of hers so far is probably the 10 min abs one.

Vewn - beautiful and unique animations. You cannot imagine how much I love Vewn. Her animation transports me into another dimension and despite them having dark themes, I find them comforting.

Okana Nanako - life blogger on Japanese. Usually she cooks and does small short sketches. She is obviously on Japanese but has english cc

Morenikejis vlog - Nigerian girl vlogging her life. She describes herself as an introvert and has videos of her going on about her daily life. They are extremely comforting and nice. She puts a lot of love in them.

Real horror - talking about horror and true crime. I have not watched much of her, but I really do recommend her stuff for true crime and mystery lovers

Rightchoiceshearing - two wives who have a shear company and take videos of their work. Mostly shorts, but they're still enjoyable. I love the stories they share about animals they shear, from llamas to sheep.

Cleancasual - video game icebergs, extremely detailed. I usually dislike icebergs because how some do not provide necessary information regarding information, but she has everything perfectly researched. My favourite so far are her Pokémon icebergs (obviously).

ElectraSoul - law of assumption and manifestation content. Ok this one is not for everyone but I really love her energy <3

Hyler - loa and manifestation again. and again not for everyone, but she has shorter vids compared to electra and I really like her content.

Undefined - tech related content. I think she has revived Frutiger aero from its deep sleep and introduced it to everyone including me. Her videos are also somewhat concentrated on design aspect of technology.

Namiのくらし - Japanese office lady living all alone and vlogging her life. She has a bit of asmr feel to her videos.

Caitlin Koi - Splatoon content, not for everyone but I love Splatoon so I am recommending her for all the ink blob fans here. Or squid I guess. She usually "translates" (interprets inkling gibberish) in official songs and makes music videos. She also streams. I have been watching her since 2019 cause I am a Splatoon freak...

Momo in Amsterdam - Japanese student in Amsterdam vlogging her life. She is very nice and even has videos on english. Usually they are about living in Netherlands and student life, as well as hanging out with friends.

Reignbot - horror and true crime, sometimes internet mysteries. Ok, I actually used to watch her a lot back when she had a regular posting schedule and it was amazing. She refrains from overly edgy stuff and presents topics in an interesting manner.

ASMR PPOMO - asmr channel. Ok not everyone's cup of tea, but she is amazing I think. I used to watch her and sort of dropped after a while, but she did help me deal with some stuff I had going on lol

Hwaufranc - asmr mostly related to journaling. I personally love journaling and her channel was a goldmine for such stuff tbh. I LOVED it.

Atrocity Guide - mysteries, horror, cults, crime you name it, she has it all. She makes extremely detailed videos about the situations and has nice narration style.

MOONLIT † Страшные истории † - this is for all of you who know Russian. Scary story channel where a woman narrates stories. Sometimes she does feature her husband (another horror narrator) during stories as a character, but it is not that often. Stories are usually Russian creepypastas or VK stories or those from Mrakopedia.

hopeful asmr - only recently found her, but she has asmr videos where she either does your makeup or has random language word triggers.

valoulette - another asmr channel (sorry), makes a lot of weird/creepy girl RP videos.

Gamer Grandma - self-explanatory, a Japanese 93-year-old grandma playing video games. She recently played Resident Evil Village! Recommended by a friend.

tibees - math youtuber, also discovered very recently. So far she has an entertaining content related to mathematics, recommend if you are a math freak (in a good way lol no offence)

Asinastra - Ukrainian woman who makes art videos. Usually they are on Russian/Ukrainian. I really loved her content when I was younger and found her art cute and endearing<3 her videos are always cozy and nice. Discovered in 2018 while trying to learn how to make stickers. She does have english cc tho!

maleeka, is my guardian angel - another manifestation related YouTuber, has soothing videos with good narration and visuals. Really nice to those who want to start manifesting. I even have posted her here multiple times!

hobbikats - a woman and her oriental short hair cats having fun! I really LOVE this breed and I love her kittens as well<3

Manifest It, Finesse It - another manifestattion channel, who explains things really well, helped me get through some bullshit I had irl, recommend her 100%

Amy Hewett - she is an animator at CalArts, her famous and my fave animation so far (Jan 2024) is Apocalypse YASSS, which I found out several months ago when she just uploaded it. Her style is reminiscent of Vewn but is still CLEARLY distinct

kylie boggly - so far one of my fave lost media and internet mystery YouTuber. While her schedule is not really consistent, it's usually quality over quantity.

lostpalette - another journaling YouTuber. She has a bunch of cute journaling videos, they are extremely aesthetically pleasing and her videos have asmr quality to them.

iCharly - self-improvement (hypocritical cause I complained about them... but she's different), fashion and vlogging. Has funny skits in her videos, recently discovered and recommended by a friend

현미야 Hyeonmiya - sorry (not sorry) for featuring another cozy journaling youtuber.

Mother The Mountain Farm - 2 sisters living in Australian rainforest in connection with nature. On the channel they document their travels, life in the nature and sometimes even paint! Recommended by @intothewings

vintweety - vewn's second channel, more concerned on short videos and some personal vlogs, it also has some of her early animations. Recommended by @pootypootytangtang69

ghosttundra - creator of the lacey series, a horror series about a lost video game whose main protagonist is a traumatised girl. Channel features animati0on related content but also some music too! Reccomended by @pootypootytangtang69

Kitten Lady - Recently discovered, she posts videos about taking care of kittens and rescuing them, she has her own foster home for cats and helps them find their forever home. Sometimes she features different animals.

ailaughatmyownjokes - comedic videos and gaming alongside some vlogs, recommended by @emofthewired

Tamara Michael - art youtuber, who mainly does doodles and watercolour. Some of her videos teach doodling and painting techniques for dealing with anxiety and stress, really lovely and cozy. Recommended by @emofthewired

wAmy - want some good advice on studying? She got you. Bunch of amazing productivity hacks on how to study effectively. Despite this she is honest about the studying methods and other related things. Recommended by @emofthewired

Leslie Stroz - watercolour youtuber, who specifically does small canvas paintings. She actually has been uploading for a rather long time (14 years as of time of writing!) and has even videos of her singing, travelling and tips of painting.

fayefilms - another productivity youtuber concentrated on helping students. It goes from getting better grades, effective note making and avoiding burnout. Recommended by @emofthewired

Tiff In Tech - recently discovered tech youtuber, makes videos about learning skills in tech, AI, jobs in tech and more. I haven't seen much of her. Recommended by a friend.

Estefannie - she makes things and machines! She also has some old videos on math, not that active, but it is pretty entertaining to watch her. Recently discovered.

Strawberry Nightmare - horror stories animated. I have been watching her for a long time and LOVED a lot of them. Some used to scare the shit out of them but hey, just says how good her narration and animation is!

Sapphire Sandalo - She used to be a narrator on SNARLED and now has her own animated horror story channel. She tells both the Filipino myths and myths/horror stories from all over the world.

Useless Farm - she is ANYTHING but useless. She has a farm where she has ostriches. "basically a woman making silly videos of her rescue farm animals who all have human names and an ostrich that tries to kill her anytime shes near her lmaoo" as said and recommended by @jaehyurb

小芊枫 XiaoQianFeng - channel dedicated to making beautiful things. From cyberpunk katana and traditional chinese bow down to the entire house. For those of us who love seeing women build and create stuff.

little tiny egg - art and sketchbook tours, as well as art studio vlogs. She is an illustrator who is inspired by naturalist guides so her artwork features a lot of the similar elements. Usually uses gouache and other traditional painting toold. She also had a website under the same name.

Kanae Nozawa - extremely talented erhu player. Covers music from video games and anime as well as makes her own original compositions! She also has concert and gig videos on her channel. My favourite cover of hers is Zelda TotK cover and her original melody Little Happiness!

Simone Giertz - a mechanical engineer who builds random stuff. She even spent 3 years designing a compact coat hanger for her house and before she used to make extremely short videos showcasing her machines! Recommended by @acidbathcat

Dr. Becky - An astrophysicist with tons of videos about space. As a sort of space nerd myself, I really appreciated this recommendation by @acidbathcat

Up and Atom - coincidentally once @acidbathcat recommended her to me, I get her in my YouTube feed! So basically she makes videos explaining things regarding physics, mathematics, astronomy and paradoxes. This one is for all the other science nerds.

Angela Collier - woman explaining physics and sometimes talking about her experience in the field. So far, my fav video has to be her talking about Pokémon and physics of their evolution. Again, recommended by @acidbathcat

tarantula kat - her channel is about tarantulas and taking care of them. If there are any tarantula enthusiasts or owners here, thank @acidbathcat as it was recommended by her.

SoupySoup - want some horror in your life? Well, Soupy does exactly this by making videos about random internet horror, as well as real one. She even has tumblr @/soupysoupx, so check it out if you want.

D i n L i f e - I don't even know how I forgot her! She makes adorable crafts from cotton dolls down to notebooks. Her channel is sort of about zero waste and making things out of what you have to prevent any waste. She has nice atmosphere and sometimes does vlogs.

Bear Soongnyoong - ASMRtist from Korea who features her cats in the videos. Uploads are not as frequent as before due to her having to undergo a surgery. Still, extremely adorable and nice atmosphere especially in that video where she treats her cat actress for a spa lol

HannahTheHorrible - horror Youtuber talking about unsolved mysteries, internet criminals and horror as well as makes icebergs relating to the subject. Sometimes she explores scary side of tiktok.

It's Time to Travel/ 旅する時間 - woman travelling around Japan, she has no narration in most videos but has English subtitles! She even made videos inside Japan's women only hotels!

EATRIP* Pyon Chan - another Japanese woman travelling, but this time she does so around the world too! She has narration but also subtitles on her videos and a wonderful atmosphere. Recently (Apr. 2024) she even visited Iceland and England!

5minBS -五分钟嗑研馆 - Chinese woman making short videos of moments from lesbian, femslash and GL movies from all over the world and different time periods (1950s to now!). Usually has subtitles on both Chinese and English.

Rumbo Mercy - South African artist talking all about being an artist, giving out tips to other artists, vlogging and maybe some reviews of different media.

Movie Monarch - she does short movie reviews. Sadly, she hasn't been posting in a while. Found her through Song of the Sea review she did.

Tokyo Simple Eco Life - Japanese woman talking about minimalism, decluttering and sustainable life. If you are interested in such, her channel is perfect for this. Her videos have subtitles on English and Japanese. Recommended by a friend.

The Internet Investigator - horror, mystery, internet mysteries and disturbing stories. All on her channel. I usually watch her videos on internet weirdness and tragedies.

Sinister - She has horror stories on her channel. Fully on Russian and I do not think she has any subtitles. I used to watch her before.

Tamakid - Her name is Evelyn and she has a bunch of cute videos relating to fashion, hauls and other random things. I really love the retro aesthetic she goes for!

Lydia Loves Timelines - videos about Family Guy, South Park, American Dad and other animated shows.

Gutsick Gibbon - specialises in human evolution and debunking creationism.

GEO GIRL - geoscience, extinct animals and history of the earth. She makes videos about tons of other subjects too like geobiology and even touches upon environmental themes.

[love-byers]

sus music editing in s4 byler scenes (a saga)

since tiktok might die in the US soon, i wanted to convert some of my old tiktoks into tumblr posts so they can live on forever! i've been wanting to do this for a while but never got around to it. i'm starting with this one because ive been posting about music coding a lot lately. i recommend watching the video attachment (at the end of the post) after reading the whole post, just so you'll have context when watching.

ALRIGHT!

will and mike are interrupted in the majority of their solo scenes. the scene in jonathan's room, the scene in will's room, the scene on the car, & the scene in the cabin. i noticed a long time ago that the songs used in the first 3 scenes listed build up for the first half and then kind of explode for the second half. there's a point where the song changes/released after the buildup.

the songs are:

eight fifteen (jonathan's room)

on the bus (will's room)

letter to willy (talk on the car)

BUT, in will's room & the car scene, mike and will are interrupted almost right before the song is supposed to climax. i lined the songs up and listened and i'm right. interestingly, in the scene in will's room, on the bus is edited. in the scene, the song starts like normal at the start of the song. but they cut the middle out so it would skip right to the part RIGHT before the climax of on the bus. THEY DID THAT. so at the very end of the scene just before they get interrupted, the song is teetering on the edge of the big explosive part of the song, but it doesn't happen because they're interrupted and the song ends. in the car scene letter to willy is also edited. maybe im wrong, but there's a note i hear in the car scene that i cannot find anywhere in the song. so it seems like they're purposefully using songs that are building to something but cut off right before the pay off of the buildup. i wouldn't be capitalizing on this so much if 90% of the scenes this happens in werent mike and will staring into each other's souls and then having their gazes torn from each other, but they are. so take that as you will.

now we need to talk about eight fifteen. this is fucking wild.

eight fifteen is all build up for the first half. then there's a moment where it teeters on the edge for a second, and then BOOM! release & loud pretty synths. i lined it up, and the 'teetering' part of the song is in the scene in jonathan's room, but like the others, it's edited. but this one is WAY more crazy.

the song starts from the beginning when will sits on the bed next to mike. it builds while mike talks about his problems with el and not saying the thing she wants. then will says "look, mike, you're gonna see her again, and whatever it is you didn't say, you can say it to her then, okay?" the teetering part starts when will says

"look" and goes all the way until he says "then"

when he says "then", that is the moment when the buildup is supposed to release. but in this scene, it doesn't happen. instead, when he finishes talking, specifically when he says "then" the note kind of trails off. it sounds weird. it's unsatisfying. there was no payoff to all that buildup. i've seen plenty of other tv shows where this is used to emphasize the face that there was no payoff. something in the scene was anticlimactic. something that they wanted to happen or were expecting to happen didnt. the characters are disappointed or left hanging.

and when that note trials off, mike says

"yeah...yeah" and looks down, looking upset and conflicted and disappointed

he wanted will to say something else. will saying "you can say it to her then, okay?" disappointed mike. that's not what he wanted to hear. i think mike wanted will to reassure him and tell him he doesn't have to say something he doesn't mean or doesn't want to say, and that when they see el again mike can explain himself. mike desperately wants to be told he doesn't have to pretend to be in love with el if that's not how he really feels. he wants to be told that el won't be angry if he's honest with her about his true feelings for her, which are platonic. (hence why he later nods after will says 'what if they don't like the truth?')

but will doesn't understand that. will thinks they are in love, he thinks they're perfect. so in his mind, it's fine because mike can just say it when he sees el again. but he thinks that because he thinks mike actually means it, when in reality he doesn't. and by doing that, will only further pushed mike into giving his false confession. now mike thinks even more that he just has to spit it out and tell el what she wants to hear even if it's not how he really feels. this just breaks my heart because mike is so hated on but he's a GOOD BOY💔💔 he's just a 14 year old kid who's afraid of failing the people he cares about but also hates lying about his feelings and just wants to feel free from the expectations others have for him. he just wants someone, specifically will, to tell him it's okay, and that he doesn't owe anyone anything, especially not his own feelings. and it hurts extra bad because if will knew the truth about mike not loving el he would shower him in support because of course mike shouldn't have to lie just because it's what el wants to hear.

and just in case anyone tries to say otherwise, YES mike lied in the monologue. it doesn't need to be proven, it's simply canon.

like there's no denying this. believing it's just a mistake by the writers before believing mike lied is CRAZY heteronormative copium. like come on💀

anyways, the things mike says and does in the scene in jonathan's support this theory. he threw away el's note. "a fight you cant come back from" "maybe if i just said that thing then things would be different" his phrasing sticks out so much. "said that thing" and not "told her" or "told her how i feel". to mike it's just saying words he doesn't want to say. and "a fight you cant come back from" its almost like he's hinting to will that he and el need to break up and he's hoping will will catch on and support him. he trusts will and values his opinion and wants his support. usually he and will very easily communicate non verbally and are naturally in tune with what the other is thinking and feeling, but this time will doesn't catch on (because of his own heteronormativity and assumption that mike and el are in love), and mike is disappointed. he brings this up over and over, like he isn't satisfied with will's answer, and is a little more honest every time. the only thing that seemingly satisfied mike was hearing will's feelings. why did it even get that far?? why would what will said in jonathan's room not suffice if he is actually in love with el??? it just doesn't make sense.

(unless it actually makes perfect sense)

i'm very confident in this since this lies less with the continuity within stranger things itself and more with basic film/video/sound editing. i even got some comments from editors/musicians who agreed with me!

"It's a tactic I've actually used before in editing. It keeps the audience engrossed, and really makes it FEEL interrupted for the audience."

"Woah that's crazy! And it literally stops on the fifth so it's totally legitimately unstable/ unresolved."

stopping on the fifth refers to a technique used in music composition to make a chord progression sound completed. i actually know a bit about this because i took music theory in college, but if anyone knows more than me feel free to share! a completed progression is like a circle. you must begin and end with the same chord. you start with one chord and move down a fifth to the next chord, and do that until you end up back at the original chord. that way it sounds nice and satisfying and completed. in 'on the bus', which the commenter was referring to, this process is cut short, which would serve no purpose other than making the music sound and feel incomplete or interrupted or unsatisfying.

if i just butchered that whole explanation please let me know, but im pretty sure that's accurate.

here is the video with two of the scenes i talked about, using 'Eight Fifteen' and 'On The Bus'

and just as a reminder, on the bus has only played twice in the entire show. first in the lumax talk on top of the bus in season 2, and second in the byler talk in will's room in s4. 🙂

anyways i hope this was comprehensible😅 i remember my tiktok followers being very confused so feel free to re read and re watch as many times as necessary or reply with any questions! and anyone who has more input on editing/music pls share with the class if you'd like!!

anyways byler endgame, thanks for reading

[cotardspringtrap]

You know, i have been thinking about it and it bothers me more ( shocker i know, the OCD person thought of something and it bothers them, they cannot let things go!!!! /sarc /silly )

William Afton, or any FNAF character really. Doesn't really have a lot of lore. Like he has ENOUGH for us to theorize some things or straight up believe other things, most characters do. I only really realized this when listening to Rye Toast's video on him for her FNAF timeline.

And now to back track a little. I do selfship with William Afton, but thats NOT what this blog is about, this blog is for all things FNAF. However lately i find myself either too scared to selfship with him again, or i don't feel the energy ( which also makes me feel bad ).

And then i realized, its probably lack of energy, lack of artistic creativity, and also sometimes lack of me fronting.

So to go back with what i started with and to round it all up: most FNAF fans, are JUST crushing on, adoring, loving, some sort of fanmade version of a character that either they made themselves or someone else made. This can be said for a lot of other fandoms too ( ex: Analog horror ).

And this is NO way me judging those people or saying "aha you guys don't like the original , loreless version". No by all means do what you want forever.

What I'm getting at is Anyone who mocks you for enjoying a FNAF character whether its William who is a villain or Michael or even just Glamrock Chica-

They're wrong. I mean they are anyway, but they're double wrong due to you or the people you follow have made a version that you enjoy.

FNAF has been like this forever! People STILL crush on / prefer Vincent.

I'm not gonna get into it today, but one of the reasons i selfship with William isn't just "evil killer mad scientist hot". But because in a odd way both him as himself and Springtrap helped me get through things.

Thats what fictional characters do, even ones you don't expect, they help you through the roughest times in your life. And maybe thats part of why i don't feel as connected- because while I'm still struggling, relationship wise i am safe and my mental self is mostly safe until i can afford therapy.

I know there will be people who see this and laugh and still not fully grasp at what I'm saying, they'll probably sum it up as "oh a weirdo is saying a kid killer help them get better what a freak". Okay Radiohead, i get it, I'm a freak I'm a weirdo 👍

But then there will be people who do understand, even if it isn't the same fandom or character.

*OP is Neurodivergent and tired of rudeness on the internet.

[sschizoid]

Could I have the Tulpar crew visiting the zoo? What animals they'd love to see, any of them they would want to pet, etc.

ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧ I've got you, nonny

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curly

his favorite animals to view are the koalas. such cute little guys, sleeping their lives away with their only worry being when they were set to get their next meal. he envied them in that respect; wished he was able to embrace a similar lifestyle and just relax. but he didn't really have the luxury to slow down these days

takes loooots of videos. most of them are of the animals just sitting there doing nothing while he really choppily zooms in on them. in the background you can occasionally hear him mutter a quiet "would you look at that," or, "wow. isnt nature just something else?"

makes others pose behind those cutout photo props where there's a hole to put your face, turning you into a tiger or monkey or something like that. claims he never asks anyone for anything ever, so the least they can do is indulge him with this

jimmy

doesn't care much for animals, but has a particular affinity for wolves. there was something to be said about their strength, their loyalty, their perseverance. they were apex predators for a reason. survivors, like him. how much humans could learn from them, he thought, if only they were willing to embrace their baser instincts

somehow always gets stuck walking behind the family of five with a stroller or wagon and is forced to slow his pace to 1.5mph. maybe if he sighs loud enough they'll think to pay attention to their surroundings, realize they're not the only people at the zoo, and get out of the goddamn way

tries to sneak a few shooters inside to at least make the experience a bit more tolerable, but gets caught at the gate. when he's told alcohol isn't permitted on zoo grounds, he looks the worker straight in the eye and downs them one by one, unflinching. shoves the empties into the worker's hands, pats them on the shoulder with a tight-lipped smile, and makes his way inside

anya

finds herself absolutely entranced by the capybaras. there's something about their simplicity, their slowness, and their calm temperament that has her feeling an odd sort of kinship toward them. also, she thinks they're super cute and its so silly that the babies look identical to the adults, just 50% smaller

loves the petting zoo. she's a very tactile person, and feeling the soft wool of the sheep and the little nibbles of the goats eating treats from her palm makes her giggle

enjoys watching those events held at the amphitheater where zookeepers and their animal ambassadors educate the public about the animal's diet, habitat, environmental roles, etc. bonus points if they allow the animal to be pet or have photo ops afterwards

swansea

some might jump to thinking he enjoys tougher animals like the rhinoceros or lion, but he really has a soft spot for penguins. not only are they, well, adorable, they're also brave, social, and incredibly captivating to watch in the water. he's especially partial to the adélie penguin because frankly, they just look kinda funny and he finds them endearing

"come on, if you have to use the bathroom, go while we're next to 'em. no, I don't wanna hear you sayin' you gotta go later 'cause you didn't have the sense to listen to me the first time. go."

lowkey is a bit intimidated by the goats at the petting zoo. once had a billy goat headbutt his leg when he wasn't looking and earned himself a pretty nasty bruise. now opts to stand on the opposite side of the fence whenever in their vicinity. he's not scared, he's just... too old for petting zoos. yeah, that's it

daisuke

thought his favorite animal exhibit was going to be a tie between the lemurs and flamingos, but then came across the pygmy slow loris. he'd never even heard of them before visiting, and they were just so wildly ridiculous that it was love at first sight. took at least 3 photos of himself pointing at it like this

LOVES the free-roaming peacocks that just strut around the zoo grounds doing nothing but flaunting their face cards and serving absolute c/nt. they're literally living his dream

insists on visiting the gift shop before leaving, obviously. they don't have a plush for the pygmy slow loris sadly, but he settles for a dopey-looking orangutan that has velco on its palms so he can wear it around his neck. refers to it as his son and is constantly whipping it against people while quietly vocalizing action sounds under his breath like "pow. pssshhew. wa-bammm..."

--

hello beloved mw fandom, I am back !! sorry for the inactivity as of late, currently going in order making my way through requests from oldest to newest. i love all of your ideas so much, they're all so creative and fun ( ⸝⸝´꒳`⸝⸝)