#and it feels impossible for me to catch up

[purplecoffee13]

The Silent Type*

Summary: “Harry, the quiet guy in the office, has silently admired you during your time working for the firm. Now that your work there is done, Harry finds that he can’t let you go just yet…”

Wc: 5k

Tropes: colleagues (ceorry/nerdrry)

Warnings: SMUT, overstimulation, daddy kink, switch sub/dom dynamics, oral, choking

A/N: SUP Y’ALL!!!! God I have just been waiting to be able to write again! I still have some exams coming up next week, but I spent all evening writing this one shot because I have been dying to get back into it😋 This is my first time writing a more subrry tinted fic, so I hope you enjoy it!

General Masterlist

if you want to support me more than liking or sharing, you can consider buying me a coffee!

************************************************

Harry has never been one to talk much.

It is one of the reasons why he chose the career of software developing. Most of it, he could do on his own.

It wasn't so much that Harry hated people, he just preferred his own company. More people tend to complicate things, and Harry is a more logical guy.

That was until he met you.

About three months ago, the company for which Harry worked had started their expansion, and he was to lead the people transferred to that section of the firm. With the expansion also came new employees, and that’s where you came in.

You had been temporarily hired by the company to weed out applicants, and assist the current HR manager to help with the job interviews.

Harry still remembers that first day when you walked into the office, all nervous and fidgety. He had spotted you through the glass walls of his office, and couldn't physically tear his eyes off of you.

It wasn't until your third day helping in the office, that you actually met Harry. You had no idea what to think of him. Well, besides the obvious, of course. He was ridiculously handsome, and from the way he was staring at you, you figured that maybe he was thinking something like that about you too.

But he didn't talk.

Your first time meeting consisted of nothing but a gruff 'nice to meet you' from Harry's side, and no input in the rest of the conversation whatsoever. It was only a couple days later, when you asked the HR manager about it, that you found out that's just how he was, that he didn't really talk to anyone. From that moment on, there had been a surge of motivation to let him make you the one exception.

Harry was just fascinated by you, and he had no idea why. You were a ball of energy, talking so fast you'd think someone had clicked on your 'sped up' button, and you were chaotic, all over the place. The amount of times he watched you bump into people was impossible to keep count of.

Then, one day, you bumped into him. It should have angered him, the spilt coffee on his pants. But he had an extra suit, and you looked so worried, he didn't want to make you feel worse. You still felt bad, though, so you decided to make it up to him, and started getting him coffee every morning.

By the end of the first week, he looked you in the eyes when he thanked you. By the end of the fourth, he'd ask you how you are and recall things you'd told him. By the end of sixth, he told you things about his life, and by the end of the tenth week, you were having longer conversations with him.

It was difficult to keep up the small talk with him in the beginning. You soon found out that his lone wolf attitude may had something to do with his awkwardness. You thought, perhaps people weren't willing to work through that, and eventually he just stopped trying.

Such a prospect made you sad, and it only motivated you more to get to know him better. Of course, the longing glances, and standing unnecessarily close to each other with his knuckles barely touching your arm, those things helped too.

There was an undeniable tension between the two of you that you found incredibly difficult to decipher. The way he'd let you catch him looking at you gave it away quite clearly, but the lack of any real initiative confused you.

Had you read it all wrong? Did he even think there was something there too?

Unfortunately, there was no way to find out, as your assignment at the company was coming to an end. Today had been your last day, and tonight is a launch party to officially celebrate the expansion of the company.

You were a little sad to leave the company, especially since you really liked the people working there. It is why you are most excited for tonight.

Wearing a long yellow dress—it is your favorite color—you stride into the building. You are mesmerized by all the balloons and how pretty everyone looks. Wearing expensive suits or classy dresses. You immediately realize you might be a bit too happily dressed; everyone is wearing darker colors.

It does make it easy for everyone to spot you, though. By the time you've gotten your drink, five people have already walked up to you. About half an hour into the party, the CEO of the company takes the stage to give a small speech.

"I would like to thank everyone who has participated in making this expansion go as smoothly as it did. Your work does not go unnoticed." He says through the microphone. Everyone claps for a few seconds, and the man waits to go on until it is quiet again.

"Now, I have a special announcement to make. I have wanted to make this expansion happen since I began working for this company in 1988. Now that I finally have, I feel that my job at this firm is done. And so, I have decided to retire from my position as CEO."

Your eyes widen at the speech; you had no idea this was even a thing. By the sound of the gasps and murmurs traveling through the room, you deduce that the news is unexpected for the rest of the company as well.

"It is also with great pride that I present the new CEO of our company, chosen after careful consideration. If mr. Harry Styles could please join me on stage."

Your mouth falls open at the mention of Harry's name, and you are certain you will never be able to close it again when you see him walking onto the stage. He wears a black suit, perfectly tailored to his body, and the sight of him has you concerned that you may be drooling.

The bald man hands the microphone to Harry, who does not look very pleased to be on stage; it almost seems like he is regretting his decisions. Until his eyes meet yours, that is when you see him let out a breath.

"Thank you, Mr. Johnson." He says, breaking eye contact to look at his former boss.

Right, that was his name, Johnson.

"I look forward to leading this company into more successes, and I promise that I will put my heart and soul into it. I have worked at this firm ever since I graduated college and they offered me a job during my internship, and it is safe to say that I have not regretted that decision a day of my life. I have always been loyal to this company, and I will remain loyal to you. Thank you."

You are perplexed. Why did he never tell you about this? You are very happy for him, but you do find it weird. It also makes you doubt again. Did whatever you had been building up the last months not mean as much to Harry as it did to you?

Well, it doesn't really matter, you're gone after tonight anyway.

Once the shock of the news has calmed down a bit, the party resumes as normal. Most people visit Harry one by one to congratulate him on the position, but you steer clear from him. It is no use, after tonight you will probably never see him again anyway.

Time passes, and you think you're ready to go home. There was a file in the office you forgot to sign earlier today, so you head up to do that first. The office is entirely dark when you walk out of the elevator. It's kind of eerie, so you are quick to turn on the lights.

It takes you a few minutes to find the file, since the receptionist placed it on someone else's desk. You find it on your colleague's desk, and walk over to the receptionist desk to sign it. Laying it on the keyboard of her computer, you pray that she won't displace it again, and make your way back to the elevators.

A loud shriek escapes you when Harry suddenly walks around the corner. He covers his ears at the high pitched sound, shocked by how much he scared you. With your hand on your chest you try and steady your breathing.

"Jesus, you scared the crap out of me."

"Sorry, didn't mean to." He says, a bit of worry in his tone. You look up at him.

"What are you even doing up here?"

"I was looking for you." He shrugs.

"Why?" Your eyebrows furrow, that same old tension in your stomach settling like it does every time Harry looks at you for longer than two seconds.

"You've been avoiding me." He answers casually, and you feel your heart drop. You didn't think he'd catch onto it.

"Congratulations by the way, for being the CEO. That was definitely a surprise." There is a bitterness in your tone. It is Harry's turn to frown. He hears the condescension, but his mind can't seem to come to a conclusion. Why are you angry? It's so hard to tell.

This is why he doesn't do people.

"You're mad that I am CEO?" He guesses, and your mouth falls open, much like it did when Harry's new position got announced.

"What?! Of course not! I'm very happy for you." You sputter out. The last thing you'd want him to think is that you don't want him to be happy or satisfied or successful.

"But you're still avoiding me." He repeats slowly. "You know, I didn't tell you about it because no one was supposed to know. I had to sign for it and everything. It's nothing personal."

The painful grip that his potential distrust in you had on your heart releases at the sound of his words. You could have known that it was due to something like that, you work in HR after all. That fact alone makes you realize how invested you unknowingly had become in Harry.

"I...I figured." You give him a weak smile. Harry's eyes search for yours, holding onto your gaze once he has found it. You stay like that, staring at each other for a while until you break the silence.

"I'm heading home. I don't think I'll see you again, so good luck. I'm sure you'll do wonderfully."

With much difficulty, you manage to look away from Harry and walk past him. At least, you try to, because halfway through, Harry's hand grabs your arm. You stop in your tracks, looking back at the man who stopped you. The man who has been sending you mixed signals for the past few months.

"D– do you want to join me in my office?"

You refrain from the shiver that threatens to run down your entire body, and nod. Harry's hand slides down your arm to your hand, and he intertwines his fingers with yours before he leads you to the glass doors that belong to him. On your way there, he flicks off the lights, leaving the two of you in the dark.

The city lights light up the otherwise pitch dark office that belongs to Harry, for now. He will be moved to the CEO's office when he starts his new position.

You don't say anything as Harry closes the door, or as he walks to the closet and pulls out a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. You wait, in anticipation of what he's going to do.

But then he sits down. He just sits down on his chair.

You stand there, staring at him, utterly confused about this man and his intentions with you, while he obliviously pours the whiskey into the glasses. In that moment, there is a switch inside of you, one that says: fuck it. This is your last day, you need a way to release this pent up tension, and you probably won't see him ever again after this. What have you got to lose? Nothing.

You walk over to the desk and sit down on it, extremely close to Harry. The split of your dress shows your bare, freshly shaved leg, and he seems to notice. His eyes pull to your legs like magnets, and he has to force himself to look you in the eyes as he hands you the glass of whiskey.

You try your best not to smirk at the effectiveness of your plan, focusing on your next move instead. Straight for the kill.

"So, why am I here, Harry?" You ask nonchalantly, taking a sip of your whiskey. It tastes very strong, and it takes you a lot of effort not to have an expressive reaction to it.

"What?" He asks, eyes wide like a deer in headlights.

"Why'd you take me here?" You ask again, setting down your glass at the table before moving to stand in front of him. "To admire the view?"

Harry looks out the window, but his head shoots back to you when he noticed you're sinking onto your knees in front of him. He thinks he may have forgotten to know how to breathe as he observes the lustful look in your eyes. His eyes travel down to your tits, even more visible from this angle.

"Because I've admired it every day for the past three months." You continue. Harry swallows, frozen by the overload of his brain and the sensitivity of the growing constraint in these pants. "Why don't you take your pants for me? Just enough to give me your cock. I like you in this suit."

Harry doesn't let another second fly by before he is unbuckling his pants, sliding it down just enough for you to have access to his cock and his balls. Your mouth waters at the size and girth of it, your cunt getting wetter with every passing moment.

You shimmy forward, leaning over his cock and grabbing it with your hand. Harry sighs at the minimal contact, making you feel even more powerful. Looking up at him through your lashes, you ask him one more question.

"You'll hold my hair, won't you?"

With that, you take Harry in your mouth as far as you can, before pulling away from him. A gasp leaves his mouth, and his eyes fall shut as you pump him with your hand while your mouth kisses and sucks on the head of his cock. You begin licking and kissing down his cock, while your hand softly feels up his balls.

Harry feels like he is in heaven already, and he forgets everything around him. It is only when you completely remove yourself from him that he opens his eyes again, and he sees. Catching on quickly, he leans forward and gathers your hair, twisting it around his palm.

Satisfied with Harry's obedience, your mouth attaches itself to his cock again. You take him slowly, teasingly, and move your head up and down. With every movement, you take him an inch deeper.

"Oh, f–fuck!" He groans out when you gag on him because you took yourself too far too fast. You steady your breathing, which is a bit more complicated as you can only breathe out your nose. You resume sucking him off for a bit longer, bobbing your head down a bit faster. The small sounds that leaves Harry's lips, along with his scrunched up face, gives you enough indication that he is approaching his climax.

So you remove your mouth from his cock.

He lets out a whine at the loss of contact. If your panties weren't wet before, they certainly are now. You smile at the state of him; desperate and needy for you. The fact that you've managed to make him fall apart like this makes you incredibly horny.

"I want to take all of you in my mouth, daddy." You tell him, looking up at him with your big eyes. "You'll have to help me."

You went out on a bit of a limb when you decided to call him daddy, but he doesn't seem to mind at all. In fact, Harry's eyes light up and his jaw slacks at the mention of the pet name.

"Shit– anything, sweetheart. Whatever you need." He croaks out.

"I need you to fuck my mouth." You respond sternly, not wasting any time and taking him between your lips again. You push yourself down his cock as far as you can, breathing deeply before moving your hand to Harry's hand, which is holding onto your hair, and pushing your head forward to indicate that he needs to push his cock down your throat.

Again, it doesn't take him long to listen, because Harry's hips thrust forward, his dick gliding into your throat. You moan at the force with which he pushed, and keep your mouth wide open as you let Harry navigate your head.

Once he fully understands that you are allowing him to let him use your mouth, the true fun begins. With the firm grip he has on your head, he pushes you up and down at an ungodly speed. Your jaw is already tiring from its locked position, but you power through it because the sounds that leave Harry's mouth make up for it.

"Fuck baby, such a good mouth. Never had anything like this... Jesus!" He pants out as he begins to thrust up into your mouth, and you feel like you might pass out. Suddenly, he pulls you away from his dick.

You frown, and realize as he is grabbing for a tissue that he is avoiding messing up your face. You don't stand for it, though, and wrap your lips around his cock again just in time for him to come inside your mouth. You take him deeper and feel the way his sperm shoots in the back of your throat.

"Fuck! Shit, shit..." The not so wide arrange of curse words are the only thing Harry is capable of saying as he dumps his load inside your mouth. The fact that you were so adamant about having his sperm in your mouth made his orgasm even more intense.

Your mouth lets go of his cock with an exaggerated plop, and you swallow every last bit of him, grinning at his fucked out face.

"That was... amazing." He sighs, his gaze flicking from your mouth to your eyes. You hum in agreement, and get up from the floor as he pulls up his pants. You are about to walk away, when Harry grabs your wrist.

"Where are you going?"

"Home." You answer with a smile, but Harry's grip on you only tightens. He shakes his head, his lips pouting.

"No, you need to stay. Let me make you feel good too." He protests. You squint your eyes at him.

"I don't need to do anything."

Harry's eyes widen. "You're right. But just let me make you feel good before you go, please? It's the least I can do."

Your mouth slowly forms into a grin, glad to have him where you want. Well, almost.

"Beg me."

Harry scoffs. "Are you serious? I don't really do begging."

You shrug, smiling at him. "That's fine. My vibrator can get me off too."

You take a few steps towards the door, while Harry contemplates his decisions. However, those were all clouded by the sole moment to please you the second you mentioned your vibrator. The image of you getting off like that is too much to bear. He needs to do it for you.

"Stop." He says. You turn around, and walk back to him as he gets out of his chair and gets on his knees. Grabbing your waist, he pulls you closer, his nose digging into your dress. His hands run up and down your legs, and it is making you weak in your knees.

"Please, let me eat you out baby. I'll do anything to make you feel good. I need to taste you so bad, please let me pleasure you."

You swallow, eyelids ready heavy, as you sigh out. "Alright."

Harry grins at your admittance of defeat, and stands up. He leads you to sit on his desk, your dress hiked up. He removes the stuff behind you, so that you can lean back entirely in case you want to, and waltzes over to his chair.

Spreading your legs, he rolls himself closer to you, and assesses your soaking wet panties. Chuckling, he leans to the side and grabs a pair of scissors, before he cuts the skimpy material from your body. You'd say something of it, but the sight of him admiring your pussy like this is too fascinating to interrupt. So, you keep quiet.

When Harry's thumb suddenly presses on your clit and begins to rub it, you can't help but gasp. His touch feels too good, and that blowjob got you really worked up.

"You have no idea how many times I've fantasized about this." Harry says, marveling at how reactive you are being.

"Me too."

His eyebrows rise up. "Yeah? Tell me more, baby."

You bite your lip, too obsessed with the pet name he's given you. It sounds so sexy coming from his mouth. He awaits your response with bright eyes, lazily rubbing your clit.

"Your arms... I'd think about them so much. And your hands, I'd imagine you choking me with them. They're so big..." You begin, and you know that you could go on for hours if you had to tell him about everything you've thought about doing with him, or doing to him.

Harry doesn't say anything, instead responds with two fingers entering your pussy. You moan at the feeling of his large fingers pumping in and out of you. It feels way fuller than your hand already. His two fingers is the equivalent of your three fingers.

"We can definitely make those fantasies come true..." Harry says softly. "But first, let's make you come, hmm?"

You nod, your head falling back and allowing yourself to fully indulge in the pleasure Harry's giving you right now. You let yourself lay on his desk, wrapping your legs around his shoulders.

"Fuck, that feels good– oh fuck!" You shriek out when Harry tongue begins attacking your tongue after he adds a third finger. He speeds up the movements of his hand to match those of his tongue, and holds onto that tempo until your mind can't conjure up any more words to speak to him.

With the control entirely out of your hands, you let Harry guide you to your orgasm, which washes over your body like a tidal wave. You unconsciously push Harry's head further into your pussy with your legs. With an arched back, you moan at the sensitivity of your clit.

Harry lets you take a minute to catch your breath before he pulls on your arms to have you sit up straight. He is smiling sweetly at you, and your heart warms at it.

"You okay?" He asks, kissing your hands. You nod, trying to ignore the flutters in your heart at the way he is being so gentle.

"Thank you for letting me make you feel good, baby." He says, getting up and leaning into your face. His nose brushes against your cheek as he plants his lips on yours. Your arms wrap around Harry's neck as you kiss him deeper, too caught up in how good he feels and how much you want him.

You're never this greedy. You've never felt like you needed a man's cock inside of you. Like it was the only feasible option. You feel it driving you crazy, and you're sure it is the only reason you say— no, ask:

"Please, fuck me."

The grin that forms on Harry's lips makes you feel like you should regret what you said. A grin like that usually belongs on your face in situations like these. But you need him so bad, you don't really care that you are the desperate one this time.

"Oh, you're begging now too, huh?" He says cockily. You glare at him, pissed that he's acknowledging your neediness and mocking you for it too.

"It's alright baby, I'll give it to you. 'M cock's already hard again from watching you come like that. So fucking sexy..." He says. He pulls his pants down and lifts you off the table, turning you around to the glass windows and pushing your hands against them. "Bend over a bit and speak your legs for me, baby."

You do as he says, biting your lip at Harry's hand that pushes away your dress and roams over your ass. He positions his cock at your entrance and pushes himself into you, sighing in pure relief. You shut your eyes tightly at the size of him filling you up.

"Fuck, you feel good baby." He says, slowly beginning to move in and out a bit. You let out a soft 'yes', causing Harry's jaw to clench. He spanks your ass, watching as it bounces from the impact, and his cock twitching at your yelp.

"Perfect fucking ass... perfect fucking girl, aren't you?" He groans, now lazily thrusting into you. He wants to give you time to adjust, but he learns your wishes when you begin to push yourself back into him.

"Ah, I see. Greedy girl wants to speed things up, hmm? Your wish is my command." He mocks, but does speed up his pace. His hands hold your waist as he begins to pound himself into you, your ass shaking at the impact. He spanks your ass again for good measure, obsessed with the way it moves.

You nearly lose yourself in how good it feels, but you know that he can get deeper than this.

"I want to ride you... want to feel you in my tummy." You spit out, hoping he understands what you're saying in your croaky voice.

Harry listens, pulling himself out of you immediately and taking a seat in the chair. You turn around and walk over to him, throwing your legs on both sides of his lap, before grabbing his cock and sinking yourself down on it.

It goes smoother this time, but Harry's really deep now, just like you wanted. The sensation is everything to you, but you can tell how good it feels for him too. Glad to have a bit of the control back, you start to bounce on his cock.

Fascinated by the way you are moving  above him, Harry's eyes travel over your body. His hands travel to the straps of your dress and push them down until he can get your tits out of the top part of your dress. He begins to massage them as you keep impaling yourself on his dick over and over again.

"Fuck, daddy, you feel so good... so good for me. Listening to me. Knew this was the best way to fuck you... you love it." You slur happily. Harry nods profusely at your words, jaw slack and moaning out in pleasure.

"Yes, needed it so bad baby. You're fucking daddy so good..."

You smile at how caught up Harry looks in his pleasure, like he doesn't know what to do with it. You, however, do know what to with it. You grab one of his hands and wrap it around your throat, before you do the same to him. With his hand on your neck and yours on his, you begin to fuck him as fast as you can.

"Ah, fffuck... shit! Holy shit!" He yells out, and automatically thrusts himself into you, reaching an even further level of deepness that you had never thought possible.

"Come inside me daddy." You pant out, and he does. It is as if your permission set him off. You smile in delight at the feel and knowledge of his cum being so deep inside of you.

You fuck Harry through his orgasm, and even after. He squirms in his seat. "Wait— too sensitive."

"I don't care, I haven't come yet. Don't you want to make me feel good? Have me coming around your thick cock?" You say sensually, and Harry nods. "Words."

"Yes– fuck! I want you to come, please come around my cock. Please, please..." He begins to beg, a tear rolling down his cheek.

Your toes curl at his whiny voice, and soon your juices are gushing all over his cock. Your pussy contracting around him seems to set Harry off even more, as you feel even more sperm spraying out of his dick and into your walls.

You ride out your high until you can't move anymore. You sit there, forehead pressed against Harry's as you both come down from what just happened.

After a minute or two, you decide to pull out. Slowly but surely, you manage to get Harry's dick out of you without hissing too much at the sensitivity of every single body part down there.

You lean against the desk, too wobbly to stand on your own, and you let Harry wipe you clean with the tissues on his desk. After cleaning himself up, he stands up and positions himself in front of you.

"Hey." He says. Your hand cups his jaw and your thumb wipes away the tear that is far down his face now.

"Hi." You tilt your head. The both of you burst out laughing, still surprised by what went down just now.

"That was really good." He says once the laughter has died down. You nod in agreement.

"Good enough for a repeat?"

Harry pretends to think it over, before he responds: "under one condition."

"And what would that be?" You quirk up an eyebrow, intrigued by his vagueness. He smiles at you so wide that you wonder if his mouth might be hurting.

"You let me take you out on a date first."

You roll your eyes, pretending not to be amused as he chuckles at your reaction. But the second you see the look on his face and the sincerity behind it, you realize that he is being quite serious about this request. You bite your lip, wanting to kiss him right then and there.

"I would love that."

[in-another-april]

summary/prompt + genre - Spencer's pretty and you're in love. That's it that's the fic. | fluff

warnings - none

wc - 363

notes - i finally had to use "y/n" in a post on here and im losing it. the flashbacks of my wattpad days have me fighting for my life. anyways more obsessed!reader because wow! they're literally me!

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You adore listening to Spencer ramble, you really do, but right now, you just want to love on him.

He's explaining the new documentary he just finished watching, but you're too busy admiring him to focus on what he's saying. The way his eyes light up, the excited smile on his face. You're caught up in how passionate he sounds, how smart he sounds.

You feel bad for not paying attention, but he's the one that's being so distracting.

"Y'so pretty, Spence." You feel silly that it's all you can say, but it's all you can think about.

He stops, eyes wide and cheeks burning. He's quick to avert eye contact, looking everywhere but at you as he fights back a dopey smile. You make his head spin.

"Stop it," It's embarrassingly high-pitched, almost a whine. He'd be lying if he said he didn't love when you fawned over him, even though it never fails to fluster him.

He pushes himself closer to you to duck his head into your neck, bashful under your affectionate gaze. You don't let him get away that easily, catching his face in your hands and pressing a kiss to his lips.

"Can't help it," You gush, your foreheads still pressed together after you've pulled away from the kiss. Your lips trail across his cheek, up his nose, to his forehead, and he giggles, ticklish, playfully swatting you away.

In the midst of all his thrashing, he falls back onto the couch. He takes you with him, letting out a comically surprised squeak when you fall on top of him, and you both feel tears well up in your eyes from laughing so hard.

You kiss his nose one last time, for good measure, and he smiles up at you. His eyes are full of affection, hands finding your face to run his thumb along your jawline, up to your cheek. You lean into his touch, kissing his palm.

"You're ridiculous." All fondness, voice raspy from all of the laughing.

"Ridiculously in love with my ridiculously perfect boyfriend, maybe." You tease, he just makes it too easy.

"(Y/N)!" His blush gets impossibly deeper, weakly glaring at you in faux indignation.

"Okay, okay, I'll stop!"

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

taglist - @lover-of-books-and-tea @maskysluvr @aurorsworld @wisteriaspencer @radioactiveinvisible @mandarinmoons @spencereidapologist @lyd14-d33tz @luvkatryna @khxna @flow33didontsmoke (send an ask or message to be added/removed!)

[aerithisms]

i think my problem with this dw season arc accusing the audience of fanbrain for theorising about ruby is that it both feels deceitful and isn't actually that compelling from a character perspective. the season goes out of its way to build up supernatural mystery around ruby and even invokes susan more heavily than ever before in a way that is deliberately trying to get the audience to make those connections. and then it turns around and says you stupid idiot why would you ever try to connect these dots i have deliberately tried to get you to connect.

building up a mystery only for the character to be ordinary is an impossible girl arc redux only this time accusing the viewer of failing to see the humanity of the companion, whereas the impossible girl arc was turning that accusation on the doctor. 7b didn't really blame the audience for viewing clara as a puzzle and in fact several times spells out the fact that clara is perfectly ordinary before the big reveal to give the audience a chance to catch on. as 7b goes on, instead of laying the mystery on thicker, the audience just gets more and more affirmations that clara is a normal human being (rings of akhaten, journey to the centre of the tardis, hide). i found this approach compelling because it was rooted in character, focusing on the doctor's disconnection from humanity/the gendered dynamic of a man treating a woman as his manic pixie mystery to pull him out of grief. s14's meta approach of accusing the viewer feels both unfair, given it has deliberately led the viewer towards theorising, and personally less compelling to me because it wasn't tied into character in any way.

the thing about rey's parentage in tlj is that the reason rian johnson chose to go for that reveal was that it was the only answer that was interesting. none of the theories - rey is a skywalker, rey is a kenobi, and even the eventually canonical rey is a palpatine - were interesting or satisfying because they brought nothing compelling to the table for the story being told. the only satisfaction to be gained from those answers was a fanbrained "omg rey is important because she's related to that guy from the other movie." on top of that, rey desperately wants her parents to have been important, to give her life and her abandonment some kind of significance. so them being ordinary provided the most compelling trajectory for her character because it was the thing she least wanted to hear. it forced her to do the most introspection and growth, as well as tying into the film's themes about the capacity of ordinary people to be special. it wasn't just a choice made to "gotcha" the viewer, it was rooted in character.

i don't think ruby's mother being ordinary accomplishes the same thing. by invoking susan, s14 is engaging with the most egregious example of the doctor's streak of abandonment, which has potential to be very compelling in relation to ruby (and now also the doctor's) own abandonment issues. theories that ruby might be susan, or be somehow related to susan, or somehow related to the doctor, weren't just fanbrained "omg she's related to that guy i know from the classic series." they were theories genuinely rooted in character and the potential to explore both the doctor and ruby's issues with abandonment. and this is something the show willingly led fans towards by invoking susan so much in the first place. so for the show to turn around and act like they were shallow out of nowhere ideas when they were not shallow and were based on potential character conflicts the show itself deliberately invoked, feels misguided.

as well as that, ruby's mother being ordinary does not require that same growth from ruby as it did for rey because it is exactly what ruby wanted to hear. she never wanted her mother to be important, she just wanted to know who her mother was and have a connection with her. so finding out she was a normal woman who still loves her and wants to be a part of her life is everything she's ever wanted. it doesn't introduce interesting conflict for her the way rey's parents being ordinary did for her, because they were written as different characters with different hangups over their abandonment.

tl;dr i don't necessarily dislike ruby's mother being ordinary as an idea but compared to the things it was inspired by - 7b and star wars - it is not nearly as compelling in terms of how it relates to the characters or themes. and the meta angle, while conceptually interesting, doesn't quite work for me because it feels a little manipulative of the audience.

[t1red-twilight]

just like heaven

summary: inspired by every conversation i have ever had. feel free to request this duo because i kind of love them

content/warnings: gn!reader, goth/alt!reader, fluff, corny:/

word count: 0.7k

masterlist

on one of the very rare friday nights that you and spencer had free, you both were catching up on your favorite show.

“what did you think if me when you first saw me?” at spencer’s inquiry, you paused. you hadn’t really thought of this; when you looked at spencer now, you felt the exact same way you did when you saw his favorite purple tie several years ago.

-

he was tall and thin, and his tie was purple and had a paisley pattern on it. the pattern clashed with his argyle sweater vest, but his shirt was a cohesive purple that matched the tie. while your shoes made you a few inches taller, he still towered over you slightly.

when you introduced yourself, he stuttered out his name and his academic achievements.

damn, you were really in for it this time. this tall stick bug with jesus hair might very well be the death of you.

-

“hmmm,” you traced shapes onto his arms that were around your middle. “i thought that you looked like the most pretty person i had seen. i still think that, by the way. but also that you looked too young to have three doctorate degrees.”

his cheek moved to rest against the top of your head and he exhaled out a silent laugh. you shuffled impossibly closer to him. “yeah, i’ve heard that a couple times.”

the two of you settled back into watching the show again. following a pause, you asked him that same think. “well, what did you think of me when you first saw me?”

you swore that you could hear him mulling over what he was going to say in his head. “c’mon. did you think i looked like i was going to be mean and heinous and drink your blood or something?”

“well actually, i was quite alarmed, my love. I was a little scared, to be honest.” while you respected his honesty, this was a funny anecdote to you as you had been told this several times throughout your life.

“you thought that i was scary?”

spencer chuckled at this. you were laying on the couch as he held you. he looked away from the tv as he responded to you. “i didn’t think you were scary, per se, i was just scared of you.” he stiffened at the realization that he might be offending you.

worried that he had offended you, he rambled on. “i was quite sheltered growing up, so seeing someone come to work with platform loafers on and enough jewelry to make a tsa agent scream i was a little unnerved.”

“okay that may be a fair point, but you know i tone down the vampirism for work,” you replied. the tone you had gave spencer the impression that you were not, in fact, offended; he relaxed his stiffened posture. “my loafers aren’t even the most intimidating out of my shoes.”

he laughed at this, and his arms tightened around you, and he urged you to look at him.

“of course that didn’t last long. your dark garb doesn’t at all match your sweet personality.” you had no idea how to respond to this, so you didn’t respond further than a hum. you moved your hand to rub circles into his belly over his old gray fbi academy shirt.

“you know, it wasn’t just the demonias that were alarming, honey.” at your questioning look, he continued. “you do happen to be the most beautiful person that i have ever seen.”

“i am?” you peeled your eyes away from the tv to look at him quizzically.

very nonchalantly, he answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “of course you are, angel. i wouldn’t be telling you that if it wasn’t the truth.”

“well, i appreciate it, spence.” he looked at you as if you were being sarcastic. “i mean it, i’m flattered,” you smiled as you looked into his eyes.

he smiled back at you. “i mean it. you look like an old cathedral or something. daunting but alluring.”

“that is a huge compliment, even though the way you said it sounded incredibly pretentious.” you laughed lightly, replying without hesitating. “i think you look like a hot version of professor plum from clue.”

this got a full belly laugh from spencer. “i suppose i do wear a lot of purple.”

you both turned back to the television and continued your show.

“...wait, you think i’m pretty?”

[kassandra-hawthorne]

Starlight Serenade ✨🎶

M!wolven x fem!human reader Getting ate out by your wolven boyfriend.

‼️Minors and ageless DNI‼️

-NSFW, size difference, cunnilingus, m!using sex toy, mentions of rough sex, monster/human relationship, established relationship, mates, predator/prey kink, and body worship if you squint WC: 1,519

-A/N: This is my first piece with monster smut. I purposely kept things a bit vague to get a feel of it. The last thing I want to do is do a disservice to the monster smut community. I am still learning and figuring out my own writing style with it. Feedback is always welcome if you care to give it. Please be nice. 😊💖 Plus I just cannot get this image out of my head. 

I hope you enjoy! 💋

There was a small hiccup when you two first started being intimate. The sheer size difference alone made your Wolven boyfriend feel on edge. He always did his best to control himself, to make sure you could get used to him, his size, being with a creature like him. He will never forget the one time he caused you pain. The time he slipped inside you a little too quick and a little too hard. It did hurt at first, but you tried to assure him that it was ok. 

Since then, you went to research other wolven/human couple forums to see if anyone else had this problem. To your surprise, it was very common for human women to have trouble with their wolven lovers at first. Some even took longer than others to take it properly. It was difficult, but not impossible. You told your sweet man what you found and you both found ways to be intimate and both get what they want. You even began to want just the rough stuff, much to your partner’s delight.

But this night, you wanted to see his gentle side. Needed it. You wanted to be with the shy wolven man who you fell in love with all those years ago. It was nights like this that made you want to lock yourselves into your room and enjoy each other the entire night. You didn’t care if things got rough afterwards, you just needed him to touch you. To rub those massive paws across your chest and grip your thigh still for him. You became lost in thought on the ride home. 

“I can smell you, my starlight”, he says through gritted teeth, gripping the reins.  “Then you know what I want..?”, you say coyly looking up at him. 

He pulls you closer to him, firmly holding you beside him on the carriage perch. You let out a small welp, but smile. He’s controlling himself for you, but tonight you want to have some fun. 

“We could run”, you smile up at him. 

He looks down at you with that handsome furry face giving you a challenging look. You spread your legs just enough to open up the bottom of your dress so the wind can send your scent up to his sensitive nose. He stops the carriage and throws you on his back. The horses know how to get home from here, the groundskeeper will get them. You wrap your arms around him and hang on. He gets you both home in record time. His deep breathing, the low growling, the looking at you like you are his prey, it’s too much. You need your mate, and now. 

You dash upstairs to your shared bedroom. He knows how you like to be chased and given a small headstart. It never matters, he always catches you. But it feels him with such a euphoric feeling of hunting you down and taking you, knowing how bad you need him. 

You actually make it to the door before you hear him rushing up the stairs and down the hallway. Your heart is pounding. As soon as the door is open, you are tackled to the bed and pinned down. You both take a moment to catch your breath, just staring into each other’s eyes. He looks down at you, trying to decide how he will strip you.

“Rip it off”, you tell him, as if you could read his thoughts. 

Without even thinking about it, he grabs your dress and rips it off of you without any care for the article of clothing. Fabric goes flying and in the aftermath, you can see he cannot wait any longer. You have to tell him what exactly you want. 

“I need you to taste me, but I want it gentle”, you smile sweetly at him. His low growl makes your pussy wetter and now you have no means of attempting to mask your scent. 

“As you wish, my starlight”, he says in a deep soft voice with a predatory grin, “Relax and let me worship your body”.

He stares at you for just a moment, thankful to have you as his mate. He stalks to the bed and slides his paws up your legs to your thighs. He gently spreads your legs. It’s taking everything not to completely ravish you tonight. But he controls himself, this isn’t about him tonight. You are needing something from him, something only he can provide for you. As your mate, he would never deny you. 

You were so swollen with need. Your pussy, so pretty. He could see your wet pussy glistening in the moonlight from outside. It was time to feast. He kisses up your thighs to the lips between your legs. You try to squirm, but he holds you still. You relax because you trust him. He takes one last whiff of you because taking his tongue from the bottom of your pussy very slowly licking his way up to your clit. You moan loudly, being held in place as he savors your taste. He slowly laps over you, teasing you, waiting to hear what he wants to hear.

He wants to hear to beg for it. Having you needing underneath him drives him completely feral. You try to hold out, thankful for such a gift. You look down at your mate and see that crazed look in his eye. He was ready to give you what you wanted and you were ready to take it. He laps you up one last time slowly before completely devouring you. 

He releases his grip just enough so you can move against his face. He absolutely loves it when you buck your hips while he is tongue deep inside of you. You feel him stop and look down confused, then see him adjusting something. You bite your lip. He looks up from placing the pocket pussy against the bed. The pocket pussy made from a mold of your pussy. You get to have what you want tonight, but so does he. 

There have been a few nights after vigorous love making where you were just too sore to take his massive dick again. So you found a way for him to live out a fantasy of his own while you recuperate. He can eat you out while fucking you at the same time. 

He slams himself into the toy pussy and groans into yours, going insane with pleasure. You wrap your legs around his face and grab a fist full of hair. He doesn’t mind. He always encourages you to be rough without asking. He knows you could never hurt him. He’s told you to use him if it means making your pleasure better. Tonight you are going to do just that. You buck your hips and ride his face while he furiously fucks the little toy pussy. You release your grip and lay back against the satin sheets on your bed. The cold from the sheets with the warm coming from your mate putting you in a sensory overload. The best kind. 

He works your pussy, playing with the outer part of your entrance. He has one goal in mind, making you cum…..hard. He wants to feel it come from you and into his mouth, he wants to clean you up with his tongue, he wants to see the face you make when he makes you reach your high. Then he hears it. The moan. The moan you make when you’re about to climax. He knows it all too well. You let out a moan with a slightly higher octave and your breath catches. He’s close too. He knows the moment he hears you scream his name he is going to explode and probably ruin the toy you made for him. 

You grab the sheets and arch your back.  Yes. Yes, my starlight. Cum for me. Let me taste it.  

He completely releases his hold over you, allowing you to be in control of your orgasm, but you hold his hands there. He smiles before moving your legs back, putting you on display for him. He concentrates on your clit until you see stars and are convulsing beneath him. You scream his name, as he knew you would do. You scream and moan and beg him not to stop. He looks up as he feels you cum in his mouth and sees your face. You're staring down at him with such pleasure on it. He cums instantly, nearly fumbling onto the bed. His entire body is wracked with ecstasy as you both ride out your highs. 

It’s not until he is completely drained of his seed that he moves his mouth off of you. He leans his head back and licks his lips. He sighs and looks down at you. Before him, you lay there looking up at him with complete love and adoration in your eyes. Your body relaxed against the massive bed. You smile up at him and he can’t help but return one back.

“Are you satisfied, my mate?” “Completely”, you say sweetly. 

divider source

[lindsay00000008]

Ghost x Fem!Reader

DownBad!Simon Ghost Riley x JustAFriend!Reader

Part 2 (Prev)

CW: suggestive fluff, bad jokes, boners, reader is willfully dumb, author doesn’t know where this story is going but wants to write more parts anyway, first cod fic actually send help, is he smiling too much? Idk, happy ghost I guess

“Well that… that is not a book.”

Ghost’s eyes lock onto yours, too close for comfort. Your whole body flushes, and your stomach dips. This situation is way out of hand. His breath huffs and his body tenses, and your skin tingles with the charge in the air — the playfight isn’t over.

You do the only thing you can think of. You wriggle your arm between the two of you and cover his mouth with your palm, using his surprise to smoosh his face away from yours and twisting your body to the side. Both of you roll off the couch and onto the floor. You’re on top, and ready to break away, to end the fight with a handshake and burning cheeks.

But you gasp as his legs come up and around your hips, and his arms catch your torso and head, bringing you into his hips like a tree to a bear.

“Simon!” you yelp, though it sounds more like Fimom, the word getting lost in his meaty shoulder. His hold is gentle but stiff, and it’s impossible to go anywhere. You shift your body, feeling like you’ve been gift-wrapped by a professional knot-maker. “Mmph…” you give up and let your body relax on top of his.

After a few moments of heavy silence he sighs and relaxes his grip.

“Mmm,” he purrs. “This is nice…”

You can’t help the laugh that bubbles up as he finally allows you to move.

“If you wanted a cuddle you could’ve just asked,” you tell him, rolling off him to land on your back.

“I meant the roughhousing,” he deadpans, turning his head to watch you.

“Oh, of course. My mistake,” you quip back. Then you remember the box on the floor and jolt upright, stuffing the contents back in before stumbling to your feet and heading to your room, your shoulder tensed for a possible pounce. But it seems playtime is over, and you make it to your room without a fuss. You toss the small box on your bed, then change your mind and put it in a drawer instead.

When you return, Simon is in the kitchen, peeling the dry outer layers away from an onion.

“You can just cut it in half and it’d be easier to get those bits off,” you tell him.

“It’s not clean,” he retorts.

“You’re worried about a little dirt?”

“No,” he doesn’t elaborate, but keeps peeling it anyway. You settle into his side and smile, taking the skin off a second onion. How silly, that this man cares so much for grocery store germs, when he probably had days at a time in the field where he couldn’t even wash his hands?

When he finishes peeling his onion, he washes his hands again, and even rinses the onion, before grabbing the knife. You follow the routine, not wanting to gross him out or overstep. You guess it may be an overcorrection, him trying to be as clean as possible when he can. You just don’t remember seeing these tendencies when he’s made food for himself, those times you came over after your own early dinner. In fact, this may be the first time he’s cooked for you.

“You want to become God, then?” You joke, feeling a bit lame.

“What?”

“Cleanliness. Close to godliness.”

He shrugs. “You deserve a clean onion.”

That’s makes you snicker. “You must think so highly of me. Odd, considering you’ve seen the kind of messes I make when I cook for you.”

He smiles at that. You’re thinking of the time you accidentally heated up soup in a soapy pot. Simon had half of his bowl before you took a bite, only commenting that he must have that rogue cilantro gene. But he could be thinking of one of the many other food mishaps that occurred under your hospitality.

As he chops, you bend down and pat his leg to scooch, so you can access the cabinets beneath him. He tilts his hips and steps away — but not before you notice the bulge tightly packed behind his zipper. As you nonchalantly grab the glass bowl and pan you need, your head spins. Is this some odd side effect of cutting onions? Your eyes sting, you cry, you pop a boner…

Or was it because he just had your body under him, atop him, picturing you using your recent delivery…?

No. It’s not you he’s reacting to, he’s just a guy. He just got a little excited, got his blood pumping for a play fight with his bestie. That’s normal. But you can’t help thinking how you have this giant, manly — sexual man in your kitchen. How you ever managed to disregard that fact in the first place.

You’ve stalled after placing the pan on the stove, and you don’t realize until a handful of minced onion hits the pan in front of you.

“Oh wait, the oil,” you tell him, looking up at his face. He looks concerned for you, and maybe a little warm himself, a pink flush on his cheeks.

“Just poured some. You okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah… Water?”

He grunts his confirmation. You open the fridge to find the filter empty. You sigh.

“Beer?”

“Beer.”

[nrdmssgs]

Respectfully, I wanna deep throat Nikto. Like he can fuck my throat ☆

Masterlist

He can and he will.

TW: pure smut, no story, finger sucking, Nikto slightly doming, face fucking

When you first leaned in, letting Nikto capture your lips in a heated kiss - he was gentler than you expected, threading his fingers through your hair to pull you closer and deepen the kiss. You wouldn't mind gentle on any other day, but not today. Not when your body is all tensed due to the hormonal storm of ovulation. Not when your skin burns without a contact to his. Not when you are this hungry.

You are both breathless when you part, your eyes meet his pale blue irises. You want him so badly, it is embarrassing. It's a good thing, he can't read your mind, cant see all the awful dirty things, you crave. Your lips travel down his chest, leave a vet trail of kisses on his belly.

"Greedy, aren't we?" A low chuckle catches you on your knees, at eye-level with his waist.

You look up with a silent plea. You're too shy to vocalize, what do you want, but you can show. Your hands travel up his pants, fingers carefully tugging the belt.

With a click of his tongue, Nikto catches your wrists in a steel grip. It's so hard to balance between the intoxicating lines of his abdomen just centimeters away from you and the need to behave in order to-

"Did I let you?"

He didn't. Rascal. Nikto would let you do anything to him, use his body in any way, but once you really need him - the man remembers, that teasing is on the table as well.

So now he scans your features, weighs all the nice and naughty things you did so far. All to decide what to do with that pretty mouth of yours.

He cradles your face gently, tilting his head to one side as he subtly sways his hips forward. With a deft motion, Nikto hooks his thumb beneath your lower lip, brushing the salty tang of sweat from his skin against your teeth. In a low, resonant murmur, he commands, "Open up."

You oblige, closing your eyes. Here in the darkness of a suffocating bliss, he sends you in, you don't just let his index and middle fingers slide in - you practically breathe him in, sucking eagerly.

You can't help yourself - you don't even care anymore if he sees this side of yours. Indulgent. Nasty. Corrupted.

A moan leaves your chest as he pulls his fingers out and tastes them.

"Umnitza. A glubzhe smozhesh?*" Once again, a tease, a dare. He becomes unbearable, when he is certain, you are ready to do anything.

With a fast nod you catch his fingers as soon as he lowers his hand. The taste of his saliva mixes with yours, and your thirst only grows.

It's three fingers now, and he slides much deeper in. It's hard to breath, almost impossible to think straight, but you concentrate all your will to keep standing on your knees and pray-pray-pray with your tongue for more. An experience transcending religious, as you give him your very soul.

Take everything, just let me...

A glint ignites in his eyes as you tilt your head back, and he presses his fingers into your mouth up to the knuckle. His lips part, and his eyes half-close in a languid expression of appreciation.

"My-my, such a good little thing." He pulls his fingers from you with a pop, wiping your spit across your cheek. The belt buckle unfastens with an iron clink. Nikto lets go of your wrists, but the other hand stays on your cheek.

You don't believe it right away, when he decides to just let you have him your way. Your fingers are extra slow as they slide up his shaft, feeling heavy veins even through the textile.

But Nikto encourages you, grinding himself slowly against your hands.

You've proven so good with your mouth, how can he deny you?

If you couldn't feel, couldn't see how hard he is, you would believe, the man above you is completely calm. His shoulders don't flinch when you place a soft kiss against glistening tip. A kiss, that grows into another and another and ends up stretching to a wet line leading to his base.

You shut your eyes, and part your lips, just as he showed you with his fingers. He tastes like sin, like the end of anything modest in you, like a lust itself. High above you, his lethal purr raises the hair on the back of your neck.

"Bloody... Your lips are dangerous."

Nikto sinks his fingers into your hair, controlling your head by the roots, sliding the velvet heat of his cock past your lips. He doesn't go all way, drawing a greedy whine out of you after he started to slide out slowly.

"Want more?" He pauses, still keeping you from taking more of him.

You nod with your mouth still full, and that gives him a second of an absolute perfect angle. Not letting you change anything in your pose accidentally, Nikto slides in one more time. He's still slow with this push, but this time you feel his hot tip with your throat.

Your eyes dart up and meet his gaze, fogged with desire. This must have some effect on him. With a hiss, he backs away a bit and lunges forward.

Before you tried this with him, the experience was always hectic, suffocating, painful. But Nikto loved to ease you little by little into relaxing, giving in to your own hunger, leaving your insecurities back. And now this pays off.

His breath grows ragged, each thrust accompanied by a dirty escapade leaving his lips. Drool slides down your chin with each movement of his hot flesh. Your eyes are wet with tears. It's not a pain - it's a pure bliss of having this beast so close.

He watches you spellbound. A feral, animalistic grin growing on his face.

His little treasure.

"Take it." A thrust harder than the previous ones.

His angel falling oh so gracefully for him.

"Take it." His cock pulses spreading warmth down your body, and you feel like your sex resonates with him.

His blessing. His everything.

"Take. it." His moves grow hastier. You're so full of him, but he wants more. He wants to give you more.

This man doesn't just indulge in your whim. He fucks you like he means it.

Umnitza. A glubzhe smozhesh? - Good job. Can you take them deeper?

[dwaekkicidal]

i need to get this out of my system bc of Jeongin's ATE images that dropped today (this is bc of a part on the video but im posting with the images bc fuck)

<800 words | gn!reader & oral (m receiving)

The sounds of slick, wet noises fill the room. Jeongin was leaning all the way back into the couch, legs spread wide as you sat perfectly between them and rested your hands on his thighs. His right arm was resting behind his head as the other rested on your nape, using his long fingers to stroke your cheek softly with his thumb.

"Jagiya-" His voice was low and raspy, hoarse almost. You lowered your head more, taking him impossibly deeper in your throat as you swallowed around him. The feeling of it pulled a whine from him as he struggled to hold his hips against the cushions, trying with all his might to not buck even farther into your throat and choke you.

Your eyes drag themselves up his body, taking in every detail of his outfit. Starting at the two-toned jeans that are opened and pulled down just slightly so you can touch him properly. Then onto the black shirt that is pulled halfway up his stomach, showing off his abs that rise and fall with each gasp of air into his lungs. The denim jacket that was previously covering him up is now dropping off his shoulder, showing off the muscles there that tense as he stretches down to touch your cheek so lovingly.

Then your eyes land on his neck, taking in the sweaty skin that glistens from the sunlight bleeding through the blinds. They trail up a few inches more and study his lips, the bottom lip is swollen and damp from the way he keeps taking it between his teeth. On your way up again, you catch a glimpse of the colorful band-aid on his cheek that's now loosening up from how hot and sweaty his skin has become. Your eyes finally halt at his. His foxlike eyes are lidded as he gazes into your eyes, having watched your expedition up his body. A single drop of sweat rolls down his temple as his lips part.

"F-Fuck. You really like this look that much? I'll take it- ah... I'll take it home with us." You flatten your tongue around him in contentment, more than happy with the idea and the moan it pulls from him. He watches in awe as you take one more good look at him before tilting your head down and bottoming out as far as you can go, your nose getting tickled by the trimmed hair on his pelvis.

The hand on your neck moves up to the top of your head, holding it in place as he throws his head back in a silent moan. You gag once and take everything in you to fight your gag reflex back, allowing you to swallow around him again. His hips twitch and you can tell he's on the edge so you suck harshly and allow a hand to move near your chin, taking a hold of his balls and massaging them Then you're rewarded for your efforts. His hips twitch and the hand in your hair pushes you down more as he moans loudly, combating those of a pornstar.

He holds you in place as he fucks your mouth softly, riding out his high and moaning loudly into the air. Once he finishes cumming down your throat, he pulls out slowly. He groans at the sight of you swallowing the few drops that are left in your mouth as you make eye contact with him, smirking and presenting your mouth to him to show that it's completely empty.

"You're a fucking menace." He laughs, still breathless from the mind-numbing orgasm. You smile and crawl up his body, finding comfort on his lap and allowing him to pull you into a kiss. His hands rake down your back and rest against your ass, squeezing the flesh there as he shoves his tongue past your lips. He squeezes the flesh there and moans against your mouth, "Thank you, baby. Let me repay-"

His phone rings obnoxiously loud and cuts him off, making him groan loudly and throw his head back. He mumbles curses as he reaches to grab his phone, frowning when he sees his manager's name pop up. Already knowing what that means, you tuck him back into his boxers and tug his jeans up a few inches, zipping them up and closing the metal button there as he talks. The phone is thrown on the couch and he pouts angrily, hands drawing circles into your thighs. "'Said they'll be back in 5 minutes to finish the photoshoot."

You giggle and place a kiss on the corner of his frown, "Don't worry about it, you can take care of me once we're at the hotel~"

[rebelumbrella46]

HOTD 2X02 "Rhaenyra The Cruel" Thoughts!

Green Side:

Aegon: Tom's performance as Aegon was exceptional, allowing me to sympathize with his character throughout the episode. I could deeply feel Aegon's pain and rage, especially in moments where he needed comfort and was denied. Alicent’s inability to provide motherly solace was striking; even Cersei, in all her madness, was a more nurturing mother. Aegon's inadequacies as a king are clear—he’s young and impulsive. One of the episode's standout scenes is Otto reprimanding him, realizing the monumental mistake he made in thinking Aegon could be controlled. Aegon will never be as pliable as Viserys. This parallels the frustration Daemon feels with Rhaenyra, who, ironically, exhibits the patience and indecision that mirror her father.

Otto: Otto is a character I love to hate, and the actor’s portrayal this episode was a highlight for me. His regret and frustration with Aegon’s choices were palpable, showing that karma is catching up to him. I also appreciated the subtle grief Otto displayed when speaking of Viserys, indicating a complex mix of respect and genuine care despite his actions. The scene where he dismisses Alicent’s attempt to seek solace was particularly telling—it highlighted a pattern where comfort is consistently denied, first to Alicent and then by her to Aegon.

Alicent: Alicent was insufferable this episode; I found it impossible to empathize with her. She continually makes the situation about herself, oblivious to her children’s suffering and unable to provide them with any comfort. As someone who has read the books and knows how her story ends, all i can say is that the Gods for more cruel that they are, wouldn't take it out on an innocent child for the crimes you have committed and in the end the punishment would be ten times worst.. a very fitting end if they decide to go for it.

Aemond: Aemond had a brief but significant moment where he confessed his feelings over the incident with Luke. This scene showed a level of remorse that sets him apart from Daemon, particularly in this episode. Aemond’s awareness of the pain his actions cause to others and the brewing rivalry between him and Daemon were well portrayed.

Helaena: Helaena, my poor sweet child, continues to be a character I deeply care for. She doesn’t seem to appreciate the public’s sympathy, as if she knows the whole situation is wrong. And knows these people could so easily turn on her, i'm pretty sure she saw it even. The citizens of King’s Landing have long been depicted as some of the most unsavory characters in the history of Westeros. Their actions and attitudes throughout the series often highlight their fickle and ruthless nature. This is why, every time I recall Daenerys burning the city, I find it difficult to muster any sympathy for them.

The brief encounter on the stairs, where Aegon denies her comfort, reinforces the pattern of emotional neglect seen throughout the episode.

Criston Cole: I have to give immense credit to the writers for their incredible work in depicting Criston Cole. With each episode, my hatred for this character grows exponentially. Kudos to the actor as well, who is doing a marvelous job. But honestly, every time Cole appears on screen, all I can think is: "How much longer until this guy meets his end? Hopefully, it's a very horrible one.". His manipulation of Arryk, sending him to his death, was disgusting.

What’s even more infuriating is Cole's blatant hypocrisy. He projects his own shame and regret onto others, acting as if he's on some moral high ground. His self-righteousness is maddening, especially given his own shady actions. I found myself wishing Otto would expose him in front of Aegon—reveal how, while Aegon's child was being murdered, Cole was with Alicent, another person whose hypocrisy drives me mad. (Like Aerys "the Mad King" kind of mad, wanting to see them both burn)

Despite showing guilt for his actions, he repeatedly makes the same mistakes. The only moment Alicent gained a bit of my appreciation was when she reminded Cole of his betrayal of Rhaenyra’s trust for his absolution last season.

i truly don't want to see anymore of Alicent and Cole intimate scenes.

The decision to name Cole as Hand of the King is a boon for Team Black, as he is likely to make poor decisions and counsel Aegon poorly, ultimately working in their favor.

Black Side:

Rhaenyra standing up to Daemon was a powerful moment. Their confrontation, though painful to watch, was necessary. Daemon’s actions have deeply wounded Rhaenyra, and his lack of remorse is entirely in character. His abrupt departure leaves Rhaenyra in a position where, despite knowing he loves her, she can no longer trust that he will remain by her side.

I'm interested to see what his reaction will be next episode when he finds out that Rhaenyra was almost killed on her bed right after he left her to deal with the consequences of his actions.

Rhaenyra’s concern and regret for Helaena were touching. I believe she would welcome Helaena if she ever chose to leave the Greens. However, I was uneasy about Rhaenyra sending Baela instead of Jace. While I understand her reluctance to risk her heir after losing a child, it felt dismissive of Baela's well-being, who we have to remember is still Rhaenyra's step-daughter.

Baela and Jace: The brief scene where Baela confesses her occasional hatred for Daemon was surprising but added depth to her character. Jace reminiscing about Harwin and Laenor was a nice touch, evoking memories of characters I miss, including Luke.

Rhaenys: As always, Rhaenys remains my favorite character on Team Black. Her knowing look at Daemon, recognizing that only he could have orchestrated such actions, was telling. The quiet moment between Rhaenys and Corlys, reflecting their mutual support despite not being Queen and King, contrasted sharply with the dysfunctional relationships of Viserys and Aemma, Viserys and Alicent, and even Rhaenyra and Daemon.

Mysaria: Mysaria was another highlight for me. Her decision to speak truth to Rhaenyra and return her kindness by saving her life suggests a budding alliance. Rhaenyra needs someone as cunning and insightful as Mysaria to advise her.

The Twins - Arryk and Erryk: The twins' final fight was heartbreaking. Although I wish we had seen more of them this season, their confrontation poignantly illustrated the perils of war and how it harms even those not directly involved in the conflict.

I’m looking forward to seeing Daeron, who was finally mentioned. I can’t help but think he might be the only salvageable son of Alicent, likely because he grew up away from her and Otto’s influence. I’d love to see more of Rhaena and am eager to meet characters like Hugh Hammer and Adam. The brief return of Seasmoke was a pleasant surprise—I missed seeing him too!

Overall, this episode was much stronger than the last.

Rest in peace little Jaehaerys.

P.S: Don't think i didn't see Visenya's and Vhagar's mention this episode, on the book Rhaenyra opens. My favorite Conqueror and targaryen woman. I cannot wait for The Conquest Prequel. So excited

[jusmango-shake]

That isn't very cash money of you, Cupid.

Pairing: 03!Donnie x Reader

Fictype: Songfic

Mood: fluff, crack(?)

WARNINGS: self deprecation, SSWEARING 😎, corny feelings Ew romance yucky, reader is in denial, mention of poison(metaphorically)

🥭: I'm SO SORRY FOR GOING OFFLINE FOR SO LONG, I hope y'all can accept this... (Totally not because I suddenly had a billion ideas for Don and had to write them xP)

★Stupid Cupid you're a real mean guy,

I'd like to clip your wings so you can't fly.

I'm in love and it's a crying shame..

And I know that you're the one to blame.

As you laid down on your bed, tossing and turning as you struggled to fall asleep. A faint glow of pink visible in the almost pitch black room.

You sat up, groaning while you rubbed your eyes. Taking your phone off of the desk it was currently charging on.

“Real dick move, brain.” you grumbled, looking at the current time.

12:45 PM.

You squinted, the light from your phone almost blinding as your eyes adjusted. The blush finally visible on your face.

Rereading your conversation with Donatello on the handy T-phone he so kindly gave to you, the corners of your lips curving up ever so slightly as you recalled your memories with the Purple Turtle.

He had been running rampant in your mind throughout the week, and you had been yet to catch him.

You sighed, laying back down as you faced the ceiling. You had to accept the fact you liked him sooner or later, why not be in denial for a bit longer?

★Hey hey, set me free!

Stupid Cupid stop picking on me.

Maybe it was because you had a thing for smart guys, or maybe it's because of his stupid dorky smile, maybe it was because he only had said smile whenever you were around, or maybe—

You blinked, burying your head into your hands as you groaned. Your friend looked at you with growing concern.

"You alright?"

You waved your hands dismissively,

“Yeah, I'm doing great.”

"You ssuureee?"

“i'm very much sure, thank you.”

"Maybe it's that Donatello guy you keep mentioning."

“shut up— no it isn't,”

Your friend has gotten increasingly closer to you, wiggling their eyebrows as they shoved you playfully.

“—Oookay maybe it is.”

"Tell me more?"

“no.”

★I can't do my homework and I can't think straight, I meet her every morning 'bout half past eight.

It wasn't very well hidden, practically everyone in your friend group knew something was up.

You'd randomly message them that you wouldn't be able to make to the hangout followed by some bogus explanation.

Sometimes when they made their way to your house they'd see you sneak off somewhere.

Once you'd almost been caught entering a manhole just to get to the lair, or to Donnie to be more specific.

You did not like it whatsoever.

★I'm acting like a lovesick fool, You've even got me carrying your books to school.

Conversation flowed smoothly as you helped Donnie carry some spare parts from the junkyard, he ranted about some machine he would make with said parts.

At this point you felt as if time itself had stopped, all you could hear was the sound of his voice echoing off the buildings as you two walked through the alleyway.

The road was quite crowded near the garage, it would've been impossible to get in without getting caught. Manhole it is I guess.

You hadn't even noticed that you've already arrived at the manhole cover.

You absentmindedly followed his figure and he knelt down to take off the cover, looking at you expectantly.

He cleared his throat before gesturing to the open manhole.

“wh— oh, uh.. my bad.” you murmured,

"I'll go down and you hand me the parts, sounds good?" He smiled, if only he knew the effect that had on you.

“..yeah.”

You watched as he placed the spare parts on the ground, then moved to go down the ladder.

Once he gave the signal you grabbed the bucket next to the hole, a rope tied to it so it would be easier to get stuff down if it was too heavy or big to get down normally.

You placed as many parts as you could fit in the bucket before grabbing the rope and slowly letting it down the long hole.

Once Donnie was done getting all the parts out he tugged lightly on the rope, letting you know he was done.

After repeating that process more times than you could count, you slowly ascended down the ladder. Once again carrying the spare parts while you made your way to the lair, Donnie humming some tune he heard while Mikey was watching the Television.

You didn't like how you could practically smell Donnie from how close you two were, maybe it was because he smelled like sewer or maybe it was because of the fact it made your heart race. Probably both anyway.

You nearly jumped out of your skin when he started talking.

"Hey, (Nickname)?"

“uh— yeah? What's up?”

"I just wanted to thank you for helping, it means a lot to me." He beamed up at you.

You looked away, already feeling the heat creeping up onto your face.

“Psh.. it's no Biggie, it's the least I could do as a... Friend.”

It hurt to say that, partially because it was true.

Donnie chuckled, nudging you playfully.

"Yeah, well, I'm glad to have you as a friend then."

That hurt even more, and this time, it's because he could never see you more than just a friend.

★Hey hey, set me free!

Stupid Cupid stop picking on me.

Your heart raced whenever you even just thought of him, and it broke just as fast. You knew deep down that he'd never like you back, (did you though?). if Cupid really did exist, he's cruel.

You clutched your beating heart as you hid behind a wall, trying your hardest to calm it down before going back to meet Donnie again.

All this from just grazing each other's hand? Maybe you really were pathetic, or maybe you're just touch starved. Could be both.

You knew Donnie was just sitting there watching TV, completely unaware of what power he had over you. You felt bad lying to him, you usually told him everything. But not this, it's not worth losing him over some feelings. Right?

★You mixed me up for good right from the very start.. Hey now, go play Robin Hood with somebody else's heart!

When you first met Donnie, it was like an arrow went straight through your heart. Maybe you're over exaggerating it, maybe.

It's like the arrow was laced with poison, slowly infecting every part of your body without you knowing it, and lastly, it infected your heart.

You always had a feeling you liked him from the start, maybe it was the fact you couldn't accept liking him more than just platonic liking.

It got harder and harder to push back down into the deep depths of your heart. The last straw was when it finally hit you straight in the face, you loved him. And you couldn't do anything about it, neither could you decide whether he'd reciprocate or not. It was killing you slowly, just like poison.

★You got me jumping like a crazy clown,

And I don't feature what you're putting down.

By no means did you think you even slightly deserved him, Donnie's a really sweet guy. He deserved more than some person who can't even come to terms with their own feelings.

Still didn't stop your heart from doing a backflip into a cartwheel into a handstand flat-back though.

Every time you saw him, your heart just decides to do a whole workout routine inside your chest, the butterflies in your stomach don't help either.

★Well since I kissed her loving lips of wine,

The thing that bothers me is that I like it fine~

Hey hey, set me free?

Stupid Cupid stop picking on me!

It did not give you any sense of pride to admit this but, on more than one occasion, you have fantasized about kissing Donnie. It embarrassed you to no end. (Stupid teenager hormones)

Maybe one day Cupid would decide to have mercy on you, and finally let you move on. Doesn't seem like he's going to, though.

Maybe for one day you could stop being such a weirdo for Donnie? Just for one day?

★You got me jumping like a crazy clown,

And I don't feature what you're putting down!

The fact that you always felt happier whenever you were just with him, even being in the same room could dramatically change your mood didn't help at all.

You hated always wanting to be near him, his entire existence feeling like a drug to you. Time always seemed to fly faster than when you weren't with him, you could never get enough of his rambles, anything he made amazed you, you hated it. You hated being in love.

And you hated the intense feeling of dread whenever you even thought of confessing to him, being rejected by all means was not on your to-do list. Neither was ruining your perfectly good best-friendship with Donnie.

★Well since I kissed his loving lips of wine,

The thing that bothers me is that I like it fine.

You got so caught up in your train of thought that you hadn't even considered the fact Donnie liked you back, maybe it's a defense mechanism set up by your brain so you couldn't dig an even deeper pit.

Donnie watched you do your homework as you fail to notice his longing, he's loved you for a long time already. But by his logic you would never like him back, who would wanna date a green sewer turtle? Living in the sewers is bad enough. What about being a mutant?

He quickly corrected an answer you had written down, his arm coming up from behind you to take a hold of your hand. He erased the previous answer and wrote the correct one.

He knew he couldn't hold your hand like this for too long or it'd be suspicious. Though the both of you craved each other's touch.

You were the only person who would actually listen to his rambling instead of just nodding along and pretending you were. You would ask questions that would spark new conversations, you came to him for answers. You looked for him when you needed help.

You genuinely enjoyed his ramblings. You enjoyed his company though he had nothing more to offer than just knowledge and machines he had made. He didn't even need to talk sometimes, you would just watch him do whatever he was doing. Offering help when he needed it.

Donnie only snapped out of it once you had begun waving in his face.

“—nnie, D? DonTron? Donatello? The turtle in purple? Donasaurus? Downtown Donsville?”

"Yeah—? Sorry I was- uh zoned out."

“could you help me with uh— number twenty five?” you scratched the base of your neck.

"Twenty five—? Didn't I already explain it to you? Like, eight times?"

You laughed sheepishly, turning around to face him.

What you expected was a look of disapproval. as much as Donnie loved explaining things, no one wants to repeat themselves. what you hadn't expected however, was that Donnie was actually much closer than you thought.

As soon as you turned around, you were met with Donnie's lips. You had accidentally kissed him.

As you pulled away, two fingers on your lips while your whole face flushed a shade of red.

Butterflies erupted in your stomach as you avoided Donnie's gaze like the plague, what if he hated it? What if he doesn't wanna be friends anymore?

Your thoughts were immediately shut up by Donnie clearing his voice.

"I'm sorry if this isn't the right time but— can we do that again.?"

Your eyes shot up to meet his and you took in the significantly darker shade on his face. You thought of what he'd looked like flustered, it was even better than you'd imagined.

“i— Yeah, I guess..?”

You held your breath in as he leaned in closer, your face scrunched up as you felt his breath fan over your face.

You peeked through one of your eyes when you felt him move away, a bashful expression mixed with a hint of sadness behind it on his face.

He scratched the back of his head awkwardly, glancing over at you.

"You don't have to do this if you don't want to, ya kno."

Shit— that's not-

Before you could think of anything else, it was like someone pressed autopilot in your mind.

You quickly spun around in the chair, extending your hands to his face. You gently cupped his cheeks as you leaned in,

Donnie's eyes opened in shock as he felt your lips softly kiss the edge of his lips, you had missed his mouth entirely.

You pulled away anxiously, your face heating up at the fact you completely ruined the moment by missing his lips.

Your eyes frantically searched his eyes, trying to catch some semblance of a hint that everything was fine and that Donnie doesn't hate you.

Unfortunately for Donnie, he was too dumbstruck and lovestruck to form a coherent sentence.

The only thing he managed out wasn't even a word, all he did was shoot out a lazy smile.

You sighed in relief, happy that at least he enjoyed it.

While you turned back around to continue doing your homework, you were interrupted by a familiar green hand.

"Maybe one more?"

★Hey hey, set me free

Stupid Cupid stop picking on me.

A few days afterwards, he finally confesses, and by confesses I mean he builds a robot out of spare parts to confess for him. Partially because he's too shy to do it himself and also because he wanted to impress you as well.

And after that was just a hazy blur of study dates and lovey dovey stuff, as Mikey so kindly put it.

You held Donnie's hand as you two watched the stars on top of a random building, you listened as Donnie pointed out every constellation he could see and facts about every star that was apart of each one.

"Did you know that Sirius is the brightest star we can currently see? With our bare eyes?"

You chuckled, gently caressing Donnie's hand with your thumb.

"But I'd have to disagree with it, yknow why?" He added, sitting upright as he gazed down lovingly at you.

“No, why?” you sat up as well, looking at him questioningly.

"Becauseee.. you're the brightest star I've ever seen." He grinned at you.

You grinned back, a light blush adorning both of your cheeks.

“You're such a cornball, Donnie.”

"Yeah, but I'm your cornball."

“Donnie!”

"What?"

You two laughed, smiling lovingly at eachother.

★Hey hey, set me free

Stupid Cupid stop picking on me.

[alwaysformike]

can i request where reader and michael are in rome in 1988 for the bad tour and they go to a museum on a little date and end up getting a little riled up in public because of michael's tedious tour schedule that prevents them from having any "sex time"?

ִֶָ𓏲࣪ 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐄, 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐄 🫐༉‧

in which tedious tour schedules force sweet sighs of bliss to fill the sound of people-filled museums.

content warnings: public sex, fingering, p in v, fem! reader, MICHAEL BEING SO SEXY???!

my first request omg??!!! 😣 okay anyways enjoy mls

THE SPRINGTIME AIR OF MAY FILLS YOUR NOSE, DRENCHING YOU IN A WARMTH NEVER FELT BEFORE. Cars zoom past, blowing your hair into your face. Your hand, wrapped thinly around your lover, squeezes.

You are glad people in Rome know how to mind their business, save for the couple of people that clearly don’t get the memo; you and Michael are alone for a reason.

Though, you will admit, you couldn't be sure if the feeling of eyes staring at you in every direction were any better than the constant clicking of paparazzi cameras.

"Well, my love, where to next?" The voice rings through your ears, sending that funny feeling to your tummy again. You blush slightly, ducking your head.

You and the former Jackson 5 member are out for a day on the town, exploring all there is to see in Rome. This, you think, may be the best part of Michael's fame; being able to tour the world with your love.

"Hm," you hum. Of course, it had its downsides, like the schedule that made it almost impossible to see him. "I heard there is a museum just a way down, perhaps we could go there?"

He grins down at you. "The fact you think you even have to ask is blasphemy."

There it was again, that fluttering feeling in your stomach that just would not go away. The two of you make your way down to the Museum, hands still interlinked like chains.

As you walk, it is impossible not to stare at him. Him, with his curly black hair fanning around his face. Him, with his dark eye's cautiously observing as you two cross the street.

It is a crime that you have became so lucky, a sin that he has ended up with you of all people. Because, truly, he was a piece of art that deserved to be in the Museum. Him, with his sharp and chiseled jaw, his lanky but tall figure, his long seductive fingers.

Him.

It is so unfair, the way he floats so gracefully, dancing around with a small quirk of his lips. Your breath catches in your throat.

"Michael." You whisper feebly. The museum was just up ahead, you could see the line following out through door.

"Hm?" He half-heartedly answers. His attention is on moving you through the crowd of people and into the Museum. No lady should stand in line for that long especially not his.

Your throat goes dry and suddenly words have escaped from your list of skills. Your brain, fuzzy and now blank. He pauses in his step, waiting for you to say something. Michael turns, looking at you . Your eyes are staring up at him, those big round eyes that could have any soldier fall to his knees and retreat in seconds.

He was the soldier and the heart was his battlefield.

"Doll?" He questions. It is unlike you to be so quiet, typically yapping about anything that remotely catches your interest.

Your breath hitches. You two are now inside the Museum, statues and paintings lining each wall. "Mike," you whisper. "Something is wrong."

It does not take more than a millisecond for Michael to have you in his arms, hugging you tightly. He cannot help but to worry. "Has something upset you, is the museum too small, was the line too long?" He is throwing questions after questions to you.

Your brain is still fuzzy and woozy, but you mange to peep from his arms and stare deep into his onyx eyes. "Michael, listen. Something is wrong with me."

That does not help. You are back in his thick arms once more, and he is questioning you again. You peel from his arms one last time. You glance up at him, then to his long and vein-covered fingers. Had he always been so sexy? Stupid question, of course he had.

There was something about not seeing him for weeks on end unless it was on stage that made you so feral, so weak in the knees. If it was possible, he looked so much more handsome. Small eyebags rested underneath his eyes but it did not take from his beauty, only added.

You realize now that you sre utterly fucked.

"Michael. Bathroom." You croak, nodding towards the restroom. In seconds the two of you are shoving into the family one and the door is locked behind you.

Michael is frowning, but you can tell he is slowly starting to understand your dilemma. "Need you," you whine out. A smirk unravels onto his face.

"Oh," he nods in understanding. "This is what had my pretty girl all worked up." You agree desperately, hands roaming his t-shirt covered chest.

His fingers wrap around your thighs, picking you up and setting you on the sink. Within seconds his lips are hungrily fighting yours. They dance, a tango of dangerous lust. His hand comes up to hold your jaw, forcing your mouth open so his tounge can slide into your mouth.

You grunt into the kiss. He pauses, pulling away. "Patience, love." You whimper at that, grinding onto the sink.

You would look back and cringe at that, you were sure, but for now, you were desperate. So utterly desperate for anything. You can feel a pool begin to clog your lacy panties. His fingers wander down, they are snakes that slither their way to your garden of eden. Your breath comes out in panted huffs as the snakes constrict your thighs, squeezing with a pain so lustful.

"Michael." You beg. "Please."

"Well, if you insist." He rolls his eyes, bringing his breath closer to your heat. In seconds, the snakes that were once his hands is now his tongue, twisting and twirling around your aroused clit.

You moan, hips rolling against his face. Your hands are white from gripping the sink. He pulls away lustfully and you whine. "Not enough."

He frowns, wiping his face off. "You really are the prettiest idiot, hm, doll? You really think i'm that cruel as to leave my sweet baby so needy, all alone?"

Your doe-eyes peak up at him, and they shine with words you will not say; "but mike, you would do that."

Michael Jackson was infamous for teasing. It'd be no surprise for him to leave you in the dust once again. But after weeks, almost months, of barely seeing him, you know he needs it just as bad as you do.

His mouth is back on you now, and its twisting and twirling everywhere you need. He sucks on your clit, holding there for a couple seconds. Your voice is resonating through the restroom, and reaches it's peak when he pinches your clit with his long fingers.

It hurts so good, and you whimper once again when he pulls away. He chuckles cruelly, turning you into the sink so you can see your fucked out face. Your pigtail braids with bows, now messily drenched with sweat.

"Mike, hurry." You whine.

"God," he groans, unbuckling his fancy pants. "You're so fucking needy. My little needy girl."

He's shoving inside you in a mere second, no room for preparation. It hurts, his thick and veined cock just being pushed into you; though, you don't wuite mind.

Your pretty eyes roll back. Hes moaning into your ear and it's all too much—not seeing him, being so public, your smeared lipstick from all the smooching.

Pleasure hits you like a wave on the ocean, your toes curling in your pretty little mary-janes, hands white from gripping the sink. You feel your orgasm push over you and he presses your cheek into the mirror, letting you watch how his hips snap vigorously into you.

The raw and slutty sound of him over-stimulating you until he finally releases with a grunt is overpowering.

You spend a couple minutes cleaning up. "So good for me, lady-bug. Good girl." He whispers to you sensually, his big hand cupping your cheek.

The two of you exit, eyes widening as the sight of a line fills your vision. A woman is in front of you, her face pulled back in both anger and digust.

"Get a room!" She mutters. As you two walk away, giggling, she yells again. "And not the restroom!"

You and Michael make eye-contact, giggling once again and continuing on your museum date—though you spend the rest of it limping—.

masterlist

[bacchuschucklefuck]

Can you expand on what you mean by Baron being "too cool" to really fit a horror monster? It's a very interesting concept and I'd love to hear your thoughts. Is it that they're too active/involved/tangible and it detracts from their scariness?

I feel like I should preface this with a wall of disclaimers lmao 1/I am a hardcore, down-to-the-marrow, avid, deeply sincere horror enthusiast, esp. horror creatures. this usually means my mileage is vastly different from the average populace's, and my scaredy bone has been disintegrated by longterm exposure. most things in a piece of horror media won't scare me! so I practically never use that on its own as the scale to talk abt horror experiences, but when something does scare me it's always a special occasion to be treasured. 2/canon d20 is never really meant to be horror horror, and for good reasons: it doesn't fit the company's output, it takes a kind of carelessness in production estimation that is always a huge risk, it's often vulnerable in a way that kinda goes against how TTRPGs usually facilitates vulnerability, and for most people it's just! stressful! d20, even with the "horror-themed" seasons, generally just plays with horror tropes and stays focused in its goal of being a comedy improv tabletop theater show. 3/fantasy high's chosen system is DnD, which as I've mentioned before is before all a combat-based game system, which means the magic circle of play is drawn based on stats that facilitate and prioritize combat. want or not this affects every interaction you have in the game, and given fantasy high's concept from the ground up (everyone's going to school of DnD stuff to get better at DnD) it's doubly relevant. 4/This Is Fine I have no quarrel with this. my meters are internal, I do not ask this show to be anything it doesn't advertise itself to be, and what it is is fucking great! I like it! when I expand on this ask's question it will be like a physicist going insane in a lab. that's the mindset we're going in with.

disclaimers done. my stance on horror as a genre is that it's a utility genre rather than a content genre or a demographic genre; it is the discard of narratives. it's the trash pile. horror, above being scary, is about being ugly and messy, it's the cracks on the ground any story inevitably steps over to stay a genre that isn't horror. the genre's been around long enough to develop a codex and a general language that medias and makers and enthusiasts of the genre can use to talk about and build onto, but if you go into individual pieces there's really no unifying Horror Story. one person's beautiful life can be another's horror story, it's just how it is.

this makes The Monster a deeply intriguing piece of the genre. thing is a monster is in a decent percentage of any story - it's just when the antagonist force steps into something past a certain line traced out in the story's world. monstrousness is in pretty much every western fantasy story, it's in any story with a hero and something to vanquish or win; more than anything it's a proxy of that thing up there. the line in a narrative's world. the monster is the guard of the unknown lands, where heroic, civilized people don't tread.

what does this mean in the context of horror? the genre is about that perceived lawlessness, that "unknown land" so to say. we're in the monster's home. that's the literary context that we often walk into a horror piece with; the monster knows more than you about where you are. it may not understand you, but it holds more information than you, and with that it moves swifter than you, has more covered than you, and is more assured in its existence in this context than you. it's a struggle to catch up to it, it's nigh impossible to get one over it, and you're never sure it'll 100% work, because you just don't have the information necessary to.

with that framing you can kinda see where I'm coming from here: horror's often about the breaking of rules. I always think a monster's most effective when it breaks well-established rules of both existence and visual storytelling. think Possum (2018) or Undertale's Omega Flowey or the Xenomorph Queen - unique change in medium, unique change in graphic, unique change in design language, etc. in that sense I actually really like how canon baron plays out: they don't really function like anything else in the fantasy high universe, the bad kids have not managed to kill them when they've felled literal gods, their domain in fhjy literally introduces new mechanics to encompass their existence! from an experience design standpoint they slap mad shit. BUT! I can't help finding their character, like as a character riz (and the other bad kids, eventually) interact with, to be very... coherent? in design. this is kinda hard for me to articulate in words, it's more often a sense you get once you've looked at enough of these scrumptious fuckers, their general design and the way they show up is just kinda too clean, so to say. always kinda newly made? fresh unboxed. it, once again, makes sense for their lore - they are looking for more about themself from riz - and their function - they're an antagonist in a game experience, they're meant to be interacted with in a way that produces results and meshes with the existing magic circle - but that shininess takes away from the implied history they should have dominion over and the person they're haunting doesn't.

from another angle there is kinda something there about how put-together canon baron is as a concept; the domain they call home is riz's deep-seeded fears, extremely vulnerable things he's drawn borders around to quarantine and refused to walk into. things that from his perspective would irreversibly shatter certain pleasant fictions his world is built on top of. canon baron, While Extremely Cool, I feel is kinda too neat to connect with and signify the apocalyticized mess that'd result from this paradigm shift. the part where they're in riz's briefcase and looking through every mirror is Very Cool And Fucked Up! but ultimately the show draws a line around them as well, by making game-physical, tangible spaces they're in (the mirrors and the haunted mordred manor) and put riz and the bad kids there only when they need to confront stuff. riz is meaningfully narratively away from baron's unknown land for most of fantasy high.

with that and all of my disclaimers in mind my conclusion here is if canon baron wants to be a Horror Monster they'd have to cross way more lines. be a Lot more invasive. hence (holds up my class swap baron like a long cat)

[ofthealaura]

The Tower: is it really a "bad" card?

There is a scene in the first Frozen movie (from Disney) that reminds me of The Tower card. I know, I know; it's Frozen. That shit is a Disney movie. How does it relate to tarot in ANY way, let alone The Tower? Well, let me explain!

Remember this scene: Anna and Kristoff are both trying to find their way to Elsa's castle. They find one of their first obstacles, a 500-ish foot mountain that is impossible to walk up. Yall remember that? Anna is all confident and bullshitting around, saying, "oh yeah I can climb this EASY." But Kristoff doesn't believe her. Anna decides she'll climb up anyway, so foolishly, she starts to grip the rocks and pull herself up. Eventually, and very quickly, she gets too tired to climb any longer and falls back into Kristoff's arms. All hope seems to be lost- but then Olaf says some shit like, "uhh... GUYS. There's a staircase RIGHT. HERE. Made of ice, but you should PROBABLY use this instead of risking an untimely death." Anna, Kristoff, Olaf, and Sven make their way up the staircase and continue their journey.

You are probably still confused. Keep that scene in mind while I give you MY definitions of the tower.

"The way you are trying to move through this situation (rock climbing) is a bad idea, and could lead to more harm than good (literal death from falling off the mountain). Take some time to think and search for a different way out (the staircase). Trust that the universe (Kristoff) and your intuition (Olaf) will help you."

Alternatively,

"Shit's about to go down (you are falling off the mountain), but it's for the better. While you might feel like you're dying, you'll be okay in the end (Kristoff catching you). Don't sulk around and wallow in your own self pity; if there's a will, there's a way (staircase)."

Do you guys see what I'm getting at here? In my decks, the tower is usually pictured with people falling off of it (MOUNTAIN). It's also said that the tower completely destroys your life or a situation (YOU are falling off the mountain), but it's not the end of the world (dying), because it's done for the better (you survived because someone caught you). Now, it's your job to pick yourself back up and grow again (finding the staircase).

In conclusion, I don't believe the tower is a bad card. I don't believe ANY tarot card is "bad". If yall want me to compare more cards to Disney movies, let me know- or feel free to send an ask requesting a card or a movie. Anyway yeah that's all!!!!

[alexturner2005]

just worked my last shift 🥳 it’s very weird to be closing a six year chapter of my life

[panicbones]

but anyways getting a mean ex/former friend into a series ur super into and then they become rly popular in that space is a very special sort of torture

[phoenixcatch7]

What I'd really love to see is a svsss au where shen yuan had the immense powers from saiki k.

Like, svsss is already a romcom of a guy shunted into a fantasy world with meta knowledge and immense power for no reason apart from 'make a happy ending' as a fairly thick veneer over an absolute hot mess of a tragedy with a happy ending, red flags galore, complete with a protagonist completely removed from the concept of romance and resigned to his fate of being abandoned by the people around him because of the circumstances he was 'born' into, but he's funny about it.

The disastrous life of saiki k is a fast paced crack comedy about a guy granted immense power for no reason with meta knowledge of the world as a thick veneer over something a little darker and traumatic with a happy ending, complete with a protagonist completely removed from the concept of romance and resigned to being ignored by the people around him because of the circumstances he was born into, but he's hilarious about it.

Now I don't think it should be a 1-1 transplant of saiki to the svsss world, but to imagine an sy with those powers who didn't manage to find loyal friends, who moved out to live alone as soon as possible to avoid issues with his powers, who gravitated to web novels because of their regular updates as opposed to being constantly spoiled for books with finished endings. An sy who despite his ridiculous levels of power died alone in a stupid way and woke up in a world filled with people who also had immense and varied powers, dealing with the prospect of immortality when his own powers are still constantly growing and interfering with his life, but be silly about it.

I want to see a sy with telepathy still failing to understand what lbhs deal is because of his own denial, a sy with the power to crush mountains with a finger trying not to blow down walls with a sneeze because someone put him on a mountain FILLED with plants in SPRING, an sy who deleted an entire country from the planet aged four trying to dodge overly enthusiastic maidens he keeps saving because he doesn't want to steal from the protagonist and also no, lady, please. Shen yuan sitting in the water prison absolutely deadpan as people try and scare him with 10 iq stories about the acid waterfalls. An sy who hares around the peak trying to avoid being spotted on valentines day as he redirects unwanted admirers and improves his disciples dates just so they can all have a good day.

An sqh who really, honestly truly doesn't know how pidw was made real, honest!! All he could do was see ghosts! It's not his fault the story he wrote to make rent turned into all of this!! But because you're here can you pretty please make some ice, I'm in desperate need of air con and my king hasn't showed up in weeks!

Sqq and sqh playing telepathic chess during boring meetings and sqq leaving him to suffer when sqh is asked a question even though he himself knows the answer.

Lbh trying everything to get shizuns attention and discovering his total weakness to his cooking. Like, will let you cheat in class levels of bribery.

Sqq stalking dourly through fields of aphrodisiac plant because he's raised his body temperature high enough to burn out any pollen before it gets too close and the system just despairing at getting this man to do something interesting.

Cat!sqq transforming back as fast as he can because he's got a meeting in half an hour and having to rush around trying to find something to cover the cat ears he didn't manage get rid of.

Shen qingqiu pulling out his limiters and dropping the mask to reveal a deity in the shape of a man, something crafted purely of psychic energy and burning fury, determined to hold maigu ridge together and keep the realms apart with his will alone, to save luo binghe if it killed him again. A shining aura stretching miles, glowing like a star, halting the earthquake with his bare hands.

Sqq seeing a bug and freaking out so hard he teleports to the northern demon realm and lands in a slushy pond, and sqh nearly giving him away because of how hard he's laughing.