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pucksandpower · 1 day

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Say My Name

Oscar Piastri x streamer!Reader

Summary: when fans mistake Oscar for your ex while he is hanging around in the background of your stream, you get introduced to a side of Oscar that you’ve never seen before

Warnings: 18+ content

Your fingers fly across the keyboard as you narrate the intense battle unfolding on your stream. “Oh damn, that was close! I almost got sniped there.” You lean in, eyes narrowed at the screen. “Gotta be more careful or this round is over.”

The chat explodes with messages cheering you on. Being one of the top female gaming streamers has its perks, like an incredibly loyal fanbase that hangs on your every word.

You glance at the viewer count — over 50,000 watching live. Not too shabby.

“Okay team, let’s rush B, I’ll try to draw their fire.” You move your character into position, heart pounding with anticipation.

Suddenly, a quiet thump comes from the living room behind you. You start, whipping your head around, but see nothing amiss through the open doorway. Must have been your imagination.

You refocus on the game, calling out tactics to your teammates. Another muffled sound, like something soft hitting the floor, catches your attention. You turn off your video and hit mute on your mic. “Hello? Is someone there?”

No response. You’re just about to unmute when a very familiar face pops into view from the hallway. It’s your boyfriend of nearly two years.

Your face splits into a huge grin as you take in his messy hair and the rumpled clothes he slept in on the flight. “Oscar! You’re back early!”

He crosses to you, bending to press a kiss to the top of your head. “Missed you,” he mumbles against your hair.

You tilt your face up for a proper kiss, “I missed you too, ba-”

But you’re cut off as his lips crash into yours, insistent and heated. Heat blooms in your cheeks at the sudden, passionate embrace. Far too soon, Oscar pulls away, leaving you flustered and breathless.

“Sorry,” he says with a smirk that suggests he’s anything but. “Couldn’t help myself.”

You shake your head, laughing. “You’re ridiculous. I’m working, you know.”

“So I noticed.” Oscar settles onto the couch just off-camera, casual as can be. “Don’t mind me, keep going.”

“You sure?” You eye him skeptically. The stream has been on a short period without your commentary and the chat is getting restless. “I can take a break if you want.”

He waves a dismissive hand. “No, no, I’m just going to hang out here for a bit. Go ahead.”

Hesitating only a moment, you turn your video back on and unmute your mic. “Alright folks, sorry about that little pause. I, uh, got a surprise visitor.” You gesture vaguely toward where Oscar lounges behind you.

The chat instantly lights up with questions about who was there. Smiling to yourself, you ignore them for now, re-focusing on the game.

Over the next hour, it becomes increasingly difficult to concentrate. Oscar keeps distracting you, making silly faces and gestures whenever you glance his way. More than once you have to stifle a laugh after catching sight of him. Your fans seem to find your giggly mood delightful, though they remain oblivious to the cause.

Finally, in a rare break between matches, you swivel in your chair to face him. “You’re being so disruptive,” you stage-whisper. “Don’t you have better things to do than pester me?”

Oscar feigns innocence. “Who, me? I’m just sitting here, love.”

Rolling your eyes, you stretch your arms overhead with a groan, back popping from sitting so long. Oscar’s gaze shamelessly rakes over you, darkening.

“Stop looking at me like that,” you mutter, fighting a smile.

“Like what?” His eyes glint with mischief.

You open your mouth to respond, but a new donation notification pops up on your stream, cutting you off. “Oh, wow, thanks for the ten thousand bits, Legend27!” The expensive donation isn’t that unusual, but the comment attached gives you pause.

I’m so happy you and Eric made up! You two are couple goals for real.

Frowning, you scan the new barrage of messages flooding the chat … and find dozens echoing similar sentiments.

Your stomach drops as you finally realize what your viewers think is happening. They assume Oscar is actually your ex, the one you briefly dated and had an awful breakup with over two years ago. Apparently his surprise appearance has led them to believe you two have reconciled.

Heat floods your face at the misunderstanding. Objecting seems pointless though — you’ve learned it’s better not to discuss your private romantic life on stream. “Ah, thanks guys, you’re too kind,” you finally say, aiming for a neutral tone.

Beside you, Oscar stiffens, catching the implications of the messages. His jaw clenches and you watch as his face cycles through a series of micro-expressions — first surprise, then confusion, quickly followed by displeasure and … jealousy?

Uh oh. This could get messy fast if he gets worked up. You try to subtly shake your head at him in a silent plea to ignore the chat.

No such luck. His brow furrows deeper and you can practically see the tension ratcheting up in his shoulders.

Suddenly, Oscar surges to his feet with a muttered curse. Before you can react, he’s stalking around the side of your chair until he’s directly in view of the camera’s frame.

“Oscar, what are you-”

But he cuts you off by cupping your face in his hands and kissing you hard. Your startled squeak is smothered by his fierce, possessive mouth moving over yours.

Powerless to resist the onslaught of sensations, you melt bonelessly against him as the kiss stretches on and on. Only the escalating number of notifications showing the shock and exclamations from your viewers finally breaks through the heady fog.

With extreme reluctance, Oscar ends the kiss, both of you panting. He keeps his face buried in the crook of your neck, lips brushing your flushed skin as he growls, “She’s mine.”

Then, before you can respond, he reaches past you and slams his palm into the power button of your streaming setup, shutting everything down.

The simultaneous howl of outrage from tens of thousands of confused fans cuts off abruptly as the screen goes black. Only the two of you are left in the ringing silence that follows.

“Oscar!” You finally manage. “What was that?”

He pulls away enough to meet your wide-eyed gaze, his brown eyes blazing with an intensity that steals your breath.

“I got … jealous,” he admits, seeming almost surprised at his own vehement reaction. “When they thought I was your ex. I didn’t like that at all.”

Your expression softens at his uncharacteristic show of vulnerability. Reaching out, you trace his sharp cheekbone with gentle fingers. “You have no reason to be jealous, silly man. It’s only ever been you.”

Some of the blazing heat in his stare banks into smoldering embers at your reassurance. “Yeah?” A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. “Good.”

He leans in again until his lips are a hairsbreadth from yours. “Because you’re mine, okay? And I’m yours.”

“Yeah,” you breathe out, dizzy with wanting him. “I’m all yours, Oscar.”

The possessive words seem to flip a switch in him. With a low, rumbling sound of approval, his mouth slants over yours once more in a searing, demanding kiss that makes your toes curl.

The abrupt ending to your stream is already causing a social media firestorm of epic proportions. But surrounded by the circle of Oscar’s arms, his familiar warmth and love, you can’t find it in yourself to care even a little bit.

After all, you think dizzily as he deepens the kiss, your fans should have recognized that you two were a couple from the very start — because Oscar Piastri is most definitely not your ex.

He’s your everything.

***

Oscar’s hands are everywhere, seemingly unable to get enough of you as his kisses grow more and more fervent. Your back hits the wall with a gentle thump as he crowds closer, caging you in with the solid warmth of his body.

“Missed you so much, love,” he rasps against the heated skin of your neck. “Couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

A whimper escapes your lips at the scorching path his mouth blazes over your pulse point. “I m-missed you too, Oscar.”

His name falls from your lips like a prayer and he rewards you by sucking a mark into the sensitive spot just below your ear. Pleasure zings along your nerves at the hint of delicious possession in the act.

When he finally pulls back to gaze at you with dark, hooded eyes, his lips are reddened from enthusiastic use. The sight sends a molten flare of desire arrowing straight to your core.

“Say it again,” he commands roughly, voice gone low and gritty in that way that never fails to make you melt.

You blink up at him, momentarily lost in a lust-fueled haze. “W-What?”

“My name.” His large hands skim over the curve of your waist, bunching the fabric of your shirt. “Say my name again.”

“Oscar,” you breathe without hesitation, watching raptly as his pupils blow wider at the sound. “Oscar, Oscar, Oscar ...”

Each breathy iteration seems to stoke his hunger hotter. His fingers flex against your sides like he’s holding himself back from something.

On a daring whim, you slant your mouth near his ear, letting your lips brush the shell with every word. “Oscar Piastri,” you practically purr. “My Oscar.”

A broken groan is your only warning before he’s on you again, mouths crashing together in a heated crash of lips, teeth, and tangling tongues. His hand comes up to cup the nape of your neck, angling your face for deeper exploration.

When you finally manage to tear your lips away, you’re both panting harshly, chests heaving. “What’s … gotten into you?” You pant.

Rather than answer, Oscar just shakes his head and dives back in for more fervent kisses, like a man dying of thirst and you’re the most delicious drink he’s ever tasted.

It’s not until he suddenly grips your waist and spins the two of you around, depositing you on the desk with a surprising lack of finesse, that you realize just how wildly affected he is.

Oscar licks into the seam of your lips like he’s staking a claim and something within you shatters at the stark, naked wanting in his eyes when he pulls back the tiniest bit.

He just stares at you, chest heaving, gaze roving hungrily over your features like he’s memorizing you all over again. His pupils are blown wide, just thin rings of molten brown remaining around the black.

When he speaks, his voice is low and gravelly in a way that vibrates through you. “Say. My. Name.”

“Oscar,” you respond immediately, not even having to think. His hungry gaze burns over you and you feel stripped bare and vulnerable under the weight of it.

But rather than make you want to cover up, it has the opposite effect — you’re reeling him in, hands fisted in his shirt to pull him closer. You never want this delirious, frantic sense of possession and desire to end.

“Again,” he grinds out, sounding utterly wrecked already.

“Oscar.” You bare your neck for him as you say it, like presenting an offering. He groans low and deep, instantly ducking to mouth along the column of your throat.

His hands are everywhere, pushing up the hem of your top, kneading along your sides and ribs as he nips and sucks bruising paths across your collarbones and chest.

“Don’t stop saying it,” he orders, more plea than demand.

So you let his name become a breathless prayer falling from your lips, over and over between gasps and keening whimpers. You lose yourself in a heady feedback loop — the more you speak his name with naked wanting, the wilder it seems to drive him until his touch grows scattered and devouring.

At some point his hands finally succeed in tugging your shirt up and off. Your name doesn’t even register when his scorching mouth closes over one peaked bud, your back bowing at the shuddering bolt of sensation that lances through you.

All you can seem to process is the feel of his calloused palms mapping every inch of newly-exposed skin and the desperate mumble of “Oscar, Oscar, Oscar ...” spilling shameless and endless from your lips.

Eventually, the heated exploration of his mouth and hands becomes too much to simply lay there and take. With a low, guttural sound you haul Oscar upright and swing your legs around his hips, relishing his full body shudder.

“Not enough,” you accuse roughly, rolling your core against his in clear invitation. “Need you closer, Oscar.”

His heated groan at your wanton demand is music to your ears. Strong hands grasp your thighs to hitch your legs higher around his waist as he surges against you.

“So impatient, my darling girl,” he teases. This close, you can make out the faintest brush of freckles scattered over the bridge of his nose and cheekbones that you’ve mapped and memorized with lips and fingertips a hundred times before.

You can’t help but reach out to graze them with your thumb, gazing up at him with naked adoration. “My Oscar,” you murmur reverently.

His eyes slip shut for a beat, jaw ticking as if your words have an unexpectedly profound effect on him. When he opens them again, his gaze is fierce and intent.

“Yours,” he vows simply, leaning in to seal the promise against the plush of your lips.

The kiss is somehow softer and headier than before. You get lost in the lush glide of his mouth, every sliding brush of lip and tongue shorting out whatever rational thoughts remain until all you know is his name — the shape and taste and weight of it against your own.

It’s the only thing that seems real, vital, until at some point Oscar’s mouth leaves yours to trail hot, openmouthed kisses down your chest and stomach and lower still.

Your back bows as you squirm incoherently against the press of his lips and tongue. His restraint seems to have finally snapped, movements growing hungry and rough as he works you steadily higher.

“Oscar,” you sob out his name like you’re breaking apart, pleading for something you can’t quite name. He answers with a rumbling sound of satisfaction that vibrates hotly against your sensitized flesh.

More, is all you can think as he redoubles his efforts.

At some point, you must have arched helplessly off the desk because suddenly his hands are at the small of your back, fingertips digging in hard as he holds you arched for his questing mouth.

The intimate angle of his positioning has your jaw dropping open on a silent scream of overwhelmed pleasure. All that escapes is a strangled gasp of, “Oscar!”

He growls something incoherent against you that might be praise, might be reassurance, might just be your name groaned out roughly in shared bliss. But you honestly can’t tell anymore — you’ve transcended far past coherent speech and rational thought.

Everything has devolved into just sensation and feeling and the endless loop of his name spilling over and over from your lips like a benediction.

Oscar, Oscar, Oscar ...

Just when you think you might actually shatter into pieces from the intensity he’s wringing out of you, strong hands are abruptly hauling you up and off the desk in one smooth motion.

You cling to him with heavy limbs, burying your face in the crook of his neck as he staggers the few steps to your shared bedroom. At some point his shirt has vanished, allowing your hands free rein to roam over flexing muscle and heated skin.

When the backs of his legs hit the edge of the mattress, he pauses to claim your mouth in another searing, shattering kiss. He whispers something fervent and intense against your lips, your name perhaps intertwined with endearments or promises.

You can’t be sure. All you know is the shape of his name against your tongue, the only word your mind seems capable of holding onto as he lowers you reverently to the sheets and stretches out over you.

When he finally sinks into you with a harsh groan of relief, your back bows and you let out a broken, high keen — his name once more torn from your lips in breathless ecstasy.

“There you are, that’s it love,” he growls hoarsely as he begins to move, words interspersed between drugging, thorough thrusts. “Let me hear you, let me hear my name on those pretty lips.”

So you do, shamelessly loud and incoherent now as he gradually unravels you from the inside out. His name and gasped pleas and frantic praise all blur together in a continuous stream of blissful delirium.

At some point, his own control seems to splinter apart, hips snapping hard and deep as his pace turns utterly unrestrained. Still, you chase that shattering edge, crying out for Oscar as your whole world narrows to the merciless intensity of his driving thrusts and demanding hands kneading your flesh with staking ownership.

When you finally go soaring over that dizzying peak with his name torn hoarse from your throat, he follows you over almost violently with a ragged shout. Oscar’s arms shake dangerously as he holds his weight off of you, pupils swallowing up the copper of his eyes entirely in onyx pools of spent lust.

As you slowly float back down from that searing high, limbs heavy and sated, you reach up to trace the sharp line of his cheekbone. He turns his face into your palm with a shuddering exhale as if grounding himself.

For several long breaths, all that can be heard is your shaky inhales mingling together while your racing heartbeats gradually return to normal.

Finally, Oscar presses a warm, lingering kiss to the center of your palm before shifting to stretch out beside you, his weight dipping the mattress.

You immediately curl into the reassuring heat of him, despite the sweat still cooling along your skin. One of his arms bands around your waist, holding you flush against his side while his other hand comes up to card soothingly through your hair.

Nestling your face into the curve where his shoulder meets his neck, you press a gentle kiss to the hollow of his throat and whisper, “Hi.”

“Hi yourself,” he murmurs back, low and slightly scratchy in the aftermath. You can hear the smile in his voice as his fingers keep carding idly through your hair.

Silence falls again, comfortable and peaceful in the aftermath of your frantic passion, both of you simply basking in the warmth of shared nearness.

Eventually though, the question you’ve been avoiding asking slips out in a hazy murmur. “What brought all … that … on, Oscar?”

He’s quiet for so long, you begin to wonder if he fell asleep. Just when you’re about to shift to look at him though, he speaks up.

“When your fans assumed I was your ex … the way they were celebrating that the two of you got back together ...” His fingers stroke almost absentmindedly through your hair as he pauses. “I dunno, something in me just .. .snapped a little. Seeing them say over and over how perfect he was for you ...”

He trails off with a low chuckle, and you can’t resist craning your neck to glance up at him curiously. When your eyes meet his, his expression is rueful.

“I couldn’t stand the thought of any other name on your lips, love. Even your own.” His fingertips trace the line of your jaw with unbearable tenderness. “All I wanted was for you to say my name like that — like it’s the only word that matters in the entire world.”

Just like that, a fresh ember of want rekindles low in your belly at the slightly awed honesty in his voice. You exhale a shaky breath, searching his stormy gaze for … what? Evidence of how crazily affected you are by such a simple revelation?

Whatever he finds reflected in your stare seems to give him pause as well because his eyes almost immediately darken with renewed hunger.

“Say it again then,” he husks, rolling until he’s leaned over you, hands planted on either side of your head. There’s no demand in the words, just low, thrumming need thrilling between you both.

So you reach up to cup his face in your palms, rubbing your thumbs over the sandpapery stubble along his strong jawline as you gaze adoringly up at him.

“Oscar ...” you breathe out his name like a sacred invocation. “My Oscar.”

His eyes slip shut and he makes a low, ragged sound of pure satisfaction on an exhale that ghosts across your lips.

“Yeah,” he rasps, bending lower until his forehead rests against yours. “That’s it, love … that’s all I ever want to hear.”

You pull him back down to you then, unable and unwilling to resist sealing the promise of those words against his lips with your own.

And as everything inevitably dissolves into heat and need and formless ecstasy once more, you lose yourself to the endless chant of his name on your lips — your entire world whittled down to just that one exalted word, over and over and over.

Because really, what other name could ever matter when Oscar Piastri is the only name you’ll ever need?

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tightjeansjavi · 3 months

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The Rite of Movement | part one

“honeymoonin’”

part two | first impressions

A/N: I ehm. May or may not have gotten the inspiration for this bc of a porn channel that I watch 🫣 this is not proofread btw! P.S this is my smutty little treat for y’all b4 I drop chapter 11 of slow hands 🥲

~word count: 1k~

Summary: the morning after your honeymoon with your pornstar husband, Joel Miller

Pairing | pornstar!husband! Joel Miller x pornstar!female reader

Warnings: smut, NSFW, mentions of the porn industry, fluff ,established relationship, husband!joel, intimacy, bush love!!, 30’s reader/40’s Joel , oral (f!receiving) Joel has a big cock (canon) silly vibes, sex tape, pet names, reader has no physical descriptions, +18, minors dni!

You and your husband Joel Miller met through the porn industry. The first time you met him before you were set to film together you were immediately hooked by his southern charm. “Well, hello gorgeous. Ain’t you jus’ the sweetest, n’prettiest thing I’ve ever had the pleasuring’ of layin’ my eyes on. Goddamn. Names Joel, and what might your name be, darlin?’” You told him your name and shook hands. After that initial meeting..You kept things professional, but everytime you did a film with him, your pussy and your heart would flutter. You had never said yes faster in your life than when Joel requested to take you out to dinner one night after a late shoot. Burgers, fries, a milkshake for two, and Joel Fuckin’ Miller’s big cock, and his Texas twang.

Once you and Joel officially started dating, you started your own porn channel together and your videos were a hit. The intimacy and chemistry on camera was never faked, and there was real love blossoming between the two of you. People loved it. There was something about casual, real intimacy that really got your viewers going.

The money earned on the films went straight to buying you an enormous rock to put on your pretty finger. Joel spoiled you in every aspect, and you were over the moon when he asked you to be his wife.

One impromptu wedding in Vegas later, Pornhub paid for your entire honeymoon to the Fiji Islands.

In the middle of the king sized bed was a gift directly from Pornhub with a new camera, toys, lube, and a congratulations letter from some of yours and Joel’s fellow adult filmmakers.

You put that camera to good use immediately.

The following morning you awoke to an empty bed, but a note left on the dresser in your husbands penmanship

Goodmornin’, babydoll. I went out for a run, but I’ll be back in a jiffy. Can’t wait to fuck my wife and then feed ya some fresh fruit, and then fuck ya some more. Oh, and I booked us couples massages later this afternoon! Love you so much, honey.

-Joel xx.

You let out a girlish giggle and kiss the note before setting it down on the nightstand.

When he returns he’s drenched in sweat that seeps through the fabric of his t-shirt that adorns his body in all the right places. He’s got that twinkle in his eye, and that dimple poking out of his cheek that you love so dearly.

“Have a nice run, baby?” You grin at him over the rim of your book as he approaches.

“Mhm. S’gonna be an absolutely gorgeous day out there.” He drawls and watches as you set your book down on the nightstand.

“Yeah? Well, I think my husband should gimme his cock so that we can go out and enjoy this gorgeous day.” You curl your pointer finger inwards in a come hither motion for him to come closer.

“Oh, you want my cock? Hmm..what a temptin’ offer that is, honeybun.” He teases.

“But I want you to strip for me first, Joel. Give your wife a little show.” You wink and reach for the camera on the nightstand and flip it on.

“A strip tease, eh? I think I can handle that.” He chuckles and reaches for the hem of his shirt and slowly pulls it over his head just as your thighs slowly spread open over the comforter and your hand slips down between them to lightly play with yourself.

He grabs the waistband of his shorts and playfully snaps it against the lower part of his stomach with a grin before he slowly tugs it down over his hips. His cock is semi-hard beneath the confines.

“Fuck.” You breathe, “I’m the luckiest woman alive.” You beckon him closer and obliges. He takes his lower lip between his teeth when your soft and warm palm wraps around the underside of his shaft, fondling him gently while you hold the camera steady in your freehand.

“Shit. Y’got that all wrong, sugar. M’the luckiest motherfucker alive with the hottest, kindest, most beautiful wife. Fuck.” He hisses between his teeth.

You giggle softly at his reaction and slowly begin to pump your hand around him and twist your wrist in a corkscrew motion.

“And this cock is all mine, right baby? Fuck, it’s so pretty. I fuckin’ love you and your cock.”

“All fuckin’ yours, sugar plum.” He groans and leans down to slot his lips with yours, slipping his tongue past your mouth in a heated, bruising kiss. His cock grows hard and heavy beneath your soft touch and he pulls away only to climb on the bed on his knees, and grab the underside of your thighs to spread you apart further.

“And this pussy is all fuckin’ mine, ain’t she?” He rasps and looks up at you and the camera that is now angled downwards.

“All fuckin’ yours, baby. And she’s absolutely dripping for you right now.”

“Can see that, honeypie.” He chuckles and nips at the sensitive skin of your inner thighs and bites down playfully. He doesn’t mind the coarse, thick, swirling hair on your pussy tickling the patches on his beard. He fucking loves you in your natural state, and he lets you know it by devouring your cunt whole. He kisses and suckles on your clit like it’s the sweetest candy he’s ever had the pleasure of tasting. His jaw goes slack as he laps up your arousal that seeps out of you like sweet honey from a hive. He groans against you, the bridge of his nose buried against the hair on your pubic bone. He inhales your scent, musky, erotic, and all you. He drinks you in, feasts, and feasts while you cry out his name.

Loving Joel Miller came easy, and while he has the biggest cock you’ve ever seen, it’s his ginormous heart that really sealed the deal for you.

When he hears the camera click shut and fall to the unoccupied space on the bed, he grins and continues to eat his favorite fucking meal; you. Until your tugging on the roots of his scalp and reaching down between his thighs to grasp his heavy cock once more and pull him into you.

Fuck your wife like you mean it, Joel.

Don’t gotta ask me twice, sugar.

banners made by the lovely @saradika 🤍

I no longer have a tag list so please follow @tightjeansjaviupdates for fic notifications and updates!

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller fluff #soft!joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel x you #joel x reader #joel miller fic #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #husband!joel miller

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ashleyisartsy · 11 days

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Problems (objective and personal) I'm not seeing discussed a lot w this new WatcherTV thing, in no particular order:

-Alienates people internationally who literally CANNOT GET the streaming service!

-Alienates casual fans who don't watch or want to watch all of their shows. Putting down 60 bucks a year to watch just one or two shows is kind of insane, at least for me.

-The volume of content Watcher has produced historically hasn't been enough to justify a separate streamer. I understand there's no way a small team could compete with something like Netflix, obviously, but that's what you're trying to do by putting yourself in the streamer market.

-Will this streamer be secure? What steps are in place to protect your viewers info? ESPECIALLY payment info.

-Will it be easily watchable on multiple devices? I watch YouTube videos on my phone at work 90% of the time, or at home on my TV thru my switch. Is this a browser only deal?

-What are the internet requirements for this? Believe it or not most streaming services won't run on my internet personally. I don't have any for that reason. I can watch YouTube on 360p, or on my 2-bar-reception phone data. Not everywhere has stable reliable internet.

-The suddenness and totality of the move was going to be jarring no matter what, if the idea had been introduced gradually or started as a hybrid model to test audience interest there wouldn't be nearly this amount of pushback.

-I understand the people saying "pay artists!!" Bc I am one, and I get that their quality is expensive and they have a whole company's worth of people to support. I do actually think their work is worth paying for! Everyone's is! But convincing anyone to pay for something they previously got for free is going to be a hard sell. They were still getting paid before, they're now just asking us to pay instead of the advertisers. Idk about you, but that's a way bigger hit to my pocketbook than a multimillion dollar company's bank account.

-I get that YouTube can be a really shitty place to be a creator sometimes, and that being beholden to advertisers is something they don't want to be. It's why they left Buzzfeed! They already have a patreon and merch and it's clearly not been enough for their ambitions. But shooting yourself in the foot because your running shoes are wearing out isn't going to make you a better marathon runner. They had to know that there was going to be a not small portion of their audience unwilling to make this move with them (and again, lots literally aren't able to!)

-If they had a free w/ ads option, or even did a hybrid model with whole shows behind the pay wall, or even just ran a fucking crowd funding campaign to help cover costs of new seasons of shows, any of those things could have worked. They don't even have YouTube memberships turned on, which I've personally seen many many channels do even when they already have a patreon. It really doesn't seem like they've exhausted other options, at least from an outside perspective, which is all we have as viewers!

-I get that this has been in the works for a long time, and that there probably isn't a way for them to back out now. But I hope they can find a way to make this more accessible if they want it to work at all. I truly am not wishing for their downfall, but the whole situation is an awful mess.

Idk, rant over. As a lot of you are I'm feeling very disappointed and upset with this one, and I'm not paying for it either. Hope the boys can salvage this one for their and their crew's sake. Would really hate for this to be the end.

#watcher #ryan bergara #shane madej #steven lim #the youtube landscape is a hell hole #just :(

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mixtape-racha · 7 months

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should i stay or should i go | hwang hyunjin

who knew the quiet girl in the back of the algebra classroom, and the campus's golden boy would have so much in common? // minors dni, 18+

words: 4.3k // warnings: camboy!hyunjin x camgirl!reader, dom!hyunjin, oral (f. recieving), tiny hint to orgasm control, protected piv, "sir" and "princess", recorded sex, illusions to aftercare, reader is kind of a brat and teases hyunjin at first, hinted multiple rounds, slight degradation but mostly praise

“g’night, guys. dream of me!” hyunjin grinned, biting his lip as he leaned forward to turn off his livestream camera.

he felt sticky, and messy, but god did it feel good. he worked quickly to find his wipes and clean the cum off of his torso before it dried, before pulling out his favorite lounge pants and a baggy shirt.

sure, cam work was often frowned upon, but why shouldn’t he get paid for allowing others to view his pleasure? why shouldn’t he indulge himself in the compliments of strangers on twitter who oh-so loyally reminded him how beautiful he was under every lewd or nude he posted?

in fact, he didn’t understand why people wouldn’t want that for themselves.

of course, it also helped that he was surrounded by many followers and mutuals who were even more attractive than him, making many online friends who enjoyed their sexuality just as much as he did.

speaking of which, he needed to reply to a dm from his favorite mutual. she was gorgeous in every sense of the word - and her personality even more so. they’d began talked after she praised him under one of his only cumshot videos on the app, and instantly bonded from there. it was her who had introduced him to the camming site she used, hyunjin having instantly made an account - at first, to watch his new friend’s streams, but eventually starting his own.

his most recent conversations with his friend - who used the online alias of “jae” - was about their many, many requests from their followers for a collab. either for a twitter post, or a stream, it seemed their fans weren’t too fussed. they entertained the idea, and were currently in the process of figuring out if it was actually a good idea for them.

he was more than keen - jae’s body was gorgeous, and he’d rubbed one out to her twitter posts more than once. and - although he’d never admit it - he was a frequent viewer of her streams. that was where jae and himself differed though. she was too caught up in keeping her viewers occupied, that she hadn’t had a chance to watch one of his streams, and he never showed his face in twitter posts.

so, in short, she didn’t know what he looked like. and neither did he truly know what she looked like, because she’s never done a face reveal on twitter or on a stream. he was only fortunate enough to have endless content of her gorgeous tits and pretty pussy to indulge in when he needed it.

a week later, and it was almost time. hyunjin and jae had agreed to meet at a bar near his campus, to see how their dynamic went. the agreement was that if either party felt uncomfortable, they would go no further and call the idea off. if they both felt comfortable, well…. jae would take hyunjin back to her apartment. they’d see how things went there, take a few photos for twitter and maybe if they both wanted.

then - all things successful - the following weekend, they’d do a joint stream, streaming live on both their accounts simultaneously for maximum viewers. that was his idea, a whim decision that he was surprised jae agreed too.

hyunjin dressed in his nicest semi-casual outfit before grabbing all the essentials in his bag - wallet, keys, charger, airpods, phone - before grabbing a bottle of lube and some condoms. just to be on the safe side, he told himself. he didn’t know why he was so nervous, this was literally part of his job. and he’d been talking to jae for months now. he had no reason to be scared.

that was until he got to the bar and had every reason to be scared. sitting in a booth in the corner, exactly where jae had told him she was sitting, was you. y/n l/n, the pretty girl in the back of his algebra class. there was no way, right? he cautiously approached the table, hands shaking slightly. oh god, was it really someone he knew on the other end of the phone that entire time?

“jae?” he asked, wincing at the way his voice broke, and his heart thumping when your head whipped up. you looked like a deer caught in headlights as you realized who was stood in front of you, and instantly you both worried that this was a bad idea.

“oh my god… hyunjin?” but what surprised him most was the way you broke into a grin. “thank god, i was so worried it was actually going to be a creepy old man catfishing me… come! come sit!”

were you always so bubbly? hyunjin had always known who you were, but this was so different to the quiet girl in the back of the algebra class, one airpod in at all times, glasses donning her face and never talking. he was almost whiplashed - he’d really misjudged you.

“so… i mean, know that we’ve known each other previously, do you still want to do this? if not, no harm done, and i promise i won’t tell anyone if you don’t tell anyone about me.” you asked softly, picking up on hyunjin’s hesitance - not that it was hard, he wore all his emotions on his sleeve.

“no! no, i still want to do this.. i guess i’m just.. surprised? i never expected jae to be someone i knew.”

you grinned at that, reaching out to grab his hand across the table comfortingly.

“i get it. i didn’t expect you to be someone i knew, either. but honestly, this works really well for me. you’re hot, and i feel more comfortable knowing you’re not a complete stranger.”

he flushed at your words, but hoped you couldn’t tell under the dim lights of the bar.

“do you wanna get a couple of drinks before we head back to mine? maybe some shots, just to ease the nerves? my teat.” you smiled, pulling out your purse as hyunjin shook his head rapidly.

“no, no i can pay for my drinks!”

“hyunjin,” you laughed. “its fine. got a big tip last night, nearly $600 dollars from a private stream. my treat.” you insisted, taking his drink order before wandering over to the bar.

he couldn't help the way he watched your ass as you walked, the tight skirt doing nothing to help his already raging boner. if he’d known you were so confident, he would’ve made a move on you sooner. in all honesty, hyunjin had always had an eye for you - you were so, so pretty. the whole nerdy thing you had going on really turned him on too - you seemed so innocent, and it played into his whole corruption fantasy. but knowing now that it wasn’t true - that you were secretly a freak? it was a whole new level of turned-on. if he could, he would’ve ravished you in the toilet cubicles of the bar, but he was more classy than that. maybe next time.

before he could realize the implications of his thoughts, you came back over, passing him his drink before sipping on yours as you took a seat.

“so i was thinking we could cover the basics here? safe words, hard limits, that sort of thing? it seemed too impersonal to do over messages, you know?”

god, he didn’t think he could get more attracted to you. he barely could keep track of your conversation, only spaced-in enough to cover the most important topics. his cock throbbed in his jeans when you leaned over the table towards him, tits squeezing together perfectly under your tiny shirt. the skirt you wore hugged your hips in a way that had hyunjin trying not to drool, and your thighs looked so, so biteable in contrast to the material adorning them.

he was so out of it, he couldn’t even trace the moment that you’d left the bar to go back to your apartment, not until you pushed him against the back of the door and asked him to kiss you with big doe eyes.

and how could he refuse? when you looked up at him like he was the only god you could ever submit to? when you begged so nicely? when your hands tightened on his shirt in anticipation?

he gripped your jaw, pulling your face up to meet his as he kissed you in a flurry of clashing teeth and spit. he wanted to be gentle, to be careful with you, but he couldn’t help himself. he needed you so bad, and it was like his body was acting on its own accord.

like when he flipped your positions, so you were the one pressed against the door. a moan left your lips and went tumbling into his at the way our back hit the door, and he felt himself throb at how pretty you sounded. he was quick to hoist one of your legs over his hip, pressing his body against your as much as he could.

as his tongue entered your mouth, battling yours for dominance which you inevitably surrendered to him, he grabbed a fistful of your ass, the feel of your skin making him groan against you.

he was quick to pull away from your mouth with a pop, smirking as you whined before attaching his plump lips to your neck, nipping and sucking at the skin. you keened, back arching against the door and pushing your tits against him perfectly. he tapped your ass harshly, before lifting at your other leg, hinting for you to jump as he wrapped your legs around his waist, effectively trapping you against the door.

the display of strength had you clenching around nothing, hands tugging at his hair as you panted and whined into the darkness of your apartment.

“bedroom, hyun. take me to my bedroom.” you whimpered as he bit down on your jugular, rocking your hips against him. “last door on the right.”

he grunted in response, carrying you across the expanse of your apartment, kicking open your bedroom door when he reached it. he was fast to kick it shut behind him, dropping you onto the bed once close enough and looking down at you with eyes so blown-out with lust he looked feral.

you felt small under his gaze, embarrassment flushing across you in a way it hadn’t in a long time. cam work and your nsfw twitter had built a whole new confidence in you - you felt like femme fatale, someone who could have boys falling to their knees to worship the ground she walked on, only to have hyunjin blow it all away within moments. you couldn’t remember the last time you’d wanted someone this bad, and you were damned sure you were going to make him give you what you wanted.

your hand slipped down to your skirt, lifting the material as you slipped your panties to the side, looking up at him with doe eyes as your finger circled your clit. you were so wet it was unreal, and he could’ve sworn you were about to start dripping all over the bed below you.

“gonna fuck me now, hyunie? gonna make me feel good like you promised so many times on twitter? need you so bad, need you to fill me up.” your words drawled out slightly slurred, the visual of his cock jumping beneath his jeans making you involuntarily clench around nothing. but oh, it made something in your mind click, smirking as you enticed him even more with your teasing.

“why don’t we stream it, yeah? then everyone can see what a fucking slut you are for me?”

he growled in response, lunging forward to push your thighs apart as far as they could, his eyes fixed on your cunt, slick dripping out of your greedy hole.

“oh, i’m a slut, hmm? well then, we don’t we show your viewers how quickly you’re going to cream on my cock, yeah? make them watch as you beg me to cum inside of you, have my cum dripping out of you as a reminder of how bad you want me?”

you were so caught off guard at the change of demeanor that he showed, you didn’t even realize that he’d floated over to your computer, which had your streaming site booted up in the background in case of an impromptu stream - just like now, you supposed.

turning back to you, his face had relaxed and his eyes showed concern.

“are you sure about this, what about if they accidentally see your face?” your heart warmed at his worry, shaking your head in response.

“i don’t care. collab stream with you and face reveal? two birds with one stone, just need you to hurry up and fuck me.”

at your words, his face hardened again, and he smirked, typing in the title for the stream and turning it on. instantly, pings from your computer informed you that people were joining, and it had you more turned on - if that were even possible.

‘face reveal + a special guest: surprise lovelies xoxo ~ jaecums // callmehhj’

“gonna let me ravish you now, then? let sir turn you into a brainless cumdump on his cock?”

your eyes fluttered, threatening to roll to the back of your head as hyunjin approached you once more, biting your lip as you nodded, whining out a yes.

“come on, princess. you gotta use your words for me, yeah? how else will i know what my slutty girl wants?” he asked, faux sympathy dripping from his voice as he knelt on the end of the bed, long fingers circling your hole.

“please, sir, please, need you, need you to fuck me so bad, sir, please-!”

your words were cut off as he removed himself from the bed, kneeling on the floor and pulling you towards him by your thighs. your legs hung over his shoulders, ass perched on the edge of the bed as he kissed softly up your thighs.

“gotta let me hear those pretty moans as i eat you out first, though. gonna make you cum on my face before my cock even goes near you.”

you keened as he pushed his face against your core, nose swiping against your clit as he flattened his tongue against you. “oh, fuck–!”

he hummed in appreciation, the vibrations making your hips buck against him as he messily made out with your clit, spit and arousal dripping down onto his chin. your hands laced their way through hyunjin’s long hair, grip tightening every time he decided to tease you by dipping his tongue into your hole.

his fingers were digging into your skin deliciously, and you were sure you’d have marks left behind to remind you that this wasn’t just a fever dream. your moans were bouncing off the walls, and even then you could hear the messy slurping of hyunjin gathering all of your arousal that he could into his mouth.

he was like a man starved between your legs, and it had your stomach tightening unbelievably fast. there was no way– you’d never come this fast, especially from oral. was hyunjin superhuman? you couldn’t believe that you were already feeling a coil tightening and a warm tingling spreading up through your body already.

your hands threaded further through his hair, hips bucking wildly as you tugged his face deeper into your core. “oh, shit– oh fuck, sir, m’gonna cum–!” you cried, toes curling as you tried to fend off your building release. “please! pleasepleaseplease-!” your words came out slurred, and hyunjin smirked to himself between your legs as he pulled away from your swollen clit with a pop.

he quickly replaced his lips with his fingers, rubbing delicate figure-eights on your bud while he looked up at you with faux doe eyes. “gonna cum, yeah? you gonna cum for me, baby?”

but it wasn’t enough for you as tears sprung behind your eyes, digging the heels of your feet into his shoulders. “please, sir-! please, let me cum for you, please!”

hyunjin’s eyes widened slightly before his face hardened once more and his fingers sped up on your clit. he began pressing kisses to your thighs, biting and sucking at the plush skin.

“go on, princess. cum for me. cum all over sir’s face, yeah?”

and as soon as the words left his mouth, he pushed his nose against your bud, tongue lapping at your hole and the coil in your stomach snapped. you keened, back arching as your juices flooded hyunjin’s mouth, him moaning against your core in appreciation.

he stayed nestled between your thighs until your legs started twitching in overstimulation and you began pushing his head away. but god, he’d never get over the way you tasted. it was official - he’d never be able to give any other girl oral because it would never be as perfect as the way your thighs wrapped around his head. he was a goner.

hauling himself onto his feet, hyunjin wrapped an arm around your back to pull you to meet him halfway in a sloppy kiss, the taste of your slick falling from his mouth to yours. you moaned against his lips, hands falling to grip onto him any way you could before realizing he was still fully dressed. you sharply pulled away from the kiss, brows furrowed and lower lips falling out in a pout.

“take it off,” you grumbled, pulling at the material of his shirt, frown only deepening when he chuckled at you. but you could forgive him for that, you could forgive him for anything - especially when he looked that fucking good. planes of muscled, honey skin exposed to you, and you wanted nothing more than to pin him down and cover him in bites and bruises. however, you didn’t think he’d let you get away with that, so you let your hands fall to his belt, quickly undoing it in hopes he’d get the hint.

as he began removing the offending items, you slipped your skirt and top off, leaving you in just a lacy bra, to which hyunjin grinned. “so desperate for me, huh? wasn’t enough that i made you cum once, was it? my greedy girl.”

“need you inside me, please,” you whimpered, reaching out to pull him towards you. “need you to fuck me, sir, come on.”

he leaned down to plant a kiss on your head, before stepping away to retrieve a condom from his wallet. it was in that moment of silence that you could truly appreciate how many pings were coming from your computer, an indication of how much people were enjoying the stream. you were kind of excited to see how many tips you got, and were curious to see if hyunjin would easily accept half of whatever you made - he seemed like the type of guy to refuse, but you could be just as stubborn.

when he came back, he had put the condom on his length, and you nearly drooled seeing it up close. his dick was…. well, gorgeous. there was no other way to put it, and you knew damn well that you were going to be screaming with pleasure faster than you ever had.

“gonna fuck you so full of me, yeah? let everyone see what a dirty bitch you really are.”

he clambered on top of you, kneeling with one hand next to your hip and the other on his length to guide it against your hole. he’d barely put the tip in before you moaned, and he couldn’t help but chuckle at how fucked out you were.

“calm down, love. let me at least get inside you before you go all brainless.”

but you couldn’t help the way you writhed and keened as he pushed ever-so-slowly further into you, not stopping until he was sheathed inside you, his public bone resting against your plush thighs.

he had his lower lip tucked between his teeth to stop himself from drowning out your pretty whimpers, but also to ground himself - you felt so warm and tight, it took everything in him not to nut straight away. he couldn’t. you deserved to squirt all over him before he even considered finishing.

you reached for his arm, fingers coming to grip the muscle as he began to shallowly thrust, the feeling of his cock dragging against your walls making your head fall back as you let out a contented sigh. you didn’t think you’d ever felt so full in your life, and it was heavenly. every vein on his cock, every twitch, the way his tip stretched you out so perfectly for the rest of him. oh yeah, you could die happy now.

your legs wrapped around his waist, locking him against you as he rocked his hips, not wanting to overwhelm you and pound into you how he wanted. his eyes bored into your skin, making you blush at the way he held such affection for you in his pretty eyes. it was freeing, and overwhelming, and heartwarming all at once.

once you’d been reasonably adjusted to his size, he pulled his hips back as far as your grip would allow him, leaving just the tip inside, before thrusting forward against such force it sent your body back up the bed at least an inch. you cried out, clenching on him as drool began pooling at your lips from your want— no, your need for him to ruin you.

“please, sir,” you slurred, fingers gripping at his skin as tight as the heat in your body would let you. “fuck me properly, please. wanna make a mess, wanna make you cum.”

he then growled at your words, hips speeding up almost instantly. your body rocked in its spot on the bed, tits bouncing with the pure force he was driving into you at.

the room was filled with the sounds of skin slapping, and if you strained your ears you could hear the squelching noise your pussy made as your arousal dripped out, coating the sheets beneath you.

you knew you’d get a noise complaint from your neighbor if you kept squealing the way you were, but you couldn’t help it. especially not when hyunjin bit down on your neck, tongue rubbing over the sensitive skin, making you let out an almost animalistic howl.

it felt like he was hitting the deepest parts of you, and you couldn’t get enough of it. the way his hair swayed, the way sweat was dripping down his forehead, the way he looked at you like he wanted nothing more than to tie you down and use you as his own personal sex toy. even the way he moaned when you clenched around him, god you were obsessed.

you felt a fire building in your abdomen as he leant back on his knees, eyes trained on watching his cock glide in and out of you, and you held your legs up to your chest to give him a better view. at that, he threw his head back and let out a heavenly groan, causing you to clench around him once again.

you snaked a hand down to your clit, rubbing it furiously as the leg it was holding fell into place naturally on hyunjin’s shoulder. you were so aching close, so close you could feel your walls begging for it, but you just needed a final push.

hooking your foot around his neck, you pushed hyunjin towards you, instantly grabbing his lips with your own. it was messy, and disgusting, but you loved it. all drool, and teeth clashing, tongues wrapped around each other like that's how they’d always been.

the new angle allowed hyunjin to reach ever deeper - hitting the deepest parts of you that you didn’t even know where possible. he reached a hand up to tweak at your nipple, and you whined into his mouth as it sent you hurling into an orgasm, back arching to push your chests together.

the way you clamped down on him sent him head-first into his own release, his hips stuttering as you felt each throb of his cock as he filled the condom. you were both breathing heavily, almost panting as he pulled away from this kiss, thrusting shallowly a few more times to ride you both through your release.

your chest was heaving, and you felt like you’d ascended. all floaty and gooey, head sinking into the pillow beneath it as your eyes fluttered closed in pure bliss. hyunjin peppered a few soft kisses across your cheeks as he carefully pulled out, rubbing your hips comfortingly when you winced.

“good?” he asked quietly, so quiet that your computer wouldn’t pick it up, and you nodded without opening your eyes.

“so good.”

you felt him crawl backwards and leave the bed, opening your bleary eyes to follow his figure around the room. you couldn’t bring yourself to move just yet, though. you thought all your bones had disappeared and you’d sink straight back into the bed if you tried.

once he’d come back to the bed from ending the stream and tossing the used condom in the bin, he scooped you into his arms and planted a soft kiss on your temple.

“you’re staying tonight, right?” you asked softly, nuzzling your head against him. “don’t think i can let you go after that.” exhaustion flooded your voice and he chuckled.

“course i am, silly. but we gotta get you showered, okay? then i can order in some food and we can watch a movie or something, yeah?”

you nodded softly.

“join me in the shower?”

“oh, i don’t think that’s a good idea, princess. you’re shattered.”

“please, jinnie,” you pleaded, pressing a soft kiss to his jaw. “need you to cum down my throat before anything else, and sharing a shower means saving water, after all.”

he laughed at your enthusiasm, and nodded, agreeing.

“okay. okay, whatever you want. but then - food and sleep, okay?” he grinned, scooping you up in his arms to carry you to the bathroom.

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vintagegeekculture · 20 days

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Because she was an intentionally mysterious woman initially only seen in a single episode, and before she got an on-air backstory in the recent streaming series, Star Trek supplementary material developed contradictory information on who - or what - Number One, the female first executive officer of the Enterprise, was. To my count, she has four different, completely incompatible backstories in the comics and novels, and this is absolutely unique in Star Trek, which usually keeps it consistent.

Peter David, in his New Frontier novels, identified Number One as a long lived immortal human mutant (like Flint from the original series) named “Morgan Primus” who was an early genius in cybernetics and artificial intelligence, which is why the Enterprise computer has her voice. One of the names Morgan Primus assumed to hide her immortality was Morgan Lefler, and one of her daughters was Robin Lefler, Wesley Crusher’s love interest from the Next Generation Series played by Ashley Judd. Robin Lefler did not inherit her mutant ability to heal all injuries.

Alternatively, the DC Star Trek Comics of the early 1980s said that Number One was from an obscure planet of peaceful, open, friendly telepaths who resemble humans exactly, and that she was present at first contact with Starfleet. They explained that her blunt, direct, undiplomatic manner is due to her being from a telepathic culture that values total honesty. This would make her the first telepath on the Enterprise, with Spock and Arex coming later. Her planet was created before the Next Generation, but her species being a peaceful, open, telepathic race resembling Mediterranean humans who are not well known or commonly encountered in the original series era….well, that certainly sounds an awful lot like Betazoids to me. If this backstory is true, she may have been the first Betazoid seen on screen, in much the same way fans generally believe Trelane was either Q or a member of the Q Continuum.

D.C. Fontana’s only Star Trek novel, “Vulcan’s Glory,” was one of the earliest attempts to give the character a backstory, and was the most consequential long term. The first novel set in the era of the first Star Trek pilot with Captain Pike and a young Spock, "Vulcan's Glory" identified Number One as being an Illyrian, a race of human-like beings who specialize in species wide breeding programs and genetic improvement. This genetic superiority is why she was cool, intellectual, aloof, and a bit arrogant. Her nickname “Number One” came from the fact she was the supreme product of the hyper-competitive Illyrian system, and won at everything from academics to athletics. According to DC Fontana, her actual Illyrian name is impossible to pronounce, so when dealing with humans, she assumed the human name “Una Chin-Riley.” Una of course, being “Number One” in Greek.

As DC Fontana is such an important figure in Star Trek history and only actually wrote one Star Trek novel in her life, many future materials used the backstory established in “Vulcan’s Glory,” like the David Stern Pike-era novels of the 2010s....but more importantly, the Discovery and Strange New Worlds series, which canonized the “Una Chin-Reilly” name by using it on screen (I remember gasping when Pike called her Una in a Discovery episode, meaning they were going with the Fontana backstory, a detail that may not have been significant to the casual viewer). Since DC Fontana wrote “Vulcan’s Glory” in the 80s, a lot more information was learned about the role of genetic engineering in the Federation, however, and interesting things were done in that series to bring her in line with everything we’ve learned since in Deep Space 9 and Enterprise about augmentation and the society wide prejudice against it. For example, they established that the fact Number One was Illyrian was not public knowledge, but that she pretended to be human her entire life.

The one person who didn’t see fit to give her a backstory or even a real name was John "Johnny Redbeard" Byrne in his comic series about the Cage era Enterprise, who thought the mystery of the character was the most interesting thing about her, and he was deliberately cagey about any details. To Johnny Redbeard, she was just “Number One.” There was a running joke that every time someone says her actual name, or when we see her personnel file, it was blurred out, or somebody’s thumb was over it, and so on. It was rather like the running joke where Mr. Burns never remembers Homer Simpson's name. Johnny Redbeard loves mystery men and women who don't talk about their past, since that was the characterization he famously gave to Wolverine in his X-Men comics.

The one detail of Number One's past that is clear is that Number One in Byrne's comics is competent, mysterious, and has mystique, certainly, but she is completely human, without any powers. Byrne always got exasperated that his X-Men co-creator Chris Claremont added fantastical and far out details to the background of X-Men characters (like how Nightcrawler's girlfriend Amanda turned out to be a sorceress) because he felt "some people should just be allowed to be normal." Byrne always said his original idea for Wolverine's "true" backstory was that he was a Vietnam veteran in intelligence who volunteered for bionic experiments that wiped his memory, and disliked the idea he was immortal, and vetoed the very, very early Dave Cockrum idea Wolverine was an actual mutated wolverine who achieved sentience and a human shape (which early X-Men comics hint at). Byrne was reportedly enraged that they gave Moira MacTaggart a mutant power, as he saw her as just being a scrappy Scottish housekeeper.

Johnny Redbeard didn’t give Number One a past (other than to show she was on the Enterprise's shakedown cruise with Robert April as a rookie officer), but he did give her a future, as he showed an older Number One as a starship commander in the Kirk era (aging gracefully with a white tuft like Tongolele), and later, a flag officer in the Motion Picture era.

To what extent are these backstories compatible? Well, with what we currently know about Number One, that she hid her true species and status to avoid prejudice, it could be that some of the other versions were tall tales she spread to obscure her true origins. The John Byrne idea she served as an Ensign with Robert April in the Enterprise's very first mission hasn't been confirmed, but hasn't been denied, either. The Peter David "Morgan Primus" backstory is completely incompatible, but perhaps there are some elements to it that are true, like the idea that the early part of her career involved working as a computer engineer in artificial intelligence, which is why the computer has her voice.

#star trek #tos #snw #number one

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danganronpadespairtime · 23 days

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Well, it's been a year since the last episode came out, and the rest of ch2 still isn't done. I am well aware that this is the case so there is no need to remind me.

Working on ch2p2 is very difficult and tiring, and it is more time-consuming than usual. So it seems it will take a long time. I will not go into reasons as to why this is the case. I rewrote this post many times trying to express my feelings or explain the reasons things are taking this long, but it seems like it always comes out as sounding really miserable. So instead, I'm just going to say nothing about the matter and move on.

It would be nice to post some preview of ch2p2, but it would either be spoilers, or it would be so generic to avoid spoiling anything that it kind of looks indistinguishable from the first half of the trial. It feels pointless. That is why, for the time being, it's possible I might be posting a lot more about things unrelated to ch2p2, like my other Fangan. This is just because I feel compelled to make a post once a month, yet I am running out of things I can say or show about DRDT.

I can make no promises about the release date of ch2p2 at this time. But I promise that it will be done one day. No matter how painful it becomes or how many difficulties I face, I want to see it through to the end. It might take a long time, but I can't give up. So please put your faith in me.

As always, thank you everyone for the support you've given me.

Some addition things that are of no concern to the casual viewer ↓

There is a lot of discussion about the "progress bar" and sometimes I receive questions about it, so I will talk about it for a bit.

Yes, I update it frequently. But it reflects "time left in the story before completion", not "time left in real life before completion."

Basically, it poorly accounts for things that take a long time to make, like the argument armament, the closing argument, the execution. For example, it's lucky if I can sketch out a single panel of the closing argument per day, but once it's all finished it will only look like a few percentage points increased. Even if it's at 90% I feel like there would still be a long time before things were finished.

As they say, "the final uphill stretch is the hardest of all"... Or something like that................

#update

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finalgirllx · 2 months

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bartender mattheo riddle

i'm a slut for AUs and this one quickly shot up to being one of my favorites for mattheo.

for @thatdammchickennugget's hogmarch challenge, the prompt i went off of was 'firewhiskey/butterbeer'

As you tread the once-familiar cobblestone streets of Hogsmeade, the rhythmic click of your shoes provides a temporary distraction from the storm swelling inside your thoughts. For such a lively village, the action around you feels distant, too far in the past to offer any respite similar to the steady cadence beneath your feet.

To outside viewers, you appear as any young person donning a modest party dress and looking for a casual spot to unwind for the evening. They wouldn't know this was your first visit to Hogsmeade in over five years since you finished your schooling at Hogwarts. You had left the highlands, your small hamlet, for bigger, better things—or so you had thought.

Reality didn't guarantee such promises you had dreamed of in those few years. Currently barely making ends meet and running on a general sense of uncertainty, you decided it was as good a time as any to revisit your hometown and the magical communities surrounding it, including this cheerful wizarding town you had frequented throughout your adolescence.

You first tried your luck with the Three Broomsticks, but the bustling atmosphere proved too overwhelming for the discreet return you aimed for. With the decision between the rundown Hog's Head inn and a newer, more upscale establishment called 'Celestial Sips,' you opted to see what this new 'fancy-schmancy' spot was all about.

You stealthily step through the polished entry doors to scan the venue, which is dimly lit beside faint golden lights. It is adorned with oddly shaped furniture more suited for artistic expression rather than usability. It appears far more modernized than the traditional charm most common with Hogsmeade’s businesses, young wizarding folk undoubtedly curated it with heavy inspiration coming from muggle cocktail lounges.

The existence of the bar itself in a place such as Hogsmeade wasn't the most earth-shattering part of this night out. It was when your eyes met with the lead bartender, and a flood of memories filled your senses as you realized it was none other than Mattheo Riddle.

His dark curls were unruly as ever but fell in such a way that made him irresistible. His piercing dark gaze caught yours, sparking with recognition. The scar across the bridge of his nose was just as prominent as it was six years ago, as vivid as the day you had dragged him to the hospital wing to get his split nose mended after a particularly grueling fistfight.

That memory also reminds you just how close you and him once were. While you had never officially dated, you did everything a couple would and then some. You shared countless fun late nights, as well as having been there for each other during the more trying ones. And although sexual intimacy didn't come until after graduation, the passion of those post-school days also remains etched in your memory. It was your decision to pursue "bigger things" that had cut that short, leaving you with a lingering sense of what might have been.

Despite the distance between you as you reeled from the shock of encountering him here, you couldn't help but notice the changes in Mattheo over the past five years. Mattheo exuded a confidence far from the troubled boy you once knew at school. He had grown taller, broader, and even more handsome than before. He was also now littered with tattoos that only added to his allure, tempting you to bridge the distance separating you further.

Your knee-jerk reaction would have been to flee the scene, but since you had already met eyes and he was actively beckoning you forward to the bar as you battled with your thoughts, you had no choice but to participate in the unexpected reunion.

You sat at a bar stool, and Mattheo quickly welcomed you with a warm but distinctively husky tone. It was clear that Mattheo was struggling to mask his excitement over seeing you as he tried to maintain some professionalism while behind the bar.

"The greatest stroke of luck I've encountered since taking the job at this fancy joint," Mattheo started with genuine delight, "I can't believe it's you. You look fantastic," his quick work of sweet-talking you did the trick as your cheeks flushed, though still totally sober. Mattheo was also swift in amending that, sliding a vodka cranberry before you with a nod, "On the house. Let me know if you want something more 'refined' for the setting; I just went with an old favorite."

You let out a soft giggle, drawing the straw to your lips to sip the drink. The sweetness of the juice masks the burn, perfectly balanced to not overwhelm from either end.

With Mattheo's excellent job of putting you at ease, you finally replied. "Indeed, you always teased me for not being a whiskey drinker. Old habits die hard," you quipped, taking another sip before continuing. "But, look at you! A bartender? Mattheo, I must say, I'm thrilled to see you here and not, well.." your words lingered away at the implication, realizing it might not sound as encouraging as intended. There were all sorts of rumors of him headed to a life of dark wizardry, so seeing him here was a relief. But he didn't have to hear about any of that, not now. Quickly shifting your approach, you perked up to suggest, "And at this luxurious place? While I appreciate the old favorite, I would love to see what magic you could conjure up in a cocktail glass."

Mattheo laughed and shook his head momentarily before piping up again. "Seems your confidence has skyrocketed. I'm glad to see that, princess," he teased with a cheeky smirk, earning an eye roll from you that only amused him further. You again feel a little heated at the nickname, opting not to question it. You could see that the mischievous glint in his eyes was alive and well as he began meticulously combining various expensive-looking drinks and mixers just for you. Simultaneously, Mattheo tended to other existing patrons, expertly traversing the sprawling bar to ensure everyone's needs were met and drinks stayed filled.

Observing how Mattheo carried himself with such assuredness only heightened your attraction. Each movement he made to speak with patrons and craft drinks allowed you to appreciate his muscled physique. You were no better than a groupie ogling his toned, tattooed arms, his hands still bearing faint scars from his past. The sight of his veins flexing with every motion ignited a fire in your stomach that you hoped wouldn't consume you entirely.

His broad shoulders and slim waist were accentuated by his dark button-up dress shirt. That caught your attention, as did when your gaze moved downward and drifted over his perfectly sculpted behind. You were abruptly snapped from your desirous stupor when the object of your admiration set a much fancier cocktail before you.

"Like what you see?" Mattheo asked with a smug, teasing tone, causing you to want to disappear into the ground beneath your stool. You must have been less-than-subtle about checking him out, but he didn't seem to mind as he continued without further ribbing. "Try that. It's the Mattheo special," he said, watching you intently to see how you reacted to the first sip.

You smirked at the oh-so-creative name and then inspected the drink itself. It was rather extravagant, a lavender purple hue with swirls of gold shimmering with every swish of the glass.

Without hesitation, you lifted the glass and took a small sip. A delightful combination of blueberry and lemon overtook your tastebuds, almost completely shielding the strength of the alcohol in the drink. Hell, you were prepared to question if it was mixed at all had you not watched him pour at least a shot's worth of vodka into it.

You gave him a smile of approval, to which Mattheo grinned widely, clearly pleased to see you liked it. With the other patrons momentarily tended to, Mattheo rested his elbows on the counter, surprising you with his sudden proximity as he leaned forward, suggesting he had something enticing to say.

"I hope this isn't too forward, but I'd really like to catch up," Mattheo spoke in a hushed tone. It sounded innocent enough, but the question, paired with his gaze lingering on your figure, told you he meant anything but. "Would you consider sticking around till close?"

Yes, yes, yes! Your internal monologue screamed. On the outside, you locked eyes with him and smirked, your expression conveying you understood his intentions well. "I don't have anywhere else I want to go; I can stick around."

-----------------------

You were cautious with your drinking to avoid getting too intoxicated for your later plans with Mattheo. As the closing time for Celestial Sips approached, you remained near the counter, bantering with other patrons. Mattheo delegated cleaning duties to other employees while he called for final rounds and closed tabs. Each time your eyes met, a shared twinge of excitement passed between you.

After another hour or so, Mattheo finally shut down the lit 'open' sign, leaving you two together alone. While this is what you wanted, your nerves welled up upon the realization that it was just the two of you here. A hint of insecurity came over you. He had grown to be such an attractive, confident man, and you could only hope he found you equally appealing. That line of thought was interrupted when Mattheo began approaching you. His expression, filled with hunger, was directed at you. His captivating eyes combined with the deep-brown locks drooping over his forehead implored you to swoon from where you sat.

"Merlin, princess, you have no idea how much I've missed you," Mattheo murmured, his voice brimming with seduction as he closed the distance, his hands finding their place on the curve of your waist. “Please let me know if you want me to slow down at any time." His words echoed in your ears, bringing you comfort even though you felt wholly prepared to surrender to all of his desires.

Mattheo advanced until your back pressed against the front of the counter. His lips found the crook of your neck, peppering your skin with a trail of wet kisses in their wake. A moan escaped your lips as his actions ignited your longing for more; everything you had wished his hands on you would feel like coming true. However, the heat was cut short far too soon when Mattheo suddenly took a pause from all of the heavy petting.

"You seem tense," Mattheo remarked with a hint of concern. You promptly reassured him with affectionate pecks to his cheek before admitting, "I just hope I'm good for you." His eyes briefly darkened as if displeased by your hesitancy. Suddenly, both of his hands moved to cup your cheeks, and he gazed deeply into your eyes.

"You are the most beautiful person I've ever laid eyes on. I meant every word when I said I fantasized about a moment like this with you for years," he confessed. The sincerity in his voice compelled you to trust him, leaving you with no doubt about whether he wanted this.

Seeing you take his words to heart, Mattheo's expression then lit up, clearly having a lightbulb moment. "If you're ready, this place is chock full of drinks to help us both loosen up a bit," As soon as he mentioned it, you felt almost silly having overlooked the idea, realizing that some liquid confidence was the answer to easing your nerves. You nodded, and Mattheo took his hand in yours and gently guided you behind the bar counter.

"Do you trust me?" He asked, and you instantly replied, "I do."

In one swift motion, one hand made its way to the back of your head and the other to the small of your back so he could pull you into a passionate kiss. Your tongues found each other in a dance, his dominant side quickly winning over as his tongue protruded into your mouth. When you briefly pulled away to catch your breath, your cheeky side showed itself when you gently tugged on his bottom lip with your teeth. He moaned slightly, to your satisfaction, and you took advantage of the moment to run your hand over his chest, feeling the muscles underneath that dress shirt. You finally had Mattheo Riddle all to yourself, and you wanted all of him.

Without warning, he grabbed you by the hips, pulled you close, and spun you around to bend you over the counter. One hand curled around your hair to create a makeshift ponytail, the other wasting no time grabbing a bottle of fire whiskey within arm's reach and placing it beside you.

"I'm sorry, doll. I know you love vodka, but whiskey is perfect for tonight."

You looked up at him with doe-like pleading eyes as he gripped your hair, nodding as much as you could though restricted by his hold. He grinned wickedly over your enthusiastic consent before looming over you with a dominating presence. "Open up that mouth, princess."

Your lips slightly parted as Mattheo brought the open bottle of whiskey to your mouth. He poured a shot's worth down your throat, the intense heat burning on your tongue without anything to chase it down. Yet, as Mattheo force-fed you the drink and whispered praises in your ear about how you 'take it so well,' the burn of the whiskey transformed into a divine sensation, exhilarating in the best way. The bar counter was the only thing stopping you from melting to the floor as you became weak in the knees, your aroused state especially susceptible to his praise.

Mattheo lifted the bottle away from you to take a swig, holding you to the counter with a heavy palm against your back. He sighed, satisfied by the burn.

After a moment, he turned his attention back on you and pulled your hair to the side, hastily marking your neck with suctioned kisses and nibbles. At the same time, Mattheo's fingers ghosted down your back, caressing your ass and jolting you with a swift spank, finally reaching underneath your dress to stroke your cunt through your slick panties.

"Merlin, princess, after seeing the way your lips wrapped around that bottle, I wanted to fuck that pretty mouth so bad. But feeling how goddamn wet you are for me, I'm not sure either of us can wait for my cock to be inside your perfect, tight pussy."

His long fingers moved away from your aching core, reaching up and now brushing against your lips. "Will you wet my fingers a little more for me?" he asked in a voice too enticing for such an indecent request. You immediately allowed him to intrude your mouth, his fingers already covered in your taste though he had just barely begun to touch you. "We have to prepare that pussy don't we?" he groaned into your ear. You were distracted as his hardened cock ground into your ass between the fabric of your dress and his trousers.

You could tell he was beginning to lose himself as he seemed enamored by the way your mouth slipped over his fingers, swirling your tongue around them in a show of desperation to please.

Once content with your wetting of his fingers, he pulled them from your mouth and went back to exploring your panties, pushing them aside to tease your folds before slipping the first of his fingers in. It was seamless, not surprising for you, having lusted over him the entire night.

"Fuck, you're still so tight, doll. I have to stretch you out, so this feels as good for you as it will for me."

After a few moments, he introduced a second finger to your soaked cunt. He didn't move at first but gradually began pumping them inside. He could have cum on the spot witnessing your frenetic response to just two fingers.

"Careful, princess. If you want to come on my fingers, you need to beg for it." The words sent a shudder of desperation through your entire body, legs threatening to give out from underneath you as the artful use of his fingers in tandem with his dirty talk brought you toward your first orgasm, unable to resist it even if you tried. Mattheo kept his movements steady as your eyes rolled back and your walls clenched around him, a deep voice leaving the back of his throat to growl, "that's it, ride my fingers, you little slut," His tone this time was demanding, you knew he was displeased by your disobedience. His untamed, hungry expression evolved into something more conniving as he contemplated how to punish you for cumming without permission.

"You like that, huh? A slut who couldn't wait to beg? I should put my cock inside you and make you cum until you can't stand it anymore, then, hm? Do you want that? Cry for it, princess, or you're not getting it."

You quickly fulfill this command with desperate pleas, "Please, Mattheo, please, fill me with your cock."

"Fucking hell, princess--if I wasn't about to bust, I'd have you begging more. Desperation sounds fucking delicious rolling off your tongue," Mattheo growled against your ear as one of his hands haphazardly moved back to his trousers, hastily unbuttoning them to allow his needy length to spring free and press against you. The relief of finally freeing himself caused a deep groan to slip past his lips which only seemed to increase his urgency as his hands quickly found their place on your body again, yanking your dress up over your ass and delivering a forceful slap to your exposed flesh. You yelped and squirmed reflexively from the sting, much to his delight. "That's my fucking ass, don't forget it," he groaned with a certain smugness at the sight of his handprint forming on your skin.

"Please, Matty, please fuck me," you pleaded with a nearly pathetic level of desire. With that, Mattheo decided not to waste another second before indulging you. He took hold of your hips, guiding his cock to your slick folds, and slowly started to ease himself inside of you.

You gasped at the intrusion, reveling in the stretch, but Mattheo cooed praises to relax you enough so there was little discomfort as you adjusted to his size. "Fuck, you fit around me so well. perfect pussy, perfect girl." he groaned as he could feel your wet warmth surround him. “is this okay?"

"Yes, please keep going."

Mattheo used the makeshift ponytail of your hair to lift your head and press his full weight against you onto the counter. His hips began to move, thrusting slowly to start until he was absolutely sure you could take him. With you now sandwiched between his body and the cold surface, he worked up to fucking you at a relentless pace, the base of his cock clashing against your ass as he bottomed out inside of your cunt. The hand steadying you by the hip reached up to wrap around your throat, squeezing at the sides enough for you to feel his strength but not enough to cause pain. It seemed almost to be a reminder for himself not to completely lose to the animalistic urges as he continued to increase the intensity. Your pelvis clanging against the bar didn't matter; you always like it rough, and he knew it.

"Princess, oh gods, I don't know if I'll last." He moaned into your ear paired with short, hot breaths. "You feel so fucking good; I wanted this for so..fucking...long." he sang his praises between each punctuated thrust that hit just the right spot inside of you again and again. The repeated stimulation triggers your second orgasm, your walls clenching around his cock as a choked moan barely escapes your lips- the sound being caught by his firm hold on your neck.

"We're fucking meant for each other, babe," Mattheo grunted as you rode through your wave of pleasure. All you could do in your cockdrunk state was mewl in response, which fueled his ego. "Perfect dumb slut for me, you love taking my cock, don't you? Tell me how much you love my cock," his dirty talk turned more degrading as your most depraved desires inched closer to showing themselves on the surface.

"Love your cock Matty.. mhm so good..."

"Good slut. Now, say you're mine," he commanded, completely frenzied with his pacing.

"I'm yours." you babbled with complete devotion. Mattheo groaned as you so willingly gave into his possessiveness, the very idea of owning every part of you being the tipping point to let his release out inside of you. His rutting became erratic and slowed as he rode through his orgasm, the last few pumps matching your third orgasm in stride.

He then laid limp on top of you, letting out heaving exhales to regain his composure. For the moment, he left his cock to twitch inside of you, relishing in the warm feeling. Once convinced he could get up properly, he pulled out, leaving your pussy dripping with his cum as his entire body lurched over you.

"That was perfect, you were perfect. Best stroke of luck in ages," he mused with a throaty chuckle, recalling his first words when you locked eyes at the beginning of the night. "Can you walk?" he asked, mostly teasingly because the shaking of your legs answered that question without a doubt.

"No," you spoke softly, the giggles you had at the beginning of the night starting to return even if your mind wasn't still fully there from the back-to-back stimulation.

With this, Mattheo decided to hold you for a while longer. You had a lot of catching up to do and piecing together both of your stories to find out how, after so many years, you still ended up right here. But for now, the shared presence was enough.

------------------ huge thankies to @slytherinslut0 for coaching me through this. i was very spooked to share. love y'all <3

#mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle au #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle x you #slytherin #slytherin boys #hogmarch challenge

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