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polaroidcats · 7 months

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Ugly crying & the marauders generation - a pseudo-scientific approach (my marauders crying PhD abstract)

Abstract

In recent days, there have been a variety of claims as to who the prettiest and ugliest crier in the marauders generation could be. This paper aims to address the recent surge in opinions on the matter, and categorize different approaches as well as add a new approach to the scientific examination of ugliness/prettiness when it comes to crying. I hope to provide readers with an overview of the current state of research and encourage all marauders scholars to add their own and I intend to make a contribution to the discourse by committing to the bit and writing a pseudo-academic paper about it instead of actually working on my thesis.

Introduction

In the following paper, the discourse about 5 marauders era characters will be examined in regards to their various levels of perceived ugliness whilst crying. Scholars who may ask why Peter [Pettigrew] is not included in this analysis are advised to refer to acclaimed marauders ugly crying scholar @lynxindisguise's (2023) original poll on the popular blogging website "tumblr.com" which did not include Peter, but rather two non-marauders characters named Lily and Regulus. This paper will follow that approach, since Peter is the nastiest skank bitch I have ever met, I do not trust him and he is a fugly slut. The characters included in this approach are as follows: James Potter, Lily Evans, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin and Regulus Black.

Following the scientific criteria for ugly crying, as stated by lynxindisguise et. al (2023), the question of the ugliest crier can be answered by observing the crying person and assessing their ugly-levels on the following parameters: (1) unbecoming facial expressions, (2) facial swelling/blotching, (3) unsettling noises, (4) snot factor, (5) tear volume, (6) general loss of dignity, (7) glistening eyes/lashes, (8) Victorian heroine factor, (9) elegant tear-wiping, (10) post-cry glow (ibid).

Criteria (1)-(6) can be categorized as the ugly crying parameters whereas (7)-(10) are pretty crying parameters, creating a false binary between ugly and pretty crying, which may be problematised and addressed in another the paper. In contrast to lynxindisguise’s original 10 criteria to measure the aesthetics of crying, this paper proposes to add (11) explosiveness of cry as another ugly crying parameter, in order to get a more clear assessment of where on the ugly-pretty crying scale a character falls.

The ugly crying parameters

(1) Unbecoming facial expressions

James Potter is mentioned in this category by several marauders scholars: @jaylienpotter talks about his red face and ugly sobbing, @artbyace mentions his “scrunched up cry face” and @sectoren claimes “james (…) is that one handsome guy that when the waterworks get going becomes like. Cartoonishly ugly”, raising the question of upkeeping toxic masculinity in order to avoid having to witness more of James Potter’s crying “mug”.

Though James Potter features heavily in this category, another character who is also mentioned just as often is Remus Lupin: @kaaaaaaarf, @appreciatedmoron and @http-starboy all emphasise that Remus Lupin is the one with a red and blotchy face.

(2) facial swelling/blotching

While there is a definitive overlap between the categories of facial swelling/blotching, unbecoming facial expressions and snot factor, Sirius’ and Regulus’ victorian heroine complexions, which give them an advantage in the homonymous category, may be to their disadvantage in the “blotching” category. This will require further research by other scholars.

(3) unsettling noises

James Potter is mentioned in this category by Jaylienpotter (2023), claiming he not only hiccups when crying but also that “his cries are one of the most heartbreaking things you’ll ever hear” and similarly, artbyace states that “James loves and feels so loudly”, whereas “Sirius is silent”, both sentiments are reminiscent of znelda’s (2023) statements that James “was allowed to feel his emotions freely in a loving household” and “Sirius (…) [is] used to hide [his] feelings and [has] become stoic”.

With several other scholars, among them also @jamesunderwater (2023) raising the point that James may be the ugliest crier due to him being “the only one well adjusted enough to have access to his feelings” this raises the question of possibly introducing another category, maybe of emotional awareness/stability to be able to measure this parameter more efficiently, though emotional vulnerability may also just be a part of the unsettling noises parameter, suggesting that there is a correlation between noisiness and the existing environment being welcoming to and accepting of various expressions of emotions.

(4) snot factor

The most popular winner in the snot factor category seems to be Remus Lupin, with several scholars agreeing that his sobs are the dampest and snottiest out of all the candidates. kaaaaaaarf (2023) writes “he turnes all red and blochty and snot drips out of his nose (…) he cant (sic) not cry with his mouth open as well so there is a lot of spit”, and appreciatedmoron (2023) agrees with kaaaaaaarf on this.

It only seems right to me to include spit in the snot category as well, seeing as they’re both crying-related bodily fluids that add to the ugly-cry factor. http-starboy (2023) also mentions snot in regards to Remus Lupin, which compared to both their comments in (1) opens up the question of how unbecoming facial expressions, more particularly redness of the face and snot factor may be related, as several authors seem to write about both specifically in relation to each other. Whether this is just pure coincidence or not would need further research, for which we currently do not have enough funding. This is only one of the many research gaps in the relatively new field of marauder’s ugly crying studies, which cannot fully be addressed in this paper.

James Potter is also mentioned in the snot category, namely by the marauders scholar artbyace (2023).

(5) tear volume

Artbyace (2023) claims James Potter is “full on bawling” which can only be assumed to refer to tear volume, but the most convincing argument for tear volume comes from the acclaimed marauders scholar @fruityindividual (2023), stating that “tsunami warning tones go off in sirius’ brain anytime remus is close 2 (sic) tears” which already indicates high levels of tear volumes. The author then goes on to specify the volume by claiming that “indeed the ocean wishes rj lupin would jump in and help contribute 2 (sic) rising sea levels”, further emphasizing the volume of Remus's tears.

(6) general loss of dignity

@pastaplatypus (2023) writes about James Potter not being able to do a Melodramatic Bollywood Cry, which is perceived as inherently racist by the crier.

I would like to argue that Sirius Black also deserves to be mentioned in this category. While as of today, with less than 1 hour left to vote, 15.5% of voters agree that Sirius is the ugliest crier, the more outspoken voices all argue for different ugly criers. Due to their upbringing, I am tempted to name both Black brothers in the “loss of dignity” category and look forward to reading future contributions to this discussion.

The pretty crying parameters

(7) glistening eyes/lashes

Undoubtedly Sirius Black deserves to be mentioned in this category. I believe his dark lashes and glimmering eyes are part of what makes him the prettiest crier. Whereas Remus’s eyes also sometimes glisten or appear red, and it is usually attributed to be caused by drug consumption, which more often than not is a wrong assumption, but he happily goes along with the pretense of being a weed-smoking bad boy in order to hide his ugly crying damp tendencies.

(8) Victorian heroine factor

It almost seems superfluous to even mention Sirius (and, to a lesser degree, Regulus) Black in this category. This category was made for Sirius, as is apparent when reading lynxindisguises (2023) description of the victorian heroine factor, in response to a question by the scholar @plecotusauritus:

“the Victorian Heroine Factor is a deeply scientific assessment of the Vibes. Is this person giving tragically beautiful, windswept Victorian Heroine, sobbing gently into their hands while sprawled across a boulder or a well or a fountain of some sort? When they look up at you, do their tear-plumped lips part elegantly as a single tear slides down their cheek?”

(9) elegant tear-wiping

There hasn't been a lot of research in this area, but I would like to propose handkerchiefs with embroidered initials and family crests as another potential factor in favor of the Black brothers scoring high marks in this category as well as the Victorian heroine factor.

(10) post-cry glow

Artbyace (2023) claims “lily is always beautiful (…) even when crying”, which is echoed by znelda’s (2023) earlier claim that “Lily (…) [is] a woman and no woman is ugly when crying.”

Sirius is the other popular choice by marauders scholars for this category, with @in-flvx (2023) stating that he “handsomely handsomes while dying after 12 years of torture hell and another year in shackles”, which would mean that “a few tears would[n’t] stop him from being the hottest person in the room at all times” (ibid).

Additional parameters

I am suggesting to introduce an additional metric in order to further specify and better assess the ugly-crying levels:

(11) explosiveness of cry

@felixantares (2023) introduces the idea that Remus “is the type that very few people have been seen cry because he ignores every difficult emotion hes (sic) ever had (…) and it all explodes at once and its horrible to watch when he breaks down”, a sentiment shared by several of the other authors mentioned above in various other categories.

Further opinions & conclusions

The most popular consensus seems to be that Sirius cannot be the ugliest crier, sometimes also in direct comparison to his brother: @spindrifters (2023) answers the question of the ugliest crier with “obviously it’s regulus”, elaborating that “at least [it’s] definitely not sirius bc (sic) reg is canonically less handsome in all ways” which brings up the question if regular beauty plays into ugly crying. This is contrasted by lynxindisguises argument, that Sirius may be an ugly crier because he’s so gorgeous, and his ugly crying subverts the expectations of beauty:

“the most beautiful man alive looks hideous while crying, and his deeply awkward and perpetually damp bf (sic) is literally in his element while crying – dampness becomes him, you might say.”

This statement raises yet another question – does regular crying make the crier more or less ugly? Can an ugly crier become a pretty crier by practice or are we all born either ugly or pretty criers, condemned to this fate for life?

While this paper has given an overview of the current state of research to ugly crying/pretty crying, it has also raised many more questions. Other topics which may be addressed in future papers also include the philosophical question whether ugly crying is in the eye of the beholder and if it is possible to ugly cry without being perceived, and if it is possible to ugly cry if the person perceiving you doesn’t find it ugly. Since the research field of ugly crying is a relatively new one, we can only hope to read many more opinions on these and other topics in the future, and I look forward to reading different scholar’s approaches to these highly relevant topics.

#marauders #the science of ugly crying #cat's highly profesh fandom science #idek what to tag this as lol #i don't write fic i only write pseudo scientific papers on fandom analysis (apparently) lol i had so much fun writing this #even if just 1 person reads it i'll be happy i know it's ridiculous #scientific analysis of ugly crying #akso i tried to tag everyone i mentioned to make it feel more like i'm actually quoting them (which i am) but if anyone doesn't want to be #tagged in this lmk and i'll remove it haha #anyways okay i'll post it now #this is what happens when i go on tumblr during work hours and then keep thinking about how much more fun editing papers would be if they #were about the marauders instead of the things i have to read/edit at work #hp #remus lupin #sirius black #james potter #lily evans #regulus black #(this thing has almost 2k words and i wrote it in 2-3hours)#idek what that says about me #that this is how i chose to spend my tuesday evening #but i love it

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pierog · 2 years

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after a bath, a play with her trainer’s child, and a kiss on the nose, laika was sent up to orbit in sputnik 2.

"Laika was quiet and charming ... I wanted to do something nice for her: She had so little time left to live." -Vladimir Yazdovsky, medical scientist

her satellite transmitted for 7 days on the frequencies 20.005 MHz and 40.010 MHz. enclosed is the recording of Laika’s heartbeat before passing away from overheating.

did she die for her country, for the progress of humanity and space exploration? some say she did. it made no difference to little Laika, floating in the great expanse of space above, peering down through the satellite’s single window, built just for her; the shaggiest, lonesomest, goodest girl in the world.

“Work with animals is a source of suffering to all of us. We treat them like babies who cannot speak. The more time passes, the more I'm sorry about it. We shouldn't have done it ... We did not learn enough from this mission to justify the death of the dog.” -Oleg Gazenko, leading scientist, and Laika’s trainer

#laika #soviet space dogs #history #tw animal death #in my masters science writing paper we had to pick a scientist to study throughout the semester #and instead of a scientist i did laika.#i wrote a few books about her. one of them was an e-book and the last page is just black except for this audio recording #and i never cried so much as uni during that semester. memories of listening to this in the med library just sobbing my eyes out #she was the best girl but i wish she wasnt. she never had to be #personal #dog #ussr history #it's the anniversary so i thought i would post this #even though it physically hurts me to listen to

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littlesoka7567 · 1 year

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I wanna see Hunter just going absolutely feral.

Bad batch spoilers, rated M

Imagine he gets to the planet Omega and Crosshair are on. He manages to get into the base somehow, and he doesn’t even wait for Echo and Wrecker. He doesn’t use the stun feature. The entire landing pad is gone by the time the other two join him.

He’s pushing on, through hallways. He shoots down storm troopers as he goes, paying attention to which ones are just troopers and which ones look like higher ups.

“Um, Hunter?” Echo asks, his blaster raised but still cold from disuse.

Hunter finally finds an officer. Grabs him by the throat, slams him into the wall. “Where’s Hemlock?” He growls, teeth bared.

Echo and Wrecker pause behind him, blasters raised at the ready for any back up this officer may call.

“I don’t know,” the officer chokes, hands uselessly clawing at Hunter’s arms. “But if I did, I wouldn’t tell you.”

“I believe you,” Hunter spits, and the blast in the officer’s stomach forces the man limp.

“Hunter?” Wrecker asks, eyes looking on worriedly.

Hunter doesn’t answer. He goes through a door. Another. Dead bodies pile up, never even had a chance to shoot back. Hunter doesn’t pause, doesn’t stop moving. He shoots as he goes.

Through another door. Down a flight of stairs. Another officer. He shoots everyone else, aims his blaster at the officer’s face. “Hemlock,” is all he says.

“I know where he is!” The officer says, hands raised in surrender. “I can take you to him!”

“Where is he?” Hunter growls.

“Floor -70. He’ll have heard the alarms by now. He’ll be in his bunker.”

Hunter shoves the man into Wrecker’s chest, who grabs him by the scruff of the neck and starts walking him to follow Hunter.

Elevators. Hunter fucking hates elevators. They’re slow, they force him to stand still. The officer won’t stop whimpering, face forced to look at the floor.

“Hunter,” Echo tries again.

Hunter works his jaw. Tilts his head just slightly to show he’s listening.

“What’s the plan?”

Hunter rolls his jaw again, looking back at the elevator doors. “Find Hemlock. Make him take us to Omega. Get out.”

“Are there any…in between steps?”

Hunter doesn’t answer. The door opens. He shoots down everyone running at him. Echo stuns the ones running away. Wrecker punches a few people in white coats standing in doorways.

“Take a left up here,” their captive whimpers out, refusing to look at the fallen teammates. “It’s a long hallway. His bunker will be at the very end.”

Hunter does. It’s only lab coats now. Hunter shoots them down, uncaring.

They reach the door, and Hunter kicks it in easily. It’s not a bunker. It’s an office. Hemlock isn’t there. He turns to their captive, fury turning his vision red.

“He’s supposed to be here!” The man cries, wincing as Wrecker’s hold tightens on his neck. “He said he would be here if there was ever an invasion.”

Hunter walks over to him, grabbing his chin. Wrecker lets go. The man whimpers, the words to beg for his life dying on his tongue. “I believe you,” Hunter says. For a second, a flicker of hope lights up the man’s eyes. But then those eyes go dull as Hunter quickly snaps his neck.

“Hunter!” Echo hisses, disapproval painting his voice.

Hunter ignores him. He pushes past them both, forcing his way back down the long corridor. He takes a right where he before took a left.

“Clones!” Wrecker yells, looking at the cells upon cells of locked up clones.

“I’ll let them out,” Echo says, something raw in his voice. “This must be where they’re taking the decommissioned clones. Rex was telling me about a mission to save-“

Hunter holds up a hand, indicating silence. Echo’s voice falters, stops.

Hunter listens. The prisoners are yelling, begging for release. Distractions. “Silence!” Hunter yells, after shooting three rounds into the ceiling.

Quiet. Good. He closes his eyes, focusing. “Wrecker, with me. Echo-go ahead.”

He feels more than sees Echo nod his affirmative, and he sets to work on unlocking the doors.

Hunter leads Wrecker down the hall. Left. Right. Another right. Through a door. Another left. Pauses, has to shoot a guard. Through a door.

Hunter raises the gun, aiming it at the woman in a white coat. “She looks important,” Wrecker says softly.

“My name is Emerie Karr,” she stutters out. “I’m the lead scientist.”

“And I care because?” Hunter growls, stepping forward and getting the blaster closer to her chest.

“I’m the one working on Omega and Crosshair.”

Hunter’s blood goes cold. He stops breathing. His hand shakes. “Where. Is. She?” He spits through gritted teeth.

“This way,” she says, but doesn’t indicate or move. She only stares at the blaster.

“Move!” Hunter yells, frightening her. She starts to back up, but realizes that’s not fast enough quickly. More rooms. Moor hallways. More doors. It takes no time at all and an eternity.

“She’s in this room,” Emerie says softly. “Hemlock is in there.”

“Open. The. Door.”

Wrecker moves closer, blaster trained on her. “I’ve got her, Hunter. You check it out.”

Hunter can barely hear over the blood pounding in his ears. The door opens. His blaster aims inward, no target yet. He looks around, his own breathing deafening him.

“Hunter!”

He almost breaks.

The high pitched voice is scared. Hunter momentarily worries he’s covered in blood. If he’s scaring her. But no; it’s not him. It’s Hemlock.

“Take one more step and I shoot her,” Hemlock’s low, soft voice lilts. As if he’s the one in control.

Hunter aims his blaster, teeth bared in aggression. “I won’t ask you twice,” Hunter spits.

Hemlock presses the gun more firmly into Omega’s temple, and the girl cries out in pain or fear. “You aren’t the one making demands here, Hunter.” His voice annoys Hunter, and the growl which rips through his throat is involuntary.

Hunter’s entire body is shaking with the desire to rip Hemlock apart. “Omega is too close,” Emerie whispers unhelpfully.

“Put the gun down, Hunter. It’s over. Put the gun down and let my scientist in the room. My guards will be here shortly.”

Hunter grins, too much teeth to be anything other than threatening. Any guards will be meeting the fury of countless decommissioned clones right about now.

Hemlock seems undeterred. “I’m only keeping her alive to control Nala Se. I don’t care if she lives or dies. Now that Nala Se has seen her, I can convince her Omega is safe and held in a cell. You’re the one who wants her alive.”

Hunter laughs, and it sounds so unlike anything he’s ever made before. “If you kill her, I will tear you apart, piece by piece, until you beg for mercy that won’t come.”

Hemlock has the sense to at least hesitate now. He looks between Hunter and Wrecker, whose gun is still aimed at Emerie.

Omega cries softly, not looking at Hunter anymore. “I’m scared,” she whispers.

Hunter fights back the urge to growl again. He works his jaw instead, eyes flicking from her to Hemlock. He sees movement behind the pair as he does; it takes everything inside of him to not focus on the body slowly inching towards them.

“You hear that?” Hemlock asks, voice somehow still calm and soft. Taunting. Hunter bares his teeth in rage, allowing Hemlock to think he took the bait. “She’s scared. Do you think she’s scared of me, or of you?”

Wrecker shifts behind him, and Hunter can practically see the excitement he’s trying to conceal. Hunter ignores them both. “Omega,” Hunter pleads, lowering his gun. “I’d never hurt you,” he promises.

Omega looks up, eyes full of tears. “Hunter,” she whines.

Hemlock pretends to coo, mockingly. “Hunter,” he copies, but a wicked smile distorts his face into something inhuman. Emerie’s breath catches as she notices, but Wrecker presses the blaster more firmly into the back of her neck. “Go ahead and put the gun down, Hunter. I win.”

Hunter holds his gun tighter, still lowered to point at the floor. He grits his teeth, pretending to fight himself on what to do. “It’s okay, Omega,” Hunter says softly. “Just look at me.”

Omega stares into Hunter’s eyes, her own full of tears. “I want to go home,” she says.

Hunter takes one hand off the gun, pretending to raise it in surrender. “I’m here, Omega. I’m here.”

Hemlock laughs in victory, aiming the gun instead at Hunter. Stupid, arrogant mistake. “That’s right. Put that gun down. Nice and slow.”

The blow is sudden, and hard. Hemlock loses consciousness immediately, and Omega sprints for Hunter’s arms. Hunter catches her easily, arms wrapping around her and holding her as tightly as he can.

“You lose,” Crosshair spits, swaying on his feet. He leans heavily on the bench Hemlock is now slouched over.

Wrecker hits Emerie over the back of the head with the handle of his blaster, and is pushing past Hunter and Omega before her body hits the floor. He throws Crosshair’s arm over his shoulder, using one arm to help support his weight. “I knew you were still in there somewhere,” Wrecker says lowly.

Hunter pets Omega’s hair, holding her to his chest. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you. I’m here now.”

“Hunter,” Omega cries, tiny fists clenching at his hair to keep him close.

“Hunter,” Echo calls from behind them. “Rex is on his way to get the decommissioned clones. Or…” his voice turns sad for a moment. “The ones who are left. There were a lot of guards here.”

Hunter raises himself from his kneeling position, bringing Omega with him. Her legs wrap around his waist, and he half rests her on his hip. “Good. Help Crosshair. Wrecker, grab Hemlock.” All three of his brothers hesitate, questions on the tip of their tongues. “Now,” Hunter growls.

Wrecker gently passes Crosshair to Echo, and then throws Hemlock over his shoulder. Omega buries her face in Hunter’s neck, quiet sobs breaking his heart.

They make their way to the elevator, and Hunter glares at the escapees so they won’t join them. There isn’t much room left anyway.

“I’m sorry,” Crosshair says after several minutes of silence.

Hunter looks to him, and for the first time since Ord Mantell, his face softens. He raises the hand not holding Omega to cup his shoulder, squeezing. He doesn’t say anything; he doesn’t need to. The sigh of relief Crosshair tries to hide is indicative of message received.

There’s a lot of questions which will be asked later. Later. Once they’re free from this hell planet. Once Omega is safe on their ship. Once he has time.

#the bad batch #the bad batch spoilers #clone trooper hunter #my writing #I wrote this in one sitting instead of doing my paper so I’m sorry if it’s really bad 😂

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alsojnpie · 8 months

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you know something. i love you a whole lot.

#loving him and loving my little scrap paper doodles of him #is a form of self love that resonates with me so strongly #oooooOOOOOOOHHHHH i have rediscovered a song that makes my slfship go crazy #O _ O #(that's a picture of my face while inside my mind I'm pacing back and forth. looking all around #and thinking about things with feelings instead of words)#iiiiiiii neeeeeeeeeeeeed hiiiiiiiimmmmmmmmmmm bu it's hard to explain #i wish i could talk about it or write an essay about it or even just draw him but #can't right now. so unsatisfying #maybe I'll. read the things i wrote again. I'm able to do that now a little!!!! it's nice #i think. it would be fun. to do like an ask meme or something. you know. permission to type and send lots of words #i tend to avoid those though because. that takes a lot of time #then i feel bad when i can't answer it. or when i can but too many words

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playertwotails · 1 year

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Okay I got thoughts about Tails and how much of a little badass he is and this is gonna be a long ramble with spoilers for like most everything I can think of so buckle up if you keep reading.

The villains of the Sonic universe are doing themselves a disservice by only seeing Sonic as a threat and that if they take them out they’re good to go. But Tails is arguably the main problem to all their plans going south and none of them have really taken that into account in any media that I can remember.

Like okay Forces didn’t do a great job of portraying this side of Tails and they murdered his characterization in that game. Frontiers had to backpedal hard to try and fix it, I think they did a pretty good job for the the band-aid they had to slap on for an explanation as to why Tails was like that in that game honestly. Saying he was essentially overwhelmed and couldn’t be brave and fell apart cause he is you know still just an 8 year old child, is a pretty solid explanation honestly. But still Forces really didn’t know how to write Tails around the Sonic OC monstrosity I know most of us made. If they wrote Tails with his previous characterization in mind there wouldn’t have been a point to the player character cause Tails probably would have kept Eggman at like 50% and saved Sonic. (side note making the OC player character lowkey terrify was hilarious in cut scenes if you went that route and if you didn’t go back and play the game and just make the most terrifying creature game lets you trust me it’s worth the laugh).

But stumbling off my Forces soapbox, none of their rogues gallery seems to put two and two together that they’d probably win if Tails wasn’t there to come up with a counter plan to theirs.

Just to like build on why Tails is such a threat the their villains I’m gonna start with just Tails’ physical traits:

To start, Tails can keep up with Sonic. Very few characters are listed as being able to do that (granted most game mechanics have to make it so other characters can also keep up with Sonic). But in all the written out lore and characterization it's usually mentioned that Tails is an outlier in how he can keep up with Sonic and that's part of the reason they became friends.

Obvious one, Tails can fly. Meaning he has a whole other terrain he can fight in and leaving it to gravity in a fight with him will fail. And combine that with his speed being up there with Sonic's and now nowhere is safe from him.

Tails can pack a punch. He's been fighting since a young age, younger than most of the older characters even, and is best friends with Sonic and Knuckles so of course the kid knows how to hit something and fight.

Tails is really strong. I know that one twitter take over has a joke that Tails is ripped but like he'd kinda have to be. We've seen him able to carry both Sonic and Knuckles at the same time and not to mention all the heavy machinery he works with regularly. That 8 year old is pure fluff and muscle.

Now here's where Tails goes from menace to threat for their rogues gallery:

To start with Tails is a super genius. At 8 he's on par with Eggman in intelligence, a man with a doctorate and who's been at this for years, and at times out out classes him (i.e. see the zombot arc Tails figured out a cure when Eggman couldn't against his own virus)

He's made a fake chaos emerald that was next to indistinguishable from a real one. Like I might make a whole separate post about this one later but this child made something that was essentially close in power to a god-like entity, like what the actual fuck.

He's defused a nuke. Eggman did not foresee a baby that apparently has a part time job as a one man bomb squad wrecking his plans.

Ace pilot skills. Wasn't sure if I should put this here or the list above, but I'm putting it here cause my list. But just any sort of air battle Tails has covered either with his own tails or a plane, the sky's are his.

No one really talks about this from Sonic X but Tails built a whole ass functioning space craft Star Trek Enterprise style that they all lived on for months, had artificial gravity, and fuck you levels of weaponry. I know nothing is really canon from that show but I mean how could I not list it.

Tails is the one that comes up with the plan or invention that Sonic and gang use to win (usually he is...Amy seems to have taken over the more plan side of things in IDW comics during/after Forces for big battles, and we love this for her in this house). But like Tails is the one whose invention or plan usually ends up being the main reason they win.

Tails has a super form and can use chaos energy. Like despite what the line up of the cast who can go super form would have people believe, this is actually stated to be a rare trait that few have the ability to actually do. (it's like going super saiyan, cause it ripped it off, stated to be rare then everyone can just do it cause plot)

Tails is just such a one man army at 8 years old that I see him just becoming an even bigger threat as they get older. Cause he's canonically 7 years younger than Sonic and one of the youngest characters in the cast. Meaning he's got room to grow still and if he can keep up with the older character at 8 how strong is this kid gonna be by the time he reaches Sonic's current age of 15.

Like I see it that as they get older Sonic will still be the main protector of the planet and a thorn in all their villains sides. But like if Tails walks up that's it..fight over..you lost..don't stop at go to collect $200 just do your self a favor and go straight to jail.

Out of the whole cast, though they are all young and could only get stronger at this point with age, Tails has the most potential out of all of them with just how many skills this kids has on him.

Also throwing this in here cause I can, Sonic is one of the few if not only person who recognizes this about Tails. It's why he trusts Tails so much and falls back on him when things go bad (also trusts him cause Tails is his best friend/little brother/family figure). Sonic is well aware that his little brother will more than likely one day surpass him and he's proud of that. Sonic pretty much raised Tails so he has a weird combination of proud older brother/almost-parental proud feelings about it. They're brothers you honor.

Welp this is my ramble about Tails cause he's one of my favorite characters ever. Feel free to add on to it if anyone else thinks of anything that I missed. This was all 100% rambles from memory and I have shit memory so I know for a fact I missed something.

#tails the fox #miles tails prower #sonic the hedgehog #I just love tails alright he's fluffy and adorable and can kick ass #all the best traits #wrote this cause it's been on my mind and I called out from work today cause I feel awful #instead of 10 hours of paper work today I'm writing this #but yeah Tails has been my favorite character since I was still in the single digits of age #so it's been a while of him at the top of my list considering I'm closer to 30 now than I am my teen years #time may be an unstoppable force no one can fight against in terms of aging but fav characters are forever #spoilers #just a general spoilers tag cause we'd be here all day if i listed each spoiler individually

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zlobonessa · 1 year

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so. i said that i'm gonna write a thesis on reinhard/regulus completely unprovoked. well i wrote a thesis on them completely unprovoked.

god if only my school english teacher knew what I'm doing with the lessons she taught me.....

0. The Prologue: why am i writing that?

because i want to. i have a brainrot. thanks for the attention.

1. The Parallels

To start off, the first thing we need is to establish who the characters are. i have little to no interest in recycling same old fandom wiki articles, which is why the approach i'm taking here is a bit different: let's study at these characters as paralles of each other.

When you look at Regulus character closely, it becomes apparent that he is written as a parallel, foil to Reinhard. Their upbringings are radically different, but in the such way that they mirror each other: Reinhard comes from a wealthy aristocratic family, since birth receiving privileges most people could only dream of; Regulus was born in a poor family with little to no opportunities; they both have alcoholic fathers, but Heinkel despises his son, while Regulus' dad loved him; some would say that Reinhard grew up having everything except that one thing that mattered, and Regulus grew up not having anything except the one thing that mattered.

(I actually have a couple of objections to this worldwiev, but we are not doing anticapitalism analysis here (yet), so let's interpret it like author intended.)

Their relationships with their own powers are also quite intriguing. The unstoppable force, the unmovable object (what if they kissed?). Their life paths are defined by Sword God and The Gospel respectively. Reinhard doesn't choose to have the Divine Protection of the Sword Saint, but it was destined to be his since day one; Regulus (presumably) takes Authority of Greed willingly, changing his fate from the unremarkable son to the archbishop of the Witch Cult; and yes, they both commit murder of their own family members right after.

Their personalities are also couldn't be more different. Reinhard is everything that Regulus isn't (📌), kind and forgiving, respectful, brave, modest. Regulus postulates that he possesses all these qualities, but in reality, well. And Reinhard, in turn, isn't really sure about actually having these traits.

(and that's where the interesting part comes!)

2. The Interactions

Well, the whole point of ships is to watch how the characters interact, isn't it? Let's look that we have here.

Firstly, the battle with Regulus is incredibly entertaining on its own. Regulus is born to be a chew toy, and it's unbelievably satisfying to see him being thrown in all sorts of garbage.

Also, the very enjoyable part of this fight is a demonstration of Reinhard's..... well, i don't really wanna call it "bitch side". He deserves it! He applies it to people who are definitely deserve it!

Anyway, here is a compilation of my favourite moments where Reinhard is very politely destroys that little fucker:

Speaking simply, interactions between Reinhard and Regulus are fun, and isn't it all that matters?

But also.... let's look how the parallels (see part 1) play a part here.

On the first glance, the fight is very classic "good guy vs bad guy". The masks stay on, and all the roles are played. But there's something.....

.....interesting going on here.

For the brief moments, we get glimpses of the aspects of their personalities that they don't really like to display. Regulus says a lot of things that Reinhard thinks about himself; but the thing is that, at least at some level, Regulus also thinks all that about himself.

(there is also an absolutely awesome revised version of Regulus' monologue in LN, where instead of mentioning Echidna (?) he keeps going "I'm not wrong I'm not wrong I'm not wrong I'm not wrong" on and on and on. my favourite part honestly.)

Being perceived as someone needing kindness is unbearable for Regulus: for him, deserving kindness means being pathetic, pitiful, lacking something. Reinhard craves kindness, but doesn't think he particularly deserves it: for him, deserving kindness means failing. Regulus dies alone, never understanding what he did wrong. Reinhard wins thanks to support of his friends, and yet his hero mentality also runs way too deep, and he comes out of the battle with the same inability to rely on other people.

also, this part:

it's hot, it's brutal and also really sad if you think about it way too much.

3. The Possibilities

So now that we explored that canon has to offer, the question arises: so what?

(or: this is the part where i throw my headcanons at you and make it sound like science.)

The undeniable comic potential of this ship is obvious: the Most Extraordinary guy who never once in his life said "fuck" (even though he is one who deserves it the most) and the Most Ordinary guy who need to have his mouth washed with soap.

(also i need y'all to know what one of the first ideas i had for this ship is very vivid mental image of reinhard holding on a leash a very small and very loud white pomeranian dog. do with this whatever you want.)

But also. Also. This ship has a possibility to be the biggest trainwreck ever. They could make each other worse. They could completly destroy each other's understanding of themselves. I run out of picture limit but that one post "would you date a hater" "in a heartbeat" is soooo reinhardcoded to me. The combination of emotional constipation is abysmal. They are ace4ace to me. The Reinhard's family situation could be the source of the most horrific forbidden romance where you can clearly see exactly why this was forbidden in the first place. They could send Wilhelm in coma. They could send Julius in coma. Do you remember the 📌? The 📌 was there to talk about the two-sided Jealousy: jealousy that the other is who you could never be vs jealousy that the other is who he voluntarily ceased to be. Have i mentioned the potential for Religious Themes? The Natural-Born god vs The Self-Made Devil? Also, the anticapitalism/anti-monarchism? The goldmine right here. The absolutely insane amount of body issues that comes from not being able to feel pain for years? Shaking from only imagining it. Themes of justice, the conversation of necessity to kill people to achieve it? Just waiting to happen. Also may i remind you that Regulus participates in all these conversations which means that all willing and unwilling listeners will get the brain damage but on the bright side this will be incredibly funny. And-

4. The Conclusion

In conclusion, i Am Chewing On Wires. they are So. h elp.

#re zero #the actual conclusion is that reinhard as the ultimate feminist ally is bravely saving all women in the world by dating regulus himself #also. koa.#it's your turn 👁️👅👁️#also i wrote this instead of writing actual fanfics about them #and with far more dedication than I have ever given to my term papers lmao #and also i don't want to even imagine the amount of mistakes i made here #blah blah i have no respect for this language otr whatever blah blah blah #regulus corneas #reinhard van astrea

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starswallowingsea · 1 year

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a little assassin himeru thing. because i could.

word count: 839

cw for emetophobia/vomiting and violence

this is probably going to stay in wip hell for a while so you get what you get

HiMERU’s blade pressed against Amagi’s throat. Just one quick cut and it would be over. He’s done this a hundred times over and it got easier the more he did it and yet…

He found himself hesitating. Amagi’s bright blue eyes filled with betrayal, the cool steel against his neck not deterring him from trying to grab HiMERU’s wrist. HiMERU grabbed his hands and pinned them above his head.

It was just one cut.

“Merumeru, what’s gotten into you?” Amagi asks, still in shock. Shiina should be dead by now too if Oukawa had kept up his end of the deal. HiMERU had heard the thump of something hitting the ground in the room next to them, and he knew Amagi heard it too.

HiMERU pressed the blade deeper, droplets of blood dripping down Amagi’s neck, but still not enough force to kill him.

“You’re scarin’ me Meru. What’s going on?”

HiMERU’s chest tightened, heartbeat pounding in his ears. What was he doing? He was…he was supposed to kill Amagi. That had been his goal from the beginning when he had first joined up with them. Oukawa had joined later and had confided in HiMERU that he was on a similar mission, to dispatch the trouble-making team of Rinne Amagi and Niki Shiina.

They had even agreed to take them out at the same time and make less trouble for the both of them. HiMERU would take down Amagi because he was stronger and more adept at taking down brutes like him, and Kohaku would use his small size to his advantage on Shiina.

The knife clattered to the ground but HiMERU barely processed it as he wrapped his hands around Amagi’s throat to squeeze. It didn’t matter how he killed the man, just that the deed was done. Maybe a crime of passion was a more fitting end for the high-rolling gambler.

HiMERU squeezed his hands as tight as he could, but it wasn’t tight enough. A sob escaped his throat as his hands were yanked away. Amagi grasped at his neck to protect it from another choking attempt, but HiMERU was pushing him back down. HiMERU shoved himself off of Amagi’s body, still trying to recover from the attack but still alive and fighting.

The world was spinning and HiMERU, he felt bile rising in his throat. Before his eyes flashed a memory from just a few nights ago where the four of them had come to an agreement. They’d give the money they were planning on stealing to a local orphanage at HiMERU’s suggestion.

It was the orphanage that he had grown up in, before he had been taken in by the Priest and Godfather. He knew what it was like to live there, how joyless it had been for him and his peers (I don’t think I could have called them friends. We were so young) that it felt right somehow, to give the kids there now a chance at happiness, even if only for a moment.

They were due to deliver the money tomorrow.

HiMERU couldn’t hold it back anymore and retched the contents of his stomach into the dilapidated hallway. What was he doing? He hadn’t had a reaction like this since his first mission when he was sixteen.

A door slammed beside him from the next room and a frightened Oukawa and Shiina came running out. They were fretting over him now, and Oukawa had apparently failed to kill his target as well. At least they were in the same boat, but they were about to be in real trouble once Shiina and Amagi regained their senses.

HiMERU wiped the bile from his lips with the back of his hand, golden eyes meeting violet ones. Oukawa was shaking and HiMERU felt his stomach sink.

I remember what it was like to be his age, the fear he must be feeling right now at failing his task and having to report to his superiors with a target painted on his back.

It was all too familiar for HiMERU.

Amagi finally came to his senses and joined them in the doorway, HiMERU’s vomit still on the floor soaking through their shoes. Disgusting, dirty, it made him want to throw up again (and I almost did).

Amagi is angry I need to leave Amagi is angry I need to leave Amagi is angry I need to leave--

A gentle hand finds its way to HiMERU’s shoulder.

“HiMERU-kun, what’s going on?” Shiina’s voice was so gentle. I didn’t deserve it.

His breath hitched, stuck in his throat.

“HiMERU,” Amagi started. Full name. This was bad bad bad bad. “Why did you try to kill me?”

HiMERU looked at Oukawa, who simply nodded. They needed to come clean.

“HiMERU, he…I…was hired to.” His chest was tightening again. “We were hired to kill you both.”

“We?”

“He means him and I,” Oukawa interjected. “Both of us, though by different people.”

“So why didn’t you? It’s not like we could have held it against you if you succeeded.”

“I couldn’t.”

#shay speaks #shay writes #enstars #ensemble stars #himeru #rinne amagi #kohaku oukawa #niki shiina #eventually maybe i'll add more context to this but i kinda just saw this scene in my head so i wrote it instead of doing #my actual papers that are due this week lol #THE POV CHANGES ARE INTENTIONAL BTW THATS SMTH THAT WOULD BE EXPLORED MORE #IF I MADE THIS LONGER/EXPANDED ON THIS

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esta-elavaris · 7 months

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Thinking the suprisingly wholesome thing about tumblr (and when I do a yearly IG anon thing with the NGL app, too) is that so, so few people use it to be absolute shits.

Like, 99% of the time (unless you're burdened with being a really big creator and in that case I pray for you), people use it because they're just a wee bit shy about being nice off-anon? And like same, bestie, I get it, but it makes me think of how many times I've been somewhere and I've noticed that someone has like, a gorgeous jacket or an amazing look or whatever and I'm so tempted to compliment them on it, but I am socially anxious and I don't want to be weird or creepy or I'm worried about their reaction being bad, so I say nothing? And the person never even knows that I was sitting like 😍 for a good thirty seconds debating on complimenting them. And then you realise how many people have probably had that exact same feeling around you, so they just sort of quietly admire and move on because slipping an anonymous note into someone's jacket being like "your vibe is God Tier" is serial killer behaviour.

With the IG thing, for example, I remember a friend who I have a very joke-y banter relationship with used it as a chance to be like 'I never say this because we don't talk like that but I really respect and admire you and I'm glad we're friends" and it just stopped me in my tracks bc it's so easy for us as individuals to just never think others go around thinking that way?

#i remember we did a game like that at a social thing i was at in my old city #where everybody had a sheet of paper with their name at the top #and it got passed around and everybody wrote something they thought about them #[it was a very healthy environment so it wasn't awkward and nobody was an asshole]#and i was so prepared for like just a list of stilted awkward compliments bc people were like 'oh god well i have to write SOMETHING'#but instead i ended up with a big list of really lovely personal things that people had noticed?#and it just stoped me in my tracks #especially bc i'm so quiet in person so i always assume the worst by assuming others are assuming the worst #idk there's some good in this world mr frodo etc etc

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paulmccartneygrindr · 2 months

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btw anon who asked me about songs i prommy you'll get an answer but unfortunately it's gonna be a lot more than u bargained for i'm so sorry.

#so far the post is over 4k words and i have a LOT more to go. why just list songs when u could write paragraphs about each one instead?#why not spend more time doing research than i did for my research paper i wrote to get my bachelor's degree?#im completely unfulfilled as a human being. if u couldn't tell.

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pendraegon · 1 year

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being in grad school is like. i am too old to be having finals.

#my coding final is so. SCREAM. literally we have not learned a majority of this what IS this</3 #i think it's bc the prof wrote it instead of our TA who has been writing all our assignments this sem but everyone in the class has been #befuddled. bamboozled... anyways..#at this point im like. just slapping SOME code down i have to work on my other final projects and papers</3

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somethingexcessivelyphallic · 1 year

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Chapters: 66/80 Fandom: Homestuck Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Dave Strider/Karkat Vantas, Minor or Background Relationship(s) Characters: Dave Strider, Karkat Vantas, Sollux Captor, Aradia Megido, Kanaya Maryam, Terezi Pyrope, Vriska Serket, Gamzee Makara Additional Tags: Getting Together, The Sims, The Sims 4, Falling In Love, Coffee Shops, Aliens, Disguise, Trolls (Homestuck), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn, the slowest of burns, Quadrant Confusion, Eventual Smut, Humanstuck, Internalized Homophobia, Dave Strider/Karkat Vantas Kismesissitude, Dave Strider/Karkat Vantas Moirallegiance, Dave Strider/Karkat Vantas Matespritship, Dave Strider/Karkat Vantas Auspistism, Fluff, Angst, davekat - Freeform, Caliginous Romance | Kismesis, Flushed Romance | Matesprits, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance, Ashen Romance | Auspistice, Quadrant Vacillation, Albino Dave Strider, Human Karkat Vantas, Filipino Karkat Vantas, Xenophilia, Alien/Human Relationships, Human/Troll Relationship (Homestuck), Troll Genitalia (Homestuck), Bulges and Nooks (Homestuck), homosuck, Sexism, Toxic Masculinity, Idiots in Love, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Masturbation, First Kiss, Abusive Dave's Bro | Beta Dirk Strider, Alien Abduction, Fluff and Angst, Eugenics (Homestuck Trolls), Trans Vriska Serket, Panquadrant Troll Romance (Homestuck), First Date Summary:

Karkat left behind everything he knew when he was forced to flee Alternia. Settling into life on Earth as a human had been surprisingly easy. That is, until Dave fucking Strider started working with Karkat and fucking ruined everything!

EDIT May 29 2023: I have added a BONUS Chapter 32! All the chapters have now been bumped up.

#simstuck #davekat #davekat fic recs #my writing #chapter 66 up now babes #i was supposed to write my paper today #but I wrote this instead #i hope it was worth it yo #😅

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biromanticbookbabe · 2 years

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Okay, so I had to completely rewrite my scholarship contest entry because the school will own it, if it wins. I was going to use my characters that were in my novel and now I can’t do that. So instead I kept some similar themes and rewrote it.

#still WWI gay people but different characters #not the ones in my novel #the main character is an American Female Husband instead of having a gay solider talking about his friend who is a Female Husband #Don't know why but very gay WWI/1920s has been my historic obsession for half this year #I have a week to kick a new idea around and finish it #I really should finish my final paper first #my concentration is shit lol #scholarship money is not to be sneezed at especially when I'm still taking out loans even after the forgiveness #like Biden and Harris' forgiveness will help me but I will still owe some money by the time I get my MA #writing #my writing #mychatter #literally this character came to me this morning and I wrote her story down #I'm still writing it #writeblr #I need luck and concentration to finish my paper first #writing fiction is so much easier than analytical writingggg #grad school

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osaemu · 5 months

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GOJO SATORU: HUNGRY FOR MORE

✩ ‧ ˚. serial killer!gojo x detective!reader: fucking the serial killer you're supposed to be arresting might be the best (or worst) decision you've ever made. PART 2 | NSFW

contents: fem!reader. porn with plot, dubcon, public sex (in an alley), p –> v, orgasm denial, fingering, he cums inside, unprotected sex, degradation, praise, lil' bit of dumbification, hair pulling, squirting, dirty talk, manipulation/coercion, mentions of murder (he's a serial killer what did u expect), non-sexual mentions/usage of guns, probably more. 3K words.

author's note: wrote this instead of writing my research paper and studying for my math final. if this flops i will actually become the serial killer /j. anywaysss tagging @satoruhour @screampied @satorena.. and yes, the "season 2 coming soon" in the banner means something ;)

“looks like your little killing spree’s gonna have to come to an end,” you muse, crossing your arms and cocking an eyebrow at the man across from you. he grins back at you, and it’s almost unsettling—he looks a little too smug for a killer who’s just been caught.

“i don’t think so, sweetheart,” the man responds dryly, leaning back against the alley wall, features relaxed and at ease. he—satoru gojo—has been your target for a couple weeks, and now that you’ve finally cornered him, you find yourself feeling a little… unfulfilled. usually, when you caught criminals, they begged for mercy and showed a little more emotion than what satoru’s shown so far.

also, the criminals usually weren’t this good-looking.

you maintain eye contact with satoru while you carefully reach into your coat’s pocket, withdrawing your phone and unlocking it. unexpectedly, satoru doesn’t make any move to stop you from dialing the number to your boss, instead smiling coyly as you do so.

“so, you’re one of those guys who don’t care what happens to them?” you ask, tilting your head as you hold the phone to your ear. satoru shrugs and his grin only widens the longer your phone rings. ten seconds pass before your phone tells you that the number you dialed is currently busy, and satoru’s muffled laughter becomes unbearably suspicious. you narrow your eyes and involuntarily take a step back. “what’s with the smile?”

satoru scoffs and dips his head, pushing himself off the wall and taking a step towards you. “y’know, you’re rather brave, comin’ out to catch a serial killer all by yourself. and in the middle of the night, too.” he stops advancing when he sees you pull a gun out of your pocket and hold it up threateningly, a look of warning in your eyes. “okay, okay, relax. i’m not gonna do anything to your pretty face.”

“what did you do?” you ask suspiciously. satoru widens his eyes in mock disbelief, as if he’s completely and utterly shocked that you’d ever accuse him of anything.

“besides the fifteen separate counts of murder? not much, really.”

“i’m not an idiot,” you snap, cocking the gun and aiming it at his head. “you’re not the one in control here, satoru gojo. spit it out before i put a bullet through your skull.”

satoru laughs and holds his hands up in surrender. “fiesty, aren’t we? it’s alright, i like my girls with a little fire in them.” he tilts his head to the side and looks you up and down, eyes lingering on parts of you that suddenly make you feel naked, despite the coat covering most of your figure. “put down the gun, sweetheart, then we can talk.”

you wait a second, scanning satoru’s overly relaxed face before cautiously lowering the gun. “what are you hiding?” you ask again, eyes hardening.

“a lot of things. but i think you’re talking about what i did to your boss, right?”

“you have five seconds before i shoot you.”

satoru makes a face and then rolls his eyes dramatically. “fine, since you’re bein’ so pushy about it. i killed him, obviously. you’re a smart girl, shouldn’t you have figured that out by now?” when you don’t immediately answer, satoru sighs and shakes his head. “and here i thought that the girl who’d been tailing me for the past week would have a little sense in that pretty head of hers. looks like i was wrong.”

“shut it,” you snap again, re-dialing the number and letting your phone ring for fifteen seconds. when nobody picks up, you internally curse and think about what to do next. dialing 911 would be worth a try, but the look in satoru’s ice-blue eyes makes you think otherwise. despite the gun in your hand, something about him makes you entirely certain that he could overpower you, even if you landed a shot on him. and even if you just shot him right now, he’s been shown in the past to be able to function fine with a bullet through his chest. that’s how two of your subordinates lost their lives to him—by underestimating your city’s notorious killer.

so you decide to bide your time.

“ran out of options?” satoru asks smugly. he raises an eyebrow when you slide your phone back into your pocket and exhales a laugh. “you gonna wait for a big, strong man to rescue you? ‘cause i’m right here, honey, and i could be your savior.”

“that was actually the shittiest line i’ve ever heard,” you scoff, rolling your eyes at the self-satisfied look on his face. “are you seriously proud of that one?”

“well, it worked.”

he pushes himself off the alley wall and towards you so fast that you hardly even have time to process it, and before you know it, you’re the one pressed to a wall with a gun to the side of your head. satoru’s other hand grabs both your wrists and pins them above your head, and his face is close enough to the point where you can feel his breath—which is unexpectedly minty—on your cheeks as he grins down at you. “you really think i’d use a line as shitty as that if i didn’t know it’d make you lower your guard? tch, you really shoulda known better.”

you use every curse word you’ve ever heard in that moment and grit your teeth, rapidly thinking through all the possible ways you could get out of this situation, but nothing comes to mind. you’re quite literally stuck in between a rock and a hard place, with a gun pressed to your head and with your limbs out of commission.

satoru clicks his tongue and widens his eyes at you, leaning in closer. his lips are uncomfortably close to your own as he traces the gun down the side of your face, cold metal brushing against your heated skin. “not gonna fight back? that’s no fun.”

“the fuck you want me to do?” you snap irritably, glaring up at him and curling your hands into fists. satoru tightens his grip on your wrists and cooes a sarcastic apology to you, taking his time looking you up and down again. if you didn’t value your life, you probably would’ve said worse, but seeing as you were the only person in this ridiculously isolated alley, it wouldn’t be worth much.

“i dunno. didn’t that detective academy or whatever teach you anything?”

you roll your eyes again, and somewhere in the back of your mind, you consider the possibility of your eyes getting permanently stuck in the back of your head just because of him. “y’know, you’re not giving me a whole lot of options.”

satoru laughs. “if i did, that’d defeat the whole purpose, wouldn’t it?”

at this point, death would be preferable to hearing his idiot talk any longer.

“so, i’m gonna be the one asking the questions from now on,” satoru continues, clicking his tongue disapprovingly when you scowl. “if you behave, i won’t hurt you that badly, ‘kay? keep that in mind.”

“thought you liked your girls feisty.”

“oh, that’s true,” satoru muses thoughtfully. “yeah, never mind, you can be a little bratty. i need a reason to fuck you stupid anyways,” he grins after a moment of consideration.

“what the fuck?”

“you heard me, sweetheart,” satoru cooes, feeling his pants tighten as he watches your eyes widen. your “tough” demeanor drops for a split second, and satoru can’t help but want to fuck it off again when it returns. your scowl deepens and you frantically think through all your options again, but there isn’t a whole lot you can do at this point.

“if you wanna stay alive, you’ll be a good girl and you won’t scream,” satoru murmurs, leaning in closer and pressing his lips to yours. you grit your teeth and try to shove him away with your shoulder, but it doesn’t do much. satoru smiles against your lips and hums softly, pulling away with an almost affectionate look on his face. it’s so at odds with who he is and what he’s done that you drop your guard again, wanting to believe that he really will keep his promise not to hurt you.

satoru sees the shift in your features and smiles tenderly, all traces of his borderline-sadistic look gone. he studies your face for a moment and kisses the corner of your mouth, letting his lips linger for a second before he pulls away again. “i’m gonna let your hands go now, m’kay?” when he drops your wrists, they fall limply on his shoulders as you warily study him, eyes wide with confusion. it’s jarring, the way he just… changed personalities within the span of a couple seconds. “i’m not gonna hurt you, pretty,” he breathes, dropping the gun and letting it fall to the floor with a loud thwak. “this’ll be a lot more fun for me if you don’t resist, yeah?”

oh, fuck it.

“okay,” you murmur, ignoring every siren going off in your head. you don’t really have any other options, and honestly, nobody was going to walk by and get you out of this sticky situation anytime soon. and satoru was pretty attractive… and you could just arrest him afterwards, right?

as if he read your mind, satoru smiles and promises, “you can handcuff me after i’m done with you. just let me have a little fun one last time, baby.”

yeah, it’d be a stupid decision to believe the sweet-talker towering over you. there’s no way he’s just going to let you drag him off to jail, but there’s a reason he’s stayed out of the grasp of the law for so long. it’s hard to live a life as on-the-edge as being a serial killer, but the reason satoru’s survived for this long is because he knows how to use his words. he knows how to make a person go against every warning in their head, and he knows how to get what he wants.

which, for tonight, includes you.

“you have thirty—no, twenty minutes,” you mumble, knowing damn well that this would be the end of your career as a detective. whether or not you dragged satoru in after all this, you could never continue your work knowing you had sex with the biggest serial killer in the city.

satoru laughs and kisses you again, lips trailing down your face and settling on your neck. “haven’t i already made it clear that i’m the one in control here?” he muses as he slips his hands under your coat and tugs it off. it falls to the cold ground and bunches up around your feet, leaving you in a button-up shirt and flowy, dark pants. “c’mon, let’s get these clothes off you.”

within a minute, the rest of your clothes save for a black lacy pair of undergarments join your coat on the floor, and the chilly nighttime air nips at your skin. “i’m cold,” you mumble, feeling yourself involuntarily tense up everywhere but where satoru’s hands cloak your skin. satoru laughs in response and presses his knee to the spot in between your thighs, and something in you snaps at the point of contact.

“you really are an idiot, aren’t ya,” satoru scoffs, hand sliding down to your waist. his fingers latch on the waistband of your panties and he tugs them down, exposing your already-wet pussy to the cold evening air and his eyes. “lettin’ a serial killer fuck you in a dark alley… what kind of detective does that?” satoru spits on two of his fingers and slips them inside you, instantly groaning when he feels you clench around him. “fuck, you gotta be the tightest pussy i’ve felt in a while,” he mutters, white hair falling into his eyes as he looks down shamelessly. “do you not have sex with other guys?”

“don’t have time,” you swallow what would’ve been an embarrassingly loud moan as his fingers go deeper and deeper. how long are this man’s fucking fingers?

“aw, look at you, you’re so cute,” satoru cooes, smiling down at your scrunched up face. you look back at him through squinted eyes, hips starting to roll against his fingers. it’s true—you really haven’t had time to have sex given your already-insane schedule. it’s almost like you spent more time tracking the man who’s now knuckle-deep inside you than sleeping, but the slutty part of your head tells you that it paid off.

“‘m gonna cum,” you whine pitifully, squirming around satoru’s fingers as he curls them inwards, making you clench around him even tighter. a shiver runs over your body, starting from in between your thighs and spreading all over you as satoru’s fingers move back and forth inside your soaking wet cunt. “g-gojo—”

“call me satoru, baby, and you’re not cumming until i say you can.” with that, satoru withdraws his fingers from your pussy with a pop! and grins at the way you glare at him sullenly. he mockingly pouts and licks his drenched fingers clean, tongue lapping up your essence. “heh, don’t worry, i’ll make you cum more than you knew you could once you’re stuffed with my cock.”

although you’ve determined satoru’s “promises” to be dubious at best, he fufills this one after he’s spread your legs wide open and positioned his cock at your entrance. “this might hurt, baby, but remember, no screaming.” after you nod in acknowledgement, satoru slips his tip in and watches, amused, as you try to close your legs on reflex. “uh uh, keep ‘em nice and wide f’me,” satoru tuts disapprovingly.

and true to his word, it hurts—a dull ache spreads throughout your legs as his dick goes farther and farther inside you, reaching places you hadn’t felt in a long time. satoru’s hands settle somewhere on your waist as he pushes himself deeper, ignoring your gasps and pleas for him to slow down a little. your shaky hands move to his hair and you unwittingly pull on it, somehow eliciting a soft groan from satoru’s lips, and somewhere in the back of your mind you think that of course a serial killer has a hair pulling kink—it just makes sense.

“s-satoru, it won’t fit,” you whisper, feeling satoru hit an especially tight spot in your cunt. even with how wet you are, it just feels like you can’t possibly take any more of him—he might as well be ten feet inside you, given the pain in your hips. but, as expected, satoru only smiles tauntingly down at you and murmurs words of encouragement as he somehow pushes past the barrier and gets all the way in amid your pained whimpers.

“yeah, that’s it, knew you could do it,” satoru says sweetly, voice coated with poisonous honey. now that he’s all the way in, the ache from your waist down starts to fade into pleasure, especially as satoru starts moving himself in and out to get you used to the feeling of his dick. “just like that, pretty girl. jus’ like that.”

soon enough, he sets an unexpectedly harsh pace that makes your back arch off the cold, brick wall behind you, and even as satoru tries to keep up his “cool serial killer” act, you can hear his quivering breaths as he gets close to cumming. “shit, i forgot how fuckin’ good it felt to fuck a cunt this tight—” he mutters through gritted teeth. “‘m gonna cum inside, ‘kay?”

you nod breathlessly, chasing your own pleasure and not actually listening to the words satoru murmurs in your ear. at this point, it didn’t matter—all your pathetic little head could think about was satoru’s dick, and somehow, you forget that he’s a killer when he cums inside you. it’s hot and thick and it almost knocks you over—when was the last time you felt this good, if ever?

the coil in your stomach snaps and you cum with him, nodding along to satoru’s praises on how well you’re taking him. you squirt all over his painfully hard dick and suck in a sharp breath as you do so, body trembling from the force of both of your orgasms.

“see, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” satoru murmurs when you both come down from your highs, stroking your hair almost tenderly. you bob your head in response, face warm and eyes unable to properly focus. he stuffs his fingers back inside your puffy cunt and scoops the cum dripping down your thighs back inside, mumbling something about not letting a single drop go to waste. “who knew the pretty detective i’d had my eye on would be this good to me?” he cooes, grinning snarkily.

satoru’s earlier promise floats through your head and you force yourself to look him in the eye. “y-you said you’d let me arrest you after,” you breathe, back still pressed to the wall as satoru surveys you amusedly.

“oh, sweetheart, you’re in no condition to be giving orders,” satoru says condescendingly, pulling up his pants and grinning at you. his cheeks are still flushed red, but whether that’s from the cold nighttime air or from the heated sex, you don’t quite know. “we should do this again sometime,” he continues conversationally as he picks up your coat for you. despite the fact that you’re still naked and trembling, satoru drapes your coat around your shoulders and helps you button it up.

“but you said—” you protest, but satoru cuts you off with a raised eyebrow.

“you didn’t seriously believe me, did you?” satoru tuts, shaking his head. “i’m a serial killer. i’m not gonna turn myself in just ‘cause of a detective’s pretty pussy, baby. you should’ve known better, doll.” satoru wraps an arm around your limp shoulders and tugs you in for a kiss, lips pressing firmly against your own for a couple seconds before he pulls away with a satisfied smile.

he leaves you with a promise to see you soon.

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shotmrmiller · 3 months

Text

pornstar au

f!reader x simon 'ghost' riley

3.7k words (sorry)

tw: teacher-student relationship but it's just a scene for porn. explicit. horrifyingly so.

You burst into the classroom and stride purposefully towards your professor, who is seated in his leather chair, engrossed in his work. Impatiently tapping your foot, you waited for him to finish marking essays. However, after 5 minutes, your patience with this unbearable man ran out.

"Professor."

He hums, a deep sound coming from the back of his throat yet doesn't look up from what he's doing. A real piece of work, he is. How fucking aggravating.

"Professor Riley," your voice takes an irreverent tone.

The hand that had been writing non-stop comes to a sudden pause, and he finally directs his attention to you. Meeting your gaze, his dark eyes are hooded, his lips set in a firm line. His job is to literally deal with students, yet he dares to look annoyed.

"Are you gonna tell me what's wrong 'r am I gonna have to learn how to read minds?" he states.

Taking in a calming breath, you clench the crumpled essay in your hand. "Can you explain to me why you failed me on this? I did exactly as you asked!"

He must know precisely what you're talking about because he simply turns back to the papers on his desk.

"Tha's your problem. You did exactly as I asked, with no thought behind it. Just wrote the bare minimum, if you can even call it writin'. It's copy-paste," Professor Riley sets the pen down and leans back in the chair.

"I need ya to use tha' head o' yours when in this class. Otherwise, you'll fail the rest o' your classes too."

Fucking hell.

Professor Riley shifts in his seat, seemingly done with the conversation, and finishes, "If tha's all."

Shit. Your pause is too long, and the director calls it. Fuck.

"I'm really sorry, Ghost, I didn't mean-" Your words of apology dissolve into thin air as his strong hand finds its place on your hip— giving it a gentle, but firm squeeze.

"S'all righ', love. Mistakes happen. Matter fact," his eyes drift from you to behind you to beckon someone with two fingers. "C'mere, you."

It's the set assistant, and he's brought the script with him. Ghost swiftly stops him from handing it to you, instead pushing it onto the assistant's chest. "Won't be needin' tha', thanks. Tell the director tha' we'll be ad-libin'. Now sod off."

The assistant follows his command in haste, scurrying off to follow Ghost's instructions.

"Hey," he murmurs. Your eyes meet his, feeling the intensity of it quickens your heartbeat. "Say whatever you like, just remember to follow the storyline, alright?"

Follow the storyline. In porn. The irony isn't lost on you, but you bite the side of your gummy cheek to keep from laughing. "Yes, sir."

He drops his hand from where he held you slowly, seemingly almost reluctant to let go. "Ready?" Ghost's thin lips curl into a smirk when you nod at his question. "Good girl."

Your fingers tightly grip the flimsy material of your uniform skirt at his praise, and warmth pools in your lower belly.

His good girl.

A high-pitched voice cuts through your thoughts, signaling the restart of the shooting. You exhale a long breath, unclenching your hands in the process.

Action.

"If tha' all." Ghost reaches for his pen when you frantically grab onto his Oxford sleeve.

"Wait, Professor, please! I can't," you stammer, "I cannot fail this class! My parents would kill me if I studied abroad only to flunk. The tuition—"

His tone is authoritative as he abruptly cuts off your lengthy excuse. "Enough. Nothing can change the mark I've given you."

Your ears pricked up at his wording, and the corners of your lips pulled up into a roguish smile. "No?" Ghost stills before turning to face you, countenance blank. "Nothing at all, Professor?" With a coy tilt of your head, your wide, doe-like eyes meet his as your fingertips trace an alluring path from his forearm down to his knuckles.

"I really can't convince you in any way to change that grade for me?" You lean on the edge of his wooden desk— skirt so short it doesn't even graze the surface of it— and lightly curl your hand around his pointer finger. "It can be our little secret, Professor Riley," you purr.

Ghost lifts a single brow, and settles back into his seat, arms crossed over his barrel chest as his eyes travel from your feet to your exposed cleavage, fixating on the soft skin peeking out from your uniform top.

"Please?" his hushed voice reverberates inside your skull. "I promise to be a good girl."

That catches his attention, eyes flashing to yours, the fire behind them hot— you hope it burns you.

"'Sat, right? Tha' changes things now, doesn't it?" Ghost rolls his chair back, away from his desk, and spreads his thick legs apart in invitation, arms resting on the rests— the dictionary definition of casual. "Convince me then, pet."

"Yes, sir." Sauntering to stand in between his legs, you swallow thickly— the bulge in his groin was quite frankly, intimidating. You've had large, but this was in a league of its own.

"You gonna do it from up there? I know I'm bigger than average but not tha' big." A huff escapes from your lips. A whole comedian.

Knees pressed into the cold, tile floor, you expertly undo the button of his trousers and with his help, pulled them down along with his pants— just enough for his cock to spring free.

Bloody fucking hell.

His cock is monstrous. It rested against his belly, heavy and thick. The pink tip slightly peeking from under his foreskin. There was a groomed thatch of coarse hair at the base, and his balls were also heavy— one hanging lower than the other.

Ghost leans forward and cradles the underside of your jaw with one large hand, fingers gently caressing the delicate skin of your cheek, while the other pumps his rigid cock in anticipation. "Not scared, are ya?" His grin was wicked. "I promise it don't bite."

Grabbing his wrist, you maneuver his hand so that his thumb now rests on your soft lips. "Might not, but I do, Professor." And catch the tip of his finger between your blunt teeth, the subtle sting of it making him hiss.

"Perfect, pretty girl," he says, almost inaudible. His words of praise are for you alone— not for the scene, nor the camera. You peer up at him through your lashes, mewling softly at the expression on his face.

His brow was set, hooded eyes sultry, a rosy hue across his cheeks and nose, and lips parted as he panted quietly.

Delicious.

Ghost then pushes his thumb further into your slick mouth and hooks it behind your bottom teeth, delicately pulling you closer to him as he tips his head down— taking his thumb out with a pop. His warm breath fans across your face as he moves closer until his lips connect with yours. He slid his tongue into your mouth, tasting of frosty mint and his own unique taste.

Your hands come up, fingers digging into the meat of his thighs when he grasps your wrist and moves it to the focal point of his desire— his breath hitching when you give his cock a firm squeeze. Ghost bites your bottom lip before breaking away, a guttural noise escaping him when you begin to stroke him. "Tighten your hand around—" he breaks off, moaning against your kiss-swollen lips when you comply.

He threads his fingers through your hair that sits at the base of your skull, curling them into a fist and tugging back— craning your neck, hair pulled taut.

"So obedient. Jus' f'me, love?" you hum cheekily, a mischievous grin spreading across your face.

"Would you hold it against me if I said no?" he chuckles under his breath, the grip on your hair tightening marginally.

"I'd say tha' you're lyin'." He sucks in a breath when you press down lightly onto his slit with your thumb. "Cheeky."

He loosens the hold he has on you, feeling your scalp prickle with tender relief, and relaxes back into the chair. "All yours, sweetheart."

That light wasn't getting any greener, so with a grunt, you shifted your weight, ignoring your aching knees, and wrapped your lips around his cock.

Barely.

The salty bite of his arousal and musk spread on your tongue as you took him in deep, stilling once he hit the back of your throat.

"Fuck, look at me."

Slightly tipping your head back, you do as he says, your throat closing around him as he slips in even further.

"Fuckfuckfuck," a hiss, "such a hot little mouth, just swallowin' me righ' up." Your lungs burn with the lack of oxygen, forcing you to pull back to gasp for air. Ghost squeezes himself at the base and taps your cheek with his saliva-coated length.

"A dirty slag like you, jus' takin' me like a professional. Tha' what you are? A professional cock sucker, love?" he taunts. Your pussy clenches when he calls you a slag, pressing your thighs together in the hope of some friction; Something to alleviate the throbbing ache in between your legs.

Ghost with eyes as keen as ever, notices. Damn.

"Oh? Little harlot likes to get degraded, does she? Reminded of her place? How I'd love to teach you exactly where you belong, but tha' wouldn't be you convincin' me to change your bad grade, now would it?"

His cock taps on your swollen lips. "Another time, hm? Now open. Make me see reason."

Ghost's wish is your command. With enthusiasm, you take him in your mouth, slowly bobbing your head, place a hand right under your lips, and twist with every push and pull.

It's sloppy, spit covering your hand, dripping down to his balls. Your jaw aches, a burning pressure a little under your ear, but what gives you the strength to continue is the loud moans coming from Ghost. He holds nothing back, his hand engulfing the crown of your head while he gently pushes you down. A performer down to his very bones.

You were about to pause the recording, the pain in your mandible and knees almost becoming too much when he suddenly pulled you off of him.

"Wha—?" Ghost seizes you by the upper arms, forcibly bringing you to your feet, disregarding your pained whimper, and places you on the sturdy desk.

He's curling his fingers into the waistband of your frilly knickers, slipping them down your legs and pocketing them. There's a quiet popping sound when he bends his knees, going eye level with your bare cunt.

In a hushed tone, you say, "This isn't part of the scene." Ghost drags his eyes from your glistening slit to your face, gaze suffocating, smothering the very air in your lungs.

"Just a taste, love." He curls one hand under your thigh, lifting it to perch it on the edge of the desk, the other he throws over his strong shoulder. The only sound in the room is your soft moans as he expertly slides his warm tongue through your slick folds, sending waves of pleasure through your body.

By god does he eat pussy like it's his job. Peering down at him, you can't stop the sounds that spill from your mouth when his tongue visibly splits your pussy lips open, flicking at your clit, lapping up your arousal like it is honey. You take hold of his short hair, tugging at the strands as each swirl of his talented tongue pushes you closer to your peak.

His eyes cut to yours when he presses a thick finger into you, drinking in your desperate expression as you keen, begging for more, blabbering about it being so good, yet not enough, please god more.

Ghost curls his finger, only taking a second to find your sweet spot, and pushes— bursts of light flashing in your peripheral vision. You begin to rock your hips unconsciously, chasing your ecstasy, and Ghost simply flattens his tongue, letting you grind against it.

You teeter on the edge of bliss, a tightening in your stomach, right under where his finger is. Shaky exhales leave you, the leg that's on the desk visibly trembling from the tension that threatens to snap you in half.

He presses a kiss to your sodden pussy, and croons, "Gonna come f'me?" You jerkily nod.

"Yes fuck yes, I'm gonna come for you, just for you, Professor Riley pleaseee—" your blathering turns into a high-pitched squeal as he lightly sucks on your pearl, hips lifting off the desk as a blinding orgasm crashes into you, pleasure bursting through your very core, cunt pulsating with every wave of ecstasy around Ghost's finger.

He wastes no time in rising to his feet and slotting his mouth over yours, the taste of your slick strong, potent on his tongue. Ghost breaks away, his breath smelling of your desire. "Exquisite, like ambrosia. Addicting."

Ghost's hand cups your sensitive quim and whispers, "Think you can take me? Tha' orgasm took a lot outta ya."

Silly question. "I'm a big girl, Ghost. I can take it."

He licks the front of his teeth and glances down to where his hand rests. "Course you can, love. Turn around f'me."

Your movements are sluggish as you turn over onto your stomach, rising to the tip of your toes as you present yourself to him.

Ghost grabs the sides of your waist, and flips your skirt up, tucking the edge into the waistband of it. His hands palm your cheeks, thumbs digging into the meat of your ass to spread you open, completely exposed to him.

"Fuck me if tha' isn't the prettiest sight I've ever had the pleasure of seein'." He doesn't acknowledge your scoff as he spreads your hands out, placing them flat on the table— enveloping your hand with his own, intertwining his fingers with yours.

His leans over your semi-prone body, cock gently prodding at your entrance, gliding easily through your folds. "Ready?"

Arching your back, his tip slips inside, just barely. That's your answer.

You can hear the smarmy grin that spreads on his face, and wanted to snark back but you're rendered mute when he pushes in. Your eyes cross at the stretch of his cock, a feeling so sublime you know that no one will ever be able to duplicate. Your fingers tighten around his as you mewl when he bottoms out, hips flush against your arse.

Ghost sucks in a breath through his teeth when you shift your weight, and whatever you did has him sliding in deeper— turning his hiss into a guttural groan. "Fuck, you have no fuckin' idea how good you feel."

Probably not, but you have every idea how good he feels.

"You okay, love? Took me so well like you were made jus' f'me. So warm and soft, tight like a vice around my cock. Pretty pussy split wide open, stuffed full of me." He speaks unfettered filth to you, dripping over your ears like molasses, thick and syrupy. Your head feels heavy on your shoulders— dizzy, drunk on his scent, his cock that's got you tearing at the seams.

Then he begins to move, pulling out until an inch remains inside, and pushing in until he's nudging the plug of your womb, feeling a deep pinch under your navel.

This is what it's like to get fucked by Ghost. The one everyone covets after, hoping he drags down the very heavens with his bare hands and lays it at their feet. And here he is, fucking you. A newbie, a fresh face no one knows yet, a name that'll probably never grace the front page.

You doubt his motives are altruistic, but goddamn does it not matter; Not with the way he's carving a space inside of you that only he will ever fit in, or the way he's curling his free hand around your neck, thumb pressed right over your racing pulse.

He lowers himself until his strong chest is to your back, his teeth nipping the tip of your ear. "The moment I saw you gettin' fucked by Johnny, I knew I had t'have ya." Your walls clamp down on him involuntarily, wrenching a pained noise from him. "Fuckin' hell, I knew this pussy would be magical."

Ghost's lips skim over the shell of your ear before pressing a chaste kiss on it. "Lemme hear how good I make ya feel, pet. Don't hold back on me now." He grinds into your arse, going in so deep that it feels like he's trying to push past the entrance of your womb. "S'alrigh'. I'll jus' have t'pull 'em outta ya."

He releases you, placing both hands flat on the desk, on either side of your shoulders. "Take em for myself, make 'em mine." Straightening all the way, he digs his fingers into the soft flesh of your waist.

"What a view. Perfection." He rolls his hips, rhythm languid, loud squelching noises coming from where he fills you. "Drippin' cream all over my cock, pet. Can't tell me this isn't 'cause of me."

How the fuck can he still talk? How is he coherent? Why isn't his brain turned into mush like yours is?

"Fuckin' ya speechless, am I? Oh, sweetheart, but I'm barely gettin' started." Ghost slowly pulls out, and curls his hand around your shoulder, nudging you to turn over. "On your back, now."

You lazily flip over, hair sticking to your sweat-slick skin, and he hooks his arms underneath your legs and drags you to the edge until your arse hangs from it. "I wanna see that pretty face when you come." He wastes no time in sheathing himself back inside your swollen channel, walls fluttering at the invasion.

Ghost hooks one leg over his shoulder to lean forward, pinning you to the desk with his upper body, and maneuvers your other to wrap around his wide waist. "That cock drunk look on your face makes my balls tighten, what a fuckin' expression you've got, christ," he growls. "Knowin' I put it there makes it all the better."

He gives you a chaste kiss on the lips and gives you a smile that is all teeth. "Now let's make you sing."

Grunting, he straightens. plants his feet firmly, stance wide, and begins to fuck you. The videos of the famed Ghost you saw are nothing, nothing, in comparison to real life. His full weight is behind every spine-jarring thrust, it makes your teeth clack, it rattles your brain inside your skull. He does it so perfectly because at no point do you feel any discomfort, not even a twinge. It's all a pleasure that blazes, an all-encompassing heat that threatens to swallow you whole, burn you from the inside out.

His cock punches the breath out of your lungs, wails clawing out of your throat, and it's so good, so fucking good— god, maybe he is god, you don't know, everything is so blurry, hazy—

All senses focus on the sudden touch between your legs, an expert thumb drawing tight circles on your slippery clit and there's no way you're going to survive this—

"There she is, the girl I saw in the video. Tha's an expression I see in myfuckin' sleep. Give me what's mine, pet. Let me feel you, cream all over my cock."

He's relentless in his pursuit of your climax, a wave of pleasure so intense, it just might drag you out to sea, drowning you.

Ghost, the fucking god of sex, stops his ministrations to spit on your pussy. Spit. From his full height, a glob of warm saliva drops to your mons, and he smears it with his fingers over your pussy lips before rubbing your clit. His thrusts slow in pace, turning into a firm snap of his hips, making sure you feel every ridge of his cock, and in less than a minute, your spine arches off the desk.

Your mouth opens into a silent scream, lids snapping shut as you break underneath him, warmth gushing from where he's continuously sinking into you, a steady, slow rhythm that never ends.

"Came all over me, didn't ya? Bet you didn't know you could even do tha'."

You didn't.

"Jus' for tha', I'm gonna give you somethin' in return, yeah? A little reward for bein' so good," he praises.

Your tongue is heavy in your mouth, swollen and thick, and unconsciousness creeps at the very edges of your mind.

All you can do is lie there and take it, his sloppy thrusts, his harsh panting until he moans, "'m close, so fuckin' close," and with whatever remnants of strength you have left, you use to squeeze him tightly— unwilling to let go because his come is yours now, you've earned it.

"Come in me, Ghost," you whimper.

That does it. He slams his hands on either side of your head and borderline roars out his release, cock twitching inside of your used cunt, filling you with his spend.

Cut.

Ghost's breathing is labored, a harsh pant that fans over your overheated skin, damp with sweat.

His brows are furrowed, his eyes squeezed shut, gulping in air and shivering in the aftershock of his climax.

To be fucked by Ghost is to see the Garden of Eden behind your eyelids.

Now you understand. You understand why he has no equal. He is unparalleled.

Jesus Christ, you're fucked. So, so fucked.

He slowly opens his eyes and peers down at you with a wolfish grin.

"Perfection."

A week later, your video with Ghost is the most viewed on the entire website. Not one other video even scratches the bottom of where your video sits.

Ghost truly is the king.

Curiously enough, your friend is the one who lets you know that Mr. life-altering cock himself never kisses during work. Not once in any video of his has he ever kissed, apart from a short pressing of lips to skin.

Your heart traitorously flutters at the thought of it meaning something more. Catching feelings when you get fucked for a living is not the move. But there's no stopping it from misbehaving, especially when you receive another script, to make another video with Ghost.

Another. one.

Fuck. Fuck!!

You cannot wait.

@mishaglass

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