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#i feel like i could have expanded the idea differently
bestworstcase · 2 days
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So, regarding your Tai post,
https://www.tumblr.com/bestworstcase/748954216598470656/the-perennial-tai-discourse-is-really-interesting?source=share
I had some thoughts: I technically cover it in a separate post
https://www.tumblr.com/tumblingxelian/749060919422861312/really-solid-addition-here-much-like-with-qrows
But I'm unsure if the links will work so here is a slightly edited & expanded version:
Now, the idea that Ruby & Yang had very different childhoods is not an idea I strictly disagree with. But, I also think it is a bit inaccurate to treat it as outlined in your post.
What I mean is that while Yang is definitely more overt in the fact she feels Tai and the other adults failed them and defaults to centering family moments on Ruby. (For instance she frames the Zwei package as something to cheer Ruby up, its not for her & Ruby's the one really excited, Yang's just kind of there about it)
Despite that, Ruby herself doesn't have a simple relationship with Tai, or in fact she just might but that's not a good thing.
See, Ruby does not think about Tai very often, he's largely an afterthought in her letters for one. But more to the point he is not someone Ruby goes to for advice or guidance or even comfort.
Post Beacon, she mostly gets an update from him and is not bothered to see him go. She is OK being a bit more vulnerable around Qrow.
But the person she actually seeks out and seems utterly shocked at not receiving comfort from is Yang. It was also Yang who she questions for what to do next and Yang whom she confided her plans in before leaving.
Again she is shocked when Yang cannot supply these things to her.
Tai is her dad, but its a superficial relationship, he's nice, he can be fun, she does love him. She does not however, seem to perceive him as a reliable or responsible adult from whom she seeks protection or guidance.
The person she always defaulted to for that was Yang until she could no longer fill the role post V3 which likely fed into her issues with showing vulnerability in V9.
I tend to think she might have been more open to it in V5 given the breakdown tears & hug, but then Yang demonstrated she was still very much not all right & Ruby had no clue what to do. So she just sort of locked into her head that Yang needed 'her' protection now, not the other way around.
I would also just straight up note that even Ruby said it was Yang who raised her. Like, that wasn't even subtle, she knows who the parent was in that house and it wasn't Tai or Qrow. I don't think she'd say that if their childhoods were 'so' different that Tai was a functional parent to her but not Yang.
She definitely has a less... frosty relationship with the two grown men who she grew up around, Largely because they project the saintly Summer onto her and the Wretched Raven onto Yang.
Again, let's not forget Qrow's entirely willing to accept Yang brutalized a kid for shits and giggles or is "crazy". Or that Tai outright sees a lot of Raven in Yang, despite most of the traits he described not meshing with Yang's demonstrated or self described persona.
But even with that more positive relationship being projected onto and still raised by a sister two years your senior isn't exactly ideal. Both sisters had a shitty childhood, both were deeply neglected and failed and suffered because of that fact.
all true! but the nature of parentification is that the children experience the neglect in very different ways; the elder child is forced into an adult role, parenting the younger child, who is harmed in more invisible ways because they do have a caretaker—their sibling. anecdotally nearly every account of a childhood i’ve read by an adult who was raised as a child by older siblings has either alluded to or outright described 1. a much better childhood than their caretaking sibling(s) got, 2. because their sibling(s) shielded them from the worst neglect or abuse.
with that in mind and taking into consideration things like the different reactions to the package from tai (this will cheer ruby up vs ooh, something from home!) and yang staying behind at beacon when tai takes ruby to visit the memorial stone, and now these clear differences in how the girls feel about the boba shop (yang: unsure, downplaying the surprise, maybe it’s dumb / ruby: boba!!!) which probably reflect their emotional experience of the outings with dad (yang: fun, happy that ruby is so excited, not that special otherwise / ruby: magical)…
well, let’s put it this way:
yang did not have a real caretaker starting from age five, when she became the de facto main parent to her three-year-old sister with at best sporadic breaks when qrow wasn’t too blackout drunk / tai was having a good day.
ruby had a primary caretaker who struggled but was always there (yang) and a dad who had to work a lot but made time to do special things like the boba trips so that he could spend quality time with his family (tai). plus an uncle she sometimes needed to help her sister deal with.
yang being parentified has the effect of insulating ruby from the severity of tai’s neglect; in a functional single-income household where one parent stays home and the other works to support the family and both parents are adults who chose this dynamic and enjoy their respective roles, the working parent is not bad or neglectful simply because they aren’t around during the day to take care of the kids, and they can foster close, loving relationships with their children by making the most of the time they have at home. the childhood ruby had was a dysfunctional imitation of that dynamic.
and then factoring in the summer-vs-raven projection, when tai was around he focused on bonding time with ruby moreso than yang.
the net result is that the harm to ruby is much more invisible (yang by virtue of being a child herself could not provide ruby with healthy parent-child boundaries or the emotional stability children need from their parents to feel secure and develop good emotional regulation; tai’s favoritism of ruby being intertwined with idealizing of summer fucked ruby’s sense of self really badly; in the first few volumes ruby feels hurt and bewildered every time yang acts like her sister instead of her parent).
ruby sees clearly and states in volume nine that yang raised her; i don’t think she would have been able to articulate that so plainly in volume one, and this is something she’s come to realize after leaving home / living independently. in v1 it’s “yang used to read to me when we were little” and i’d bet that’s how ruby would phrase everything yang did—as discrete habits, not the combined pattern of “yang raised me.”
whereas yang like. the first thing she does at beacon is try to step away from ruby: encouraging her to meet new people then ditching her to catch up with friends, not wanting to partner up with her for initiation… much as yang loves her sister and enthusiastically supports her, it’s also pretty obvious that yang saw beacon as an opportunity to focus on herself for once. which says to me that she’d already grasped that their home life was messed up and that she needed to break those patterns once she left.
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justheblueberry · 2 months
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forget me not
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obeymeow · 11 months
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nightbringer lesson 14 FUCKED ME UP in several ways but primarily I've spent the last 48 hours making myself sad over the solomon backstory we got. specifically I have, for no reason, latched onto that one chapter in the Kids event where baby solomon cried because he felt so guilty over being responsible for that spell. and that just feels a touch more depressing in context
#nightbringer spoilers#obey me on side#went back and unlocked the event again because i could not get this out of my brain i know it's probably not that deep#but it is that deep TO ME. okay#baby solomon has been on my brain since thirteen told that story so that's probably why it's sticking in my brain so hard but whatever#in case anyone was wondering the other things to make me sad are:#he has such a deeply excessive amount of lights in his room in purgatory hall there are SEVERAL chandeliers and lamps#there's a good handful in his room in cocytus hall too (his horror dg showed it) if a more normal amount#but that with the 'dim and gloomy' detail. ☹️#i've also always thought that solomon's loneliness wasn't all about the immortal angst but like.#having it confirmed that he's had reason to be lonely since he was a child- before he was old enough to know he was using magic-#totally crushed me girl why can't I be wrong#had emotions about lesson 14 in general but solomon backstory steals the show every time for me so i haven't gotten around to the rest#i'm enjoying the nightbringer story so much (not talking about the game design. that's a different thing entirely) but man#the pacing is WILD it feels like every lesson could be a whole lesson block at the least. it's giving me a lot of room to speculate#which I always love! but i do wish they would slow down a little and expand on some of these concepts they're bringing up#because the basic idea of the game alone is REALLY INTRIGUING and it'd be a shame if they raced back to the present imo#what was i even talking about. sorry my brain fast forwards as soon as i get into the tags there is not one sequitur to be seen#so curious about solomon's friend now too. like my guess is it's going to be lilith (and hopefully not in a popular fan theory kind of way)#because it's more than a little suspicious that they expanded on lilith's views on humans the way they did#in a way that SO PERFECTLY lines up with the expansion on solomon's views on humans#WHICH I HAVEN'T TALKED ABOUT YET BY THE WAY BUT LIKE. HE IS SO RIGHT AND REAL FOR THAT#it's beyond stressful to me that I think solomon is completely justified in his views and being completely reasonable about it#but that it would also mean war between the worlds presumably while the brothers are still recovering from THEIRS#you cannot give me that choice man. not even sure that the human world would be ABLE to win that fight if we're being real#solomon's 72 pacts are a lot yes but he's still only one guy who is NOT on good terms with the sorcerer's society#and mc is powerful but so so inexperienced. and that's IF they choose to side with the human world which#really i don't think the canon mc is likely to do. but anyway i guess solomon's friend could also be adam maybe?#that could be wishful thinking because i like adam though. even if his hair SUUUCKS#deeply offended by everyone thinking solomon got the fucked up hair when all signs point to adam be NICE TO HIM he's ugly already
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floralovebot · 8 months
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Sometimes I don't understand this Winx fan's mania of wanting to redesign everything Winx, the characters... even the planets. I understand that each one can have their own headcanon, but there are already incredible designs in the animated series!!! You just have to expand them!!! Don't redesign them to suit your personal taste!!
Sometimes I wonder if these people really like Winx Club, or they just like it because of what it made them feel in their childhood, and nowadays they don't like it very much but the nostalgia is so strong, that that's why they make these redesigns, they change everything about the characters, so that it is more to personal taste.
I understand that art is an expression... but sometimes so many things change, I don't know what to think.
I've even seen them for rewrites... do they know that I'm going to imagine the story with Winx's designs and not theirs?
Sorry for the rant.
I mean,, I don't think it's fair to say that all redesigners hate winx and just have strong nostalgia. As much as I bitch about the fandom's racism, I'll always be incredibly supportive of the amount of creativity and freedom of expression that fans have here. I've seen some fandoms where every little headcanon and redesign gets scrutinized for literally no reason. Not to bring up hp in the year 2023 but I once saw someone bitch at an artist for drawing hermione with dark brown hair. Like. The winx fandom is honestly one of the only fandoms I've been in where people are encouraged to share how they would change things. (not the only fandom of course, but it's definitely not a thing that every fandom does).
That being said,, I do see your point with some redesigns feeling like it's just hating on the og winx. I think most, if not all, of the people who are really active in the fandom, have a winx sideblog, or just post a lot of winx are very much doing their redesigns out of love. But every now and then, you'll see a redesign where the poster just,, shits on winx for no reason. Like,, I've especially seen a lot of outright misogyny and internalized misogyny about the winx wearing skirts and dresses and being princesses. Like sorry you can't imagine strong female characters with personalities who also wear skirts sometimes. deal.
And again, I have no problem with people just redesigning things for fun and wanting to see how things could be expanded or even improved on, but I've definitely started to notice more of an,, ego complex where some people act like their redesign is the absolute pinnacle of society and the og winx (and occasionally other redesigns) suck shit. Like no dude you're in the same camp smoking the same weed as the rest of us calm the fuck down.
I mean,, I'll always be more in favor of redesigns and headcanons. I think it's a really special part of the fandom! But I also understand why it can be jarring and even upsetting to see people take these characters and places and just,, get rid of every canon aspect to make it what they Want instead of just expanding on what's already there. At that point, it definitely feels like someone just wanted to play in the winx universe but didn't care for any of the actual aesthetics or lore. It also feels like a slap in the face when people completely change a character's entire personality and call it a headcanon like no babe that's not stella winx club, that's generic blonde girl #3. Literally just make your own oc at that point.
I mean again, I'm never going to just shit on someone's headcanon or redesign just because I Personally don't vibe with it. But I am going to call out racism. Always. And someone spending hours creating something doesn't absolve them of being racist.
#i feel like i should clarify#my post about melody was specifically about people being racist not people just changing things around a little#i mean i Get what youre saying#but i also feel like redesigns and rewrites really bring the fandom together! like its very much Our Brand as a fandom#even if we dont all have the same idea#we've all had thoughts on what couldve been done differently and how things could be expanded on#its something really special and unique to this fandom and i dont think its cool to shit on it just because Some people dont like wi.nx#again there are definitely redesigns out there that were done solely to make fun of the og which imo is shitty#but Most redesigns are done out of genuine love for the series#like most people arent spending tons of hours on a show they dont actually like#thats why most of Those designs are one off magic wi.nx redesigns where they bitch about the girls wearing skirts#but the entire rewrites and redesigns where people dedicate hours of their time? that's love baby#unfortunately some people are also racist with some of their decisions (intentionally or not)#like no sorry i dont care about cyberpunk melody or tall mega buff aisha or racebent flora or emotionally shut off helia#like i could go on and on about the really common racially motivated headcanons i see in rewrites and redesigns#its... :(#but the normal average redesign that someone is doing because they hate the later seasons? THATS LOVE BABY#answered#like maybe i dont post enough about how much i love and appreciate this fandom#so maybe it comes off like i hate everyone here? but no. i just hate racists#long post
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lieutenant-amuel · 8 months
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Okay, I got back to writing WBTL yesterday and now I think this story could’ve been a lot better if I didn’t write it from Valerio’s POV.
#Personal#Was Born To Lead#I’m not saying I should have erased his character#I just think it would have been better if the readers knew him as a wholesome teacher for a longer time?#He can’t rest until people know his secret so there’s going to be a reveal~#and I think it would have been a lot more impactful if the readers knew about him as much as Gabe does#Yeah in that case I probably would have kept Emilio and his suspicions towards Valerio to make a foreshadowing or something#I just really think that I messed up Valerio with all my ‘he’s actually good but his trauma makes him do terrible things’ attidute#Becuase at least at the beginning of this story I wanted him to be sympathetic akhdnfk#And I wrote like two paragraphs in the new chapter about how much Gabe loves and admires Valerio#And really it would’ve been a lot more emotional if Valerio was indeed a kind and harmless teacher#Otherwise it just seems funny and fake#I even know why I expanded this story from Valerio’s perspective so much he was the character I thought a lot off-screen#and I suppose I just wanted to unleash all those ideas as soon as possible#Becuase really the scene when Emilio finds out Valerio’s secret and the scene afterwards when Valerio hears the voices in his head#was literally the first scene I wrote for that chapter before I divided it into two parts#I wanted to write it so much and I did and published it#Ah and in that case most of the chapter would’ve been like two times shorter lmao#Although in that case Emilio probably wouldn’t have been as developed as now so idk#I just still feel insecure about this story at times especially when I think about the things I could do different but well#I’ll try to overcome it I guess#As I said in the new chapter#As a strategist you have to think several moves ahead#if you mess up it’s bad of course but it means you have a new start to properly think everything through again#This is Ximena about chess lol#But I messed up Valerio and this is the fact
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themyscirah · 6 months
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I know I JUST changed my theme yesterday but this one is even better so like. Bleez hours ig 😈
#I LOVE HER-#anyways this comic actually does her GOOD (for like 1 issue) and so im just !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#blah#im literally consumed with feels for/abt her today omg#literally plotted out a 6 issue mini for her during econ today (featuring simon and guy ofc)#where she defeats (not kills!!! i have a creative solution!) Atrocitus and kills basically all the remaining RLs (not dexstarr though)#and kind of goes solo with it as a different kind of RL#which could ofc expand into a 12 issus limited series bc i leave the strand of some missing red rings going (that she has to track down)#and honestly id have ideas for some issues from an ongoing too (most crossovers)#like for example bc my redesign of her kind of has hawkgirl vibes she should get to team up w kendra (in a 2parter w p1 called two birds...?#and p2 as one stone!) and then OFC some supergirl stuff bc of them being friends during the red daughter arc AND smth with yrra as well#bc that was literally the only good bleez moment before the writer change in nu52 rls#and also they would have SO much to talk abt re: anger and loss of autonomy#and then ofc mandatory crossover with my green lantern book#: )))))))))))))) feeling happy thinking abt the comics i would write if dc hired me#im sooooooooo tenpted to try and draw covers for this now#it would have to be for the later issues though bc the issue 1 cover would be kind of boring tbh#bc shes still in her old suit for continuitys sake and the plot would make it look similar to some shitty rl covers honestly#BUT THATS HOW I WOULD GET THEM. i trick the dudebros so they think its only hot alien lady stuff but then they look inside and bam!#increased agency for female characters!!!!! and redesigns!!!!! and friendship!!!! but also ANGER!!!!!!! and JUSTICE!!!#i just 😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍#thinking abt comics is sooooooooo fun mwah i love it
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Space (I see you)
Danny has a space core, in the beginning he thought he has an ice core, but it turns out that because he had been highly stressed since his death his core had been underdeveloped and only showed certain aspects to keep him healthy.
Years have passed his 14 birthday (death-day)
He was now 17 and had grown into his core which had revealed a lot about him.
For example, being the Ancient of space distorted his entire view of everything. After all space was everywhere and ever growing, expanding more and more.
Danny could feel himself in his physical halfa body,
But at the same time he was watching people on the other side of the planet: laughing, dancing, celebrating, crying, being born, dying,mourning, and going about their day.
That was only on this Earth he could see every Earth that exists.
Earth was such a small part of space.
He could feel & see entire solar systems, galaxies, nebulae.
More & more
Just continuing to expand
Never ending
As he got older he could understand more his connection to everything.
Being able to help life be born on other planets
Moving moons towards planets
Creating star nurseries
Everything at his grasp
~
This would cause him to let his mind wander away from his physical form, which just looked like he was spaced out.
His human form slipping slightly when he does: freckles gaining a glow and moving to form different constellations, his hair moving like if it were weightless, and his eyes
Don't stare too long at his eyes
After all the eyes are the window to the soul
And his hold too much
(Look away)
~
Danny casually watches a meteor shower hundreds of light years away, spaced out: Ooh pretty!
The poor goon who taught he could mug a careless teen and stared at his eyes for too long: *Twitching on the ground foaming at the mouth*
~
Danny who hasn't blinked in a few minutes: "The pretty space station with heroes in it just made a full orbit on top of us again!"
Tim next to him who's just waiting in line for a cup of coffee or 3: *panicked side eyes him* Wh-What?
~
Batman: "We have to find who's taking out all these criminal."
Danny who looks like a Wayne kid therefore getting regularly kidnapped (or at least attempted), focusing on making a good star nursery: " Shhh! I'm concentrating"
Villain & his goons dropping like flies: "Mercy!"
~
Just an Idea
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soupjug · 1 year
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i’m making characters again
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headspace-hotel · 1 year
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I agree with the idea that a lot of humans nowadays have a severe lack of curiosity about the world, but I think there has to be a solution other than shame.
I think about this every day because the fate of our world hangs on curiosity: either we will rediscover the importance and wonders of the soil and bugs and flowers and water and finally with the whole natural world, or this way will be forgotten.
People raised in the great wasteland of the suburbs and roads and buildings have never seen most of the plants and creatures that are supposed to fill every field and meadow. So many humans have never seen with their own eyes more than a scant few of the most common of hundreds of wildflowers that are supposed to surround them. Some live in biomes designated forest and have never witnessed truly mature trees. They do not know what the birds sound like. When they see an ordinary deer, they are awed and amazed by it or even afraid of it. They have never eaten any of the delicious wild fruits that grow in their homeland; all birds except starlings and robins and sparrows are so strange and beautiful that they stare in wonder. They confront insects like people on an alien planet encountering an unknown life form: What is this? Will it hurt me?
I cannot even describe the grief I feel on behalf of humans that grow up and live in the wasteland of pavement and lawn. That we are expected to live in these brutal environments, that we are expected to be content without the right or ability to live alongside living creatures, to walk among wildflowers, to hear birdsong, to feel the plush softness of moss, to see even common bees and butterflies—the fact that we live, work, and raise our children in poisonous wastes where nearly everything has been wiped out, and the simplest and most abundant of natural pleasures are rare privileges—it's cruel. It's a crime against the human spirit. It makes me so angry and sad.
When I started researching plants, I had no idea that I would end up expanding my mind so much that I would be virtually a different person within the year. Before I learned, I could not have imagined the diversity and beauty that exists in the world. My mind did not have the tools to come up with it.
I lived for over twenty years believing that there was only one species of firefly. I lived for over twenty years not knowing that the Southeastern US has native bamboo. I had never tasted the indescribable flavor of a pawpaw or seen the iridescent vibrance of a red-spotted purple butterfly. I had only seen a Pileated Woodpecker out the window of a car. I had never touched true topsoil, the soft, living blanket of rich, sweet-smelling earth full of mycelium, as springy and plush as a mattress. Just one year ago, I knew nothing!
Humans, as creatures, are insatiably curious and hunger for beauty. It is so cruel to deprive a human of relationship with their natural environment.
It is no wonder that we are all addicted to the internet—we have a crucial need that is unfulfilled. Compared with a forest, the world of lawns and buildings is so ridiculously flat and unstimulating. You would expect humans in such a place to feel constantly bored, restless, frustrated, and incurably sad.
I feel that lack of curiosity can be a chosen thing, but it is also a defense mechanism against a world that will feel like sandpaper on the senses of the curious.
But we need curiosity to fix this—we need the ability to notice the living things that have crept in at the edges of the wasteland and be infected and tormented by their beauty. We need to recognize the forest reaching into our cage in the form of tiny saplings. We need to discard the word "weed," not because it is derogatory because it is fundamentally incurious—it designates a plant as needing no identity outside of its unwantedness. We must learn their names. We must wonder what their names are.
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cherry-leclerc · 2 months
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pride ☆ mv1
genre: smut, established relationship, stubborn!max, jealous!max, humor, fluff
word count: 3k
After his DNF, Max finds himself losing his temper when you keep insisting that it was his fault. Due to both ends, you find yourself in a constant battle on who can admit defeat first.
nsfw warning under the cut!
18+... gym sex - that's all teheee
req!...super fun to write, thank u, anon for the idea !!
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He never liked to be pointed out as the one who did something wrong on track. Then again, he rarely ever made those types of mistakes. Max got along with everyone on the grid, but he was there to win. And he certainly did not need his girlfriend reminding him that he’s human, just like the rest of the drivers.
“Just admit it already, you fucked up this time. You cut him off.”
A DNF was as bad as it could get, his mood quickly deteriorated as he bangs his helmet against the wall. If you weren’t used to his dark behavior, then you would have definitely worried. Instead, you tap your foot impatiently with a deep sigh, eyes rolling with strong annoyance. You didn’t like to see him like this, but it drove you crazy that he could never own up to his wrongdoings. 
The Dutch harshly rips off his balaclava, dirty blond hair sticking against his angry face, normally baby blue eyes switching to a devilish color. “You’re such a…” A deep growl. “He cut me off, and that’s what got us both out of the race. What a fucking dick.”
Your brow raises up, pointing at him with accusement. “My thoughts exactly.” Turning on your heel, you spin around and walk out of his driver's room, leaving him to sulk like a manchild. Stupid, Lando.
As soon as the race ends, you sheepishly make your way to the young Brit. “Is he mad?” he asks. You shrug as if you care about what your boyfriend is feeling at this very moment. Max wasn’t the kind to get mad, he got furious. 
“He’ll get over it. Though I do suggest you run the opposite way if you spot him.” He laughs, eyes crinkling with agreement. After apologizing on behalf of the grumpy Dutchman, you hurry off to find him. Propped up against the door frame, you nervously play with the hem of your dress as you inch your way closer. You can practically see the color red blooming out of him as he smiles bitterly.
“And where were you?” His voice expands softly, it makes your stomach churn, but you put on a brave face nonetheless, refusing to give in to his ego. It doesn’t matter. He chuckles, rolling his tongue against the inside of his cheek, head shaking in disapproval. “Aren’t I the one you should be consoling? I don’t see why you had to go see him.”
Your eyebrows narrow down sharply. “Max, you’re being a fucking baby, you caused the crash! Lando was just unlucky and I went to let him know, is that so wrong?”
The Dutch fumes, jaw clenching. “You can go see him, I don’t give a fuck, but stop saying it was my fault. He closed in on me.” You scoff, arms crossed. “This is pure bullshit.”
“Whatever, I don’t want to talk about it anymore. I’m glad you’re alright,” you sourly say, pushing past him to go and retrieve your things, getting ready to leave back to the hotel. His nose twitches, following after you. Neither of you utter a single word, simply packing and strolling out the door. As soon as the media gets involved and Lando walks by with a shy smile and wave, he instinctively grabs your hand, leading you through the tight crowd with a bright smile, despite his crash. 
Setting aside your differences, you’re grateful for his sweet gesture, even if it laces with a bit of possessiveness. The drive is tense, only the sound of the blinker being heard. You try adding some music, but as soon as he turns off the radio, you turn to him, hair slapping your flushed face. “Why did you do that?” Your hand slides back up, turning it on. He repeats his same actions, leaving you to burn lasers to the side of his head. 
“Your music is complete shit.” Surprised by his cold tone, your right eye twitches like a crazy person before turning your attention back towards the road. He feels bad. He’s not mad at you, not even at his friend. But he wasn’t the biggest fan of letting his team down, and much less, owning up to it. 
Pushing the door open, you march in, making your way to the bathroom, ready to shower off the irritation. Max trails after you without a second thought, then you slam the door right on his face. He blinks. He can hear you turning the water on, stripping down. “You’re taking a shower by yourself this time, you dickhead.”
-
The next few races run smoother as he finishes in first place for most of them. All of them, actually. But his wins aren’t worth it in the end. Not with your rigid congratulations, forced kisses as you wait for him along with a puddle of photographers. It shouldn’t strike him as strange; you were still upset. For a second, he considers putting his pride aside and try to fix things, make amends, but when you mumble next to him, he quickly throws that out the window. 
“Baby finally got fed his bottle.”
All his pent up emotions came rushing back as you wear an innocent smile. With a sullen glare, he walks out, leaving you to gloat. Two can play that game. 
Here’s the thing with yours and Max's relationship; it was amazing. A fucking dream. You loved each other like crazy, but when you both get into an argument, it can drag out for the longest time. Your friends had pointed it out countless times, accusing you two for being freakishly stubborn. Oftentimes, he’d be the first to give up and apologize, and sometimes it was you. Only this time, it looked like a long haul. 
It was a weird dynamic. He still kissed you goodbye, reminded you how much he loved you. You still attended his races, glowed with sincere happiness for every podium of his, but apart from that, you two still held on to your end of the rope. And it’s been so long. One month? Maybe two?
“Four fucking months,” Max grunts, large hands fixing his drinking straw that connects to his suit. The Dutch is clearly frustrated, Checo could tell as he warily eyes his teammate. The Mexican driver poured out an amused chuckle. Max curls a dark brow. “What?”
Checo halts. “Nothing, man. You’re just being so…how do I put this nicely?” He clicks his fingers enthusiastically. “You’re acting like a douchebag. Puras pendejadas, lo que estás haciendo.” The blue eyed boy shakes his head.
“I don’t know what you mean by that.” He walks away.
“It means you’re doing stupid shit for absolutely no reason. Take it from me, I’m married! I know what I’m talking about, and as your elder, I suggest apologizing. It’ll fix everything, trust me.” But Max only ignores him, already climbing into his car. As much as he would love to try and make things right with the woman he adores like a complete idiot, there’s always something that ruins it. Whether it’s you witty reminders, or your cruel ignorance.
Though, he feels like he’s going crazy. He can feel his hands itch as they beg to hug you the way they were used to. Or to kiss your plump lips, slightly red from your constant nibbles. You can feel his eyes on you as you cut up a group of vegetables, getting things ready for dinner. Like a tease, you bend down to pick up the bag of carrots that had just fallen. You giggle. “Whoops.”
Abruptly, he stands up. “I’m going to get in a small workout before we eat.” That’s all. Left there with your jaw on the floor, you slam the knife against the cutting board. 
You missed him. You’d be insane not to. You missed cuddling with him after a long day. You missed the way he would cradle your face to kiss you eagerly after every win. Now it’s almost as if you’re a couple of strangers with the way he keeps a careful distance. And if he wasn’t going to fix things, then you would force him to.
He hears you before he actually sees you. Not a single word escapes past your lips as you skip closer. His molars grind together when he notices your tiny skirt, paired with a tank top. Perky tits salute him as he holds back a groan. Smiling sweetly, you start to stretch. “Thought I’d join you. Didn’t want to eat without you.”
His heart squeezes, ghostly nodding. Adjusting himself on the bench, he starts his set of overhead presses. Loopy eyes circle his glistening muscles as he pants tiredly, shaky breaths bouncing off of him. You have to physically stop yourself from drooling an entire ocean. 
The blue eyed boy leads an impressive set, a thin layer of sweat coating him like a blanket. One you would gladly roll around in. Pursing your lips, your limbs feel extremely weak all of a sudden and decide to settle with laying down and bringing your legs up, skirt sliding down, exposing your soft skin. 
“So tight,” you whine when you reach up, muscles tied up in an uncomfortable spot. Intrigued, your boyfriend takes a peek and instantly curses, large hands gripping against the metal bar. He gulps. “Maxie, can you push my legs back for me?”
His breath hitches. “No. I’m sure you can do that yourself.”
Sitting up straight, you squint your beady eyes at him as he distracts himself by adding more weight to his set. You click your tongue, a menacing grin tugging at your pink lips. “Messed up, baby, you are messed up.”
Max curses himself for falling in love with someone as beautiful as you. It seriously messed him up a concerning amount. Suddenly there was no more cold demeanor when it came to you. That simply just belonged to the rest because you were everything to him.
“First, you’re too much of a pussy to admit your mistakes and now you’re too scared to get near me?” You scoff. “It’s all starting to add up.”
Except at this very moment.  
“And what exactly is that? If you don’t mind me asking.” 
Kneeling down onto the black mat, you stretch your arms out against it, and lay your back flat. You hum. “Oh.” You arch your back, ass angling upwards where his eyes quickly trace to. You smirk. “Nothing.”
If he weren’t so impressed by your bratty act, he would have definitely walked out on you. But you just looked so pretty, rosy, and you were glistening. He wonders what else there was on top of that. The Dutch moves on to a bench press. Huffing, he grits his teeth as he extends his arm before puffing and bringing them back down.
The 26 year old, despite your attempts, was as focused as he could possibly be. The adrenaline was lingering in his entire system as he kept his eyes trained upward. Chest locking tightly, muscles contracting. And then he hears it. Your tiny moans, soft whimpers.
The loud sound of him dropping the weight makes you jump up a bit before looking up. He finds you in your first position you had started with when you first stepped foot into the home gym. He can feel his cock press harshly against his white shorts. “Why are you…” He trails off when your mouth drops open, brows scrunching together. Your thighs beg to be kissed. Slippery arms tug your legs closer to you as you giggle. 
“My legs are too tight.” His chest tightens. “Help me get more flexible?” you press innocently as you signal for him to push your legs. “Please, Maxie.”
Sighing, he nods. As soon as he steps close to you, he can feel your pouring lust, fuck me eyes staring back up at his frame. Grabbing the heels of your feet, he pushes back as you groan. “Oh shit.” You laugh, chest vibrating against the mat. “I really needed the extra push.”
He grimaces. A silence lingers between you two before you wiggle your left foot against his palm. He raises a confused brow. I’m going to tuck it to my chest. Just hold the right one. Doing as instructed, you sigh in relief, lashes fluttering. He holds back a much needed grunt. “You’re telling me you couldn’t do this yourself?”
You nip the air. “We’re not all professional athletes, Max. I needed you.”
You can see how hard your implication is hitting him as his gaze darkens. And just as he’s about to reach out for you, you wiggle your brows. Next leg. Snapping out of trance, he eyes the way your skirt rides down your skin. In a swift movement, he lets go and takes a staggered step back. You grin. What’s wrong?
“You’re crazy.”
Standing up, you place both hands on your waist. “Why?”
Max doesn’t even recall when he pins you against the wall, your hair flying from the impactful blow, and yet, you’re smirking. Kissing you harshly, you groan, leaning against your tippy toes as you struggle to breath. He seems to be lost in your lips as he cradles your face, teeth clashing against yours at the filthy action. “You’re so beautiful,” he pants, blues staring back. “So fucking beautiful.”
Whimpering, you reach back out for him, plump lips attacking his thick neck as he sighs. The purple bruises were definitely something he would hound you on tomorrow, but for now that was the least of his worries. Admiring the colorful spot, you lick it slowly. He shudders. 
“I can suck something else, you know?”
You almost don’t recognize his growl, for you haven’t heard it in so long, that it catches you by surprise as he spins you around, bending you over the nearest counter, where his wall of protein stands. He hitches your skirt up as you gasp when his fingers slide inside of you. The way he stretches you out makes you see stars as you struggle to keep upward. 
“Wore this just for me, right? You knew it would drive me crazy?” His long fingers curl at the perfect angle as you nod. Yes, yes. I wore it just for you. I knew you’d like it. You squeal when he lifts you up, tits pressing against the cold marble, legs dangling like a doll. His doll. He watches the way you swallow his digits. “I fucking love it, baby…”
Then, he’s down on his knees as he wraps his lips around your clit. Moaning loudly, you press your cheek against the cool tiles, saliva dripping out of your mouth at the sensation. In your fucked up state, you still reach out for him as he grabs your hand. “You taste so sweet,” he hums. You’re close to crying when he pulls away, but calm down when he thrusts into you. 
The Dutch throws his head back as soon as your velvety walls wrap around his cock, the way you swallow him whole. Makes him hate himself for holding onto his pride for so long. For keeping you away. His heart races when you prop yourself on your elbows as stare back at him with tired, lustful eyes. He grins, slapping your ass as you yelp. You ass tilts up as he watches you struggle to keep up. 
Warm hands come up to keep you close to him as you bite down on your lip. “You’re a fucking brat, but God, I hate it because you were right. I pushed him off. I did, I did, I did…” His dirty hair sticks against his face as you bounce forward with every pound. “But he was making you laugh - smile - and I just couldn’t handle that.”
Your heart stops. This was news to you because there was no way the Max you knew so well would break his winning streak all due to a friendly encounter. He pecks your bare shoulder. “I don’t think you understand how much I love you.”
“Then show me.”
WIth that, he holds onto your hips with more grip as his tip brushes repeatedly against your g-spot. You’re a mess, but he’s loving every second of it. As soon as he wraps a large hand around your breast, you’re gone, spluttering white all around him as he follows. With a croaky groan, he slips out as you fall back to your original spot. He chuckles. He fixes your skirt before helping you sit up to face him. Your eyes crinkle. 
“You love me,” you say in a sing-song voice as you poke his dimple. I thought I made that clear. You scrunch your nose, pecking his face all over with sloppy kisses. He playfully winces, but accepts nonetheless. “You love me, love me. Why would you ever worry about me and Lando? You know he’s just a friend.”
His smile drops as it's replaced with a scowl. “I wasn’t worried, per se. I don’t like someone else making you laugh. That’s my job.”
Your brows arch. “What are you suggesting? That I just keep mute for the rest of my days, unless I’m with you?”
Max shrugs. “Sounds like a solid plan.”
You smack his chest as he throws his head back with laughter. “No. Not a solid anything. Max, I love you.”
“I know,” he whispers. 
“Okay,” you confirm, fixing your posture, lips pursing. “But please never do that again, that’s just plain out dangerous and crazy. A big no-no, Emilian.” He glares and your lips wobble childishly. “You love wins, and I love celebrating them with you. It just works.”
“You know what doesn’t work?” he retorts as he hugs you. You hum, comfortable against his warmness. “Not talking to me for four months, what were you thinking?” You push him away abruptly. We spoke! “But we didn’t fuck, and that’s the same thing.”
Crossing your arms, you roll your eyes as he stares back in awe. “If you keep this up then I’m going to crank it up to eight,” you threaten. 
The Dutch nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck before you cave in. “Let’s not do that. You’d be breaking my heart.”
taglist: @myownwritings @d3kstar @crucifiedbitch
*note: i've only tagged those who asked to be included in general. i've kept that apart from the method acting series taglist!! lmk in which you would like to be, just in case!
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ros3ybabe · 1 month
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🎀 Hobbies 🎀
I feel as tho I don't have much time to do things besides school, work, some chores, and survive right now, but I've been thinking about some hobbies I enjoy and would like to incorporate into my life when I decide to make the time without burning out!
Reading - I used to be big on reading just about any books I could get my hands on. Then I was really focused on reading self help, and now that I haven't been reading at all, I've been thinking about getting back into reading. Always looking for book recommendations, and I do have my eye on some books I'd like to purchase.
Gardening - if I had the time and space, I'd love to have a flower garden or a vegetable garden. It always makes me happy when the fruits of my efforts come to life, so tending to plants and gardening sounds super fun and relaxing.
Video Games - I used to play video games on and off, but I wouldn't mind owning a PS4 or a Switch and spending some time playing video games whenever I'd want time to wind down.
Cooking/Baking - I love learning things, and the sense of pride I've gotten in the past when receiving praise for things I've cooked or baked has really driven me to want to increase my skill. I've only baked something from scratch once in my life, but I'd really like to expand my skills in making desserts.
Exercise - I'm talking all forms of it! Dancing, martial arts/kickboxing type activities, yoga, pilates, running, swimming, spin/cycling, weight lifting (again), calisthenics, all of it! I don't currently look like the exercise type but I find various forms of movement to be so fun! If I had more time, I'd be trying new things all the time!
Volunteer work - This is something I used to do all the time, and it's a hobby that I enjoyed that kept me humble. Not only that, but I thoroughly enjoy showing kindness and compassion to others. Making a difference in anuwau brings me so much joy, and I love meeting new people and learning their stories. I also would love to volunteer with animals, because they deserve so much love and affection too!
Drawing/Art - I used to draw for fun but when I started college, I didn't have the time to devote to continuously increasing my art skills. I still own a sketch kit, coloring materials, and several sketchbooks so it really is a matter of having time.
Crochet - The thought of making things that I can gift to others seriously makes me so excited!! Crochet seems like such a fun, crafty, relaxing activity and the added fun of gifting those crafts to others would make it so fun!!
Scrapbooking - I don't know if I'd ever do this one, but I do Ike the idea of keeping my memories in a physical space, and not just in like pictures on my phone.
Learning - if school wasn't crazy busy, I'd spend all my time learning languages (ASL, Japanese, Spanish, Korean, Mandarin, Italian, etc), computer coding skills, how to make and do certain things, just anything I can do to keep my mind enriched.
Upcycling/Altering Clothes - I would love to upcycle or alter articles of clothes into more personalized pieces for myself. The thought of having a personalized, hand made closet full of clothes makes me really want to buy a sewing machine and learn how to use it to my advantage!
That's all I can think of for now that I'd like to someday incorporate into my life. Having hobbies is always so fun, but I've been so busy and tired that I don't mess with any of the hobbies I'd want to do. If anyone has any tips for time management, or resources for beginning new hobbies, please let me know!!
til next time lovelies 🩷
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luveline · 1 month
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Hey my lovely, could i equest a blurb where reader seeks one of spencer's hugs and he's all soft and mushy about it!! I just think he'd give really warm hugs and want one so bad!
shy!reader + post!prison Spencer have a hug
Spencer understands why you might find him intimidating. He did go to prison for a few weeks, and even if the idea of his being a potential felon didn’t scare you, there’s nothing wrong with being nervous around the unknown. You’ve had a few more weeks to get to know the others on the team. He tries not to take it personally that you’re closer with some of them than you are him. 
Plus, you’re awfully shy. 
Spencer’s been trying to communicate that he’s an idiot. He was shy, once, and he tends to be shy about things now, too, even if he’s taken to hiding that. He hides a lot, these days. 
But things aren’t hopeless with you. You’re inarguably his best work friend now that Morgan’s not around, taking the desk next to his —through coincidence or insistence, he has no idea. 
“What flavour do you have today?” he asks. 
You show him your bag. The convenience store outside of work has the strangest sweets from all sorts of places. You’ve been bringing in a different bag each day, and you always share. “Today is apricot and peach ‘millions’,” you tell him, shaking the bright pink bag like a rattle. 
Inside, the millions bounce against each other like miniscule polystyrene balls but with a heavier weight. 
“Awesome!” he says, holding out his hand. “Please?” 
You rip the corner and tip a generous helping of candies into his palm, doing the same in your own hand. “Ready?” you ask. 
“Three, two, one.” 
You both tip your heads back at the same time. Apricot and peach are similar flavours, and Spencer can’t tell the difference when they’re both in play. He can also taste apple juice and the sharp citric acid flavour they put in every candy. 
He can’t tell if you like them. He quite enjoys it, will happily eat the leftovers if you’re not interested, but your attention isn’t on the candy when he looks up. You’re staring straight at him. 
“What?” he asks, perturbed. 
“Nothing, just. Had a rough morning. Thanks for trying the candy with me.” 
He frowns. “I’m sorry. Let me know if there’s something I can do to make you feel better. I can make you a cup of hot chocolate?” 
“Don’t worry about it.” 
Spencer’s sure that to an outsider, he and the team appear to travel to a hundred cities a month. In reality, cases aren’t as densely packed, especially with the government expanding their profiling teams, and the majority of Spencer’s day is spent answering emails and giving advice to agents, law enforcement, and his colleagues. He doesn’t see much of you (where you’re forced to work ViCAP calibration as newbies usually are, almost like a hazing) but he does take you that hot chocolate around lunch time. Just to make sure you have the option. 
It’s sometime past four PM when you appear again. 
“Hey,” he says, turning to you where you’re paused behind your desk chair, “you're finally done?” 
“Not yet. So many case files to transcribe, opinions to cross check, signatures and…” You wince. “It’s a lot. You already know.” 
“I don’t, actually. I only ever had to do ViCAP as punishment, and I was extremely well-behaved. For a while, anyway.” 
You hesitate with something heavy on the tip of your tongue. You’re like every profiler wherein your tells are self-identified and quelled, but you’re still so new, and Spencer’s an expert. You want to ask him for something, but you don’t think you’re allowed. If he presses the issue you’ll shut down, and if he offers you another cup of hot chocolate you’ll simply drink it without letting him in on the real secret. 
Spencer waits. 
“Spencer, you don’t have to say yes, just… You’re the nicest friend I have, and you always know what I need to hear. Um, I know you don’t like touching people and I wouldn’t ask you to if you don’t want to, but it’s been a really long time since someone hugged me, and…” Your voice gets quieter and quieter, until you’re whispering, and then fizzling out. 
“You want a hug?” he asks, surprised. 
“If that’s okay.” 
“I give really good hugs,” he warns, climbing from his chair immediately, arms opened, an unmissable invitation. “You’ll never get over it.” 
“Really?” 
He can’t believe you came to him specifically for a hug. He’s gonna lose his mind. Gentle, Spencer ushers you into his arms, head quick to duck down, his thumb on your shoulder. 
You could’ve asked anybody in the office for a hug. Penelope would have hugged your brains out. Emily, Unit Chief and secret sweetheart, would’ve taken you off of ViCAP and given you a loving pat on the back. But you didn’t ask Penelope or Emily, you asked him. 
“You don’t have to ask me first,” he says quietly. 
“You don’t like touching.” 
“That’s more to do with germs, and I’m not worried about yours,” he says. “Unless you’re about to tell me you have a headache.” 
“It’s like this pounding behind my eyes,” you say with a laugh. 
Spencer smiles, his mouth and nose to the side of your head. He gives you a good ten seconds of quiet, his palm warming your shoulder, before he murmurs, “Any better?” 
“You’re really warm,” you murmur back. 
Spencer resists the urge to squeeze you. “It's the oxytocin.”
“Or you’re just really, really warm.”
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u3pxx · 1 month
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KIM KITSURAGI - “Is that. My kineema.”
COMPOSURE [Medium: Success] - Something in him is about to break, *big time*.
EMPATHY - And it’s not going to be pretty, do something!
- DRAMA [Formidable] - Everything is fine!
- “Sure is.”
DRAMA [Formidable: Failure] - Surely he’s aware that he’s not the *only* person in the world who owns a Kineema?
YOU - “Is it really *yours*? I mean, plenty of people have their own Kineemas, right? Like working men, government offices, uh, firefighters I guess, maybe even animal control people? Exactly! A million different people who could’ve driven it into the uh…”
DRAMA - Pause, my liege! Ixnay on the Ineemakay!
YOU - “It could even be our *mysterious* joyrider!”
KIM KITSURAGI - Your frenzied babbling falls deaf to the lieutenant's ears. Instead, he approaches the broken vehicle, sunken in the ice. He moves with a caution and gentleness you haven’t seen him display before.
INLAND EMPIRE - It must be cold and lonely down there, in the icy water. Maybe he could sense its sorrow, calling to him…
PERCEPTION (SIGHT) [Easy: Success] - His hands, which are always stiffly placed behind his back, are trembling.
ENDURANCE - This is the shuffle of a tired, tired man.
HALF LIGHT - He’s going to do something drastic because of you. Oh god, terrible! You’re a terrible liar! You can’t look at this, you just can’t!
VOLITION [Formidable: Success] - It's not *you* who drove his kineema into the sea. You have plenty of faults, but this one is decidedly not yours.
KIM KITSURAGI - He kneels down with his head bowed, casting his face in shadow. He plants a hand on the ice to stabilize himself, squinting to get a better view of the motor carriage. “Detective, it says ‘57’ on it.”
YOU - Sweat drips down your brow, and you feel a terrible headache coming. “Maybe our joyrider has an affinity for that number?”
LOGIC - He's not stupid, he knows that it's not that.
KIM KITSURAGI - “57.”
YOU - “What about 57?”, you brace yourself.
KIM KITSURAGI - “Precinct 57.”
YOU - You wince. “Kim, look-”
KIM KITSURAGI - “When I woke up in the Whirling-in-Rags with no memory of what happened during the days before, I've taken note that something of mine has gone missing.” He grits his teeth. "A very. Important. Something."
He runs his hands over his face, messing his already unkempt hair in the process. Regret creeps up on his features. “God. Fuck. They’re going to fire me over this, they’re not going to hear me out.”
EMPATHY - Desperation settles in the lieutenant's tone. Sadly, you find yourself in agreement, even if you don’t want it to be the truth.
YOU - “People are more valuable than machines, Kim.”
KIM KITSURAGI - “Not people like me.” He rasps.
YOU - “…”
KIM KITSURAGI - Before you can say anything more, you fail to notice the lieutenant carefully walking onto the edge of the ice. He looks over the frigid water, a dizzying blue that mirrors and distorts his exhausted face back to him.
YOU - “Kim?”
KIM KITSURAGI - Seconds pass as he looks to be contemplating something. Out of nowhere, he casually takes another step where the ice ends and the sea begins. It happens all too quick for the lieutenant to even voice a call for help— if he even wanted to — his body plunging into the cold water before your eyes.
YOU - “KIM!!!!”
uhhh bonus stuff? sorry i have swap au brainworms pfttt
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(im not sure what skills kim has at the moment so rn he only has narration as his inner monologue ok whoops, i would like to keep harry as the guy who thinks in dialogue trees so im still figuring it out pfttt)
also, this was done bc i wanted to expand on these old scribbles of mine, just like an idea, i just think that he'd be having an even worse time wheezes
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easy-there-leftovers · 8 months
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I See You, Darling
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[Astarion x reader] The idea never left my mind, and I so very badly need this right now. Heavily inspired by this cutscene where Tav chooses a dialogue option and Astarion's eyes just deviate-- (gif above, just wait for his eyes to look at you WKDKWKDK) |Word count: 2k.| Based off of this post I made.
Part 2 here!!
Also, this is more heavy on the world building rather than dialogue. If I end up making this a series, I might write with more dialogue in mind but it was just necessary to do this first afhjaqfbnjkafbnebn--
A story in which an overworked art student longs for a fictional character that they've devoted so much of their time to.
Alternatively; Astarion realizes there's someone else watching him. And he can't wait to get acquainted with them.
————━─━────༺༻────━─━————
One.
Two.
Three.
It takes you three seconds to comprehend what just happened. Three seconds for you to try and save the progress you’ve already made so far. Three seconds for you to feel the chill of dread run up your spine. 
You’ll admit, perhaps you were simply tired. Attending a prestigious school for the arts doesn’t exactly leave you with much free time to indulge in more calming forms of recreation. Your course requires you to consume a wide array of media to expand your library of creativity, after all. All in the name of generating more interesting media to entrance and enthrall your audience with your original work. 
Maybe all the moving pictures and swimming texts have caused you to greatly misunderstand what you are seeing. Surely, your favorite character isn’t looking directly at you, right?
Right?
But before that, let’s review what might have happened earlier to explain just what exactly in gods name is happening.
Shall we?
——
You purchased the game a few months back. “Baldur’s Gate 3.” A game that took the players and immersed them in the world of Dungeons & Dragons, introducing them to the mechanics of tabletop RPG as they did. It seemed interesting enough. And if the concept of character creation and storytelling didn’t sell you on the idea of it, the pretty faces on the cover certainly did.
So, with the little money you could spare from your part time job at your own institution’s library, and with what little sanity you had left to argue with, you impulsively bought said game. And it was fun. Exhilarating. Electrifying. 
Until you ran into a problem.
Astarion. The rogue, elven vampire that you have chosen to romance after careful deliberation. You scoffed to yourself. He was one of the biggest reasons why you purchased the blasted game at all. You’ve carefully studied the character in all his glory, from his striking carmine eyes and delicate unstained curls, to his aptitude for bloodshed and all manners of gore. He was such an interesting character, giving you more and more reason to pursue him as the story progressed. Yet the same can’t be said about your relationship with him. Or at least your “Tav’s” relationship with him. 
You’ve had some difficulty in deepening your relationship with the ex-magistrate. It seemed as if no matter what options you chose, no matter what manner of advances you made, he’d be quick to dismiss you. Painting you as a desperate little pup as he did. Denying you the opportunity of further knowing him. You’ve created and overwritten more save slots than you'd like to admit, perusing each one to select different lines of dialogue only to be rejected time and time again.
You thought it strange. But perhaps this was simply the way his route was meant to unfold. He was such an incredibly complex character after all. Perhaps this was meant to prove the party’s loyalty. 
But that didn’t stop you from being frustrated with other aspects of the gameplay. You've spent countless nights hunched on your work chair, back curving like a dead bug as you analyzed each and every possible outcome in combat. Eyes, bloodshot from cutting your sleeping hours short, just to endure the story until you were at an appropriate place to log out. And hair, flicking and curling out in different directions due to you weaving your hands through them in exasperation. 
You saw your reflection on your screen as it darkened to load the next scene and you couldn't help but stare at your character in slight envy. You know full well that however you designed them, it wouldn’t affect how the others perceived you, and yet you couldn’t help but pretty them up for your own interest. You designed it with yourself in mind, but making them far more attractive than you would ever be. Effortlessly beautiful as they stirred to wake up in the forest you settled in for camp.
How could Astarion ever turn this beautiful being away? If not for their heroism, then surely their looks would be enough to draw him in, no?
And speak of the devil. Once you could control your character again, you readied them to interact with your sharply dressed companion. Wanting to try your luck once more as the bright sun shone upon your character like a promise of a new day. Unfortunately, you’re greeted with a look of boredom, oh so familiar, that you sigh. “I hope you’re not here to beg—” Mocking him, echoing the words you’ve come to expect with faux mirth in your voice. But you cut yourself short when you realize he has yet to say anything. 
Strange.
 What’s even stranger is that he's just staring at you. Well,--- he’s staring at Tav. Your character.
“What the fuck…?” You move your mouse around, clicking to try and toggle the dialogue options to no avail, screen stuck in a cinematic close up of his face. Much like how the camera always pans when awaiting your response. 
However, unlike the common script of his actions that you’re used to, the one that you’ve memorized like a well practiced dance, his eyes smoothly glide off of your character and onto you. 
You freeze, but your heart doesn’t. The beating of your chest growing stronger the longer he looks at you. Eyes, blood red like rubies, boring into your own. He regards you, blinks, and then smiles that deviously charming smile of his before your screen turns dark. Your computer turns off, and you stare in shock of what just happened.
‘No fucking way, no fucking way, no fucking way—‘ You’re not delusional, right? Sure, you’re tired, but no fucking way did you just imagine one of the hottest characters you’ve seen in a while break the fourth wall just to fuck with you.
You laugh to yourself.
Yes, you’re just tired. Nothing like a good four hours of sleep can’t remedy. Although, as you get up from your chair, foolish as it may seem, you grab a used shirt from your floor, and hang it on your computer in the case that those piercing eyes come to life once again while you sleep.
——
You stir awake after your short slumber. Your body, heavy like lead, though not at all a feeling foreign to you. You think about what happened last night, wondering if it was all a dream. Yet as you get ready for the day, you notice your dirtied clothing still on your computer. Covering it as if it were a petrifying doll from a horror movie. You feel childish for doing so, reasoning that you were simply stressed from the events that taken place prior and removed the cloth.
As you did, your screen was brought back to life. Showing you the next night as if your little "tryst" with Astarion never happened. An entire thirty minutes or so of progress seemingly gone. Thankfully, you saved just before your game went haywire and you attempted to load up your last slot. 
Zzzt Zzzzt!
Alas, your game was not cooperating once again. You tried the save just before that and the same error screen presented itself to you. ‘Maybe this is a sign that I should just fucking work instead.’ Irritated at the thought, you moved to log out of the game but a familiar voice convinces you otherwise as the screen returns to normal. 
“Why, hello pup. How was your awfully short slumber?” 
‘Is this— a romance scene?!’ Astarion had never initiated an interaction before! Perhaps the game gods were granting you mercy. Or maybe, something you did last night might have given way for this line of dialogue to open up. Regardless, you happily took the opportunity and began reading your choices.
“Why, hello pup. How was your awfully short slumber?” ━─━────༺༻────━─━
Well. Thank you.
It’s none of your concern, fangs.
Better now that you’re here.
What happened last night?
━─━────༺༻────━─━
What…did happen last night? You don’t recall anything past the blackening of your screen, but it looks like you did something after that which caused this dialogue.
You don’t want to squander this opportunity, who knows when this will happen again, but your curiosity gets the best of you. So you save, and choose option 4. 
“Oh, you poor thing. Spooked you, did I?” He laughs, seemingly taking in the look of confusion that graces both yours and Tav’s face.
“What do you think happened last night?”
“My fucking game crashed.” You answer automatically.
Tav moves to open their mouth but is silenced with a tut. “Not you, spawn.” His eyes crinkle at the corners in amusement, but the way his mouth is pulled in a tightly-lipped smile offers you further insight otherwise. 
“I need your answer.” His eyes are on you yet again, and you feel the world begin to spin.
——
You stir awake after your short slumber. Your body, heavy like lead, though not at all a feeling foreign to you. You think about what happened last night, wondering if it was all a dream. Yet as you plan to get ready for the day, you notice you’re not exactly in a state to do so. You expected to wake at dawn, the dark and cool air to greet you as it fills your room and envelops your walls. Instead, you wake to see an endless amount of evergreen and the smell of the dark and damp grass beneath you filling your senses.
And if spending hours, weeks, months, of playing this damned game has taught you anything, you know that you now reside in the heart of the forest that you usually set up camp in. But this time, you're far from your bedroll and the fire that your party created.
One.
Two.
Three.
It takes you three seconds to comprehend what just happened. Three seconds for you to try and save the progress you’ve already made so far to no avail. Three seconds for you to feel the chill of dread run up your spine. 
And this chill so does love playing games.
You clamber away on your knees when you hear that deep chuckle of his emanate from right beside your ear. Creating as much distance to inspect this figure you’ve yet to face.
You see Astarion in all his vampiric glory. ‘Well, for a vampire spawn, I guess.’ You comment to yourself. Crimson eyes, darker than you imagined, with full, dark lashes contrasting his pallid skin and pure hair that glow under the moonlight. An unsettling, and cursedly attractive, smirk curls onto his lips. His ivory fangs on full display as he does.
“It seems as if those useless artifacts were worth something.” He marvels at his handiwork, his prize, and approaches it with confidence. 
“Well, your character certainly is more ‘prettied up.’” He circles you, carefully appraising his newest asset, and grins. “But you are far more intriguing.”
A simple, “What the fuck?” is all you can muster.
“Although, you are very cute. Cheeky little pup, aren’t you?” He jests.
A simple, “What the fuck?” is all you can muster which earns you a click of his tongue in response.
“You’re not broken, are you? Or am I to anticipate your little ‘what the fuck?’s as your only contribution?” Long, and incredibly masculine, fingers crawl and curl to grasp your chin like a spider. 
“I’ve waited months to have you. And now here you are, finally within my grasp.” The statement causes something to stir within you.
“What do you mean, ‘months?” 
He narrows his eyes, possibly trying to comprehend your stupidity.
“I’ve been watching you. Waiting, for the right moment. Interacting with this– caricature of yourself until you could deny yourself of me no more.” Blood rushes to your head. Your cheeks burning in embarrassment for seeming overly eager. And in panic as his intentions have yet to be cleared.
“And now that I’m here? Do you want to kill me?” You feel your heartbeat in your ears, awaiting his response. Your eyes wide in fear, yet trying to fake heroic bravado in the attempts to gain the upperhand.
And in this moment, he thinks you absolutely invigorating.
“Oh no, sweet pet. I’ve waited far too long for that. I’m going to make you mine.”
————━─━────༺༻────━─━————
Should I make this into a series? "The adventures of a misplaced artist in Baldur's Gate!!" Or something like that. Let me know, lol
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sillysowa · 8 months
Text
RUNWAY MODEL
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PAIRING: hobie brown x fem!reader
GENRE: suggestive, smut
WORD COUNT: 2.9k
WARNINGS: smut, vaginal fingering, choking (fem! and male receiving), vaginal sex, both hobie and reader are switches
AUTHORS NOTE: not proofread cause i’m so tired i can feel my eyes melting
SYNOPSIS: in which hobie brown is a model, and you are his favorite designer
Hobie walked into your studio nonchalantly with no apparent purpose, like usual. The day had been long and he was tired of bending around for the photographers, wanting to visit his favorite designer. He sat his tall figure in the chair across from you, kicking his legs up on the desk because he knows it doesn’t bother you,
“Oh, Hobie…you’re still here?” You mumbled drowsily, exhaustion present in your hoarse voice. It’s late and you probably shouldn’t still be here at the studio, but you’re so caught up in your work. Hobie leans forward slightly, catching glimpse at the scribble artistic designs that he can tell after for him,
“Mhm,” Hobie hums, “You never tire of this work do you?” He chuckles, leaning back and tossing around a pen of yours, “Y’alright? Must be tired.” He asks in that deep voice of his,
You sigh, “Of course…just…gotta get this right.” You scribble around on the paper,
Hobie’s interest is piqued at this and he eyes the sketch pad, “You know I’ll wear whatever you come up with.” He leans back in the chair, still studying the work in progress, “Don’t have to do such hard work f’me.”
“I know…that’s what makes it so complex…I mean there’s so many different things I can see you in! Like…this maybe?” You ramble, flipping around your sketch pad to show him the punk rock outfit you had crafted for him. It’s skimpy to say the least, exposing his abs, most of his legs, and the pants hang low, exposing that pretty V-line of his that you’ve seen with watchful eyes as he gets his pictures taken for especially seductive shoots.
Hobie studies the artworks with squinty eyes, a smirk spreading across his face,
“I like that one…” He smiles knowingly, bringing his feet off the desk to support his head in his hands with his elbows on his knees. He glances up at the design again, and then back at you,
“You always do these designs f’me, hm? Am I your favorite model?” He teases, smirking a little like he knows a secret.
You smile and lean back, chewing the inside of your cheek for a moment in contemplation, “I mean you’re honestly probably my favorite out of all the models I’ve worked with.“ You say bluntly, wanting to only slightly allude to how deep your desire for Hobie is. Clearly, it’s written all over your face. You notice his stare as he obviously tries not to smile,
“Wanna expand on that? You look a little…flustered.” His voice drops low, his flickering down to your lips and even lower for a moment.
“I’m not. You’re a stunning model, Hobie.” You smile, continuing your work. Your face is burning hot and you can’t look at him because all you’re thinking about is how how badly you want him to bend you over the table with his long fingers around your neck. He suddenly changes the topic,
“D’you think I could do a gig solely on m’hands?” He asks like he knows the answer, “I think you’re someone who can appreciate their beauty, hm? With your drawings n’all?” He smirks teasingly and you feel your heart drop into your stomach,
“What?”
“Well you’ve drawn my hands about a hundred times…I’ve seen it. Can’t even keep your eye off of em when we talk.” He replies, leaning in and shortening the distance between the two of you between the table. Clearly, he had been through your sketchbook—your stomach churned at the thought,
“And how would you know that?” You whisper, flustered at the idea of of being caught in a sense but so fucking up for this challenge that he’s offering—there’s nothing to be ashamed of now that he obviously knows you have a severe hand kink. He keeps smiling at you as if he was entertained by all this,
“Doesn’t matter. What does the bough is that you must take a hefty liking to my fingers, right?” He says, flexing them again across the table, stretched out to their full length. You don’t even give in to your desire, eyes locked on the way his middle and ring finger press together suggestively a d make your face feel hot.
You bite your lip, tearing your eyes away as you flip the pages on your sketchbook to change the subject,
“A-Anyways, I’ve also got this design you could try…”
Hobie just smiles and leans back, deciding to let it go for now and toy with you later. He looks at the papers for a while before he speaks up,
“You’ve done a great job.” Hobie says in awe, gesturing to the designs with a nod of his head and that signiature sly smile, “I like ‘em.” Hobie’s tone switches to his playful-work-voice of his now, and he reaches his hands out, gripping the edge of the desk as he stands,
“So, Y/N,” Hobie starts looking down on you. “Got any of these ready for me to try on?” He asks, leaning down to your eye level.
You squirm a little in your seat, your thighs clenching together. He always gets you so riled up you’ve never had this kind of one on one time together. You often just catch glimpse of him during his shoots,
“Yeah…I actually have one of them here if you really want to try it out early,” You say excitedly, walking to the clothing rack and plucking it off. Its gorgeous, grungy, and incredibly revealing. The other designers love to see Hobie in multiple layers and a lot of baggy clothing, but when you got lucky enough to catch the photographers bending Hobie around in nothing but tight boxers for his Calvin Klein shoot—you nearly died, “It’s a little skimpy.”
“Oh yeah? Just f’me?” Hobie chuckles, walking up behind you in the dimly lit room and brushing his hand onto of yours to grab the clothing hanger. He looks at you with his head over your shoulder, awfully close,
“If you wanted to see me naked could’ve just asked” Hobie teases, whispering in your ear before turning away from you. To your utmost horror and delight, he starts stripping right then and there,
“Oh my god you slut, right infront of me?” You gasp, turning around letting out a quick laugh in disbelief. Your face feels hot after catching the sight of his jeans catching on his dick as he pulled them down, looking at you out of the corner of his eye,
A snicker comes from Hobie as he gets undressed in a fashion comparable to a strip-tease,
“Oh come on doll, it’s not like you haven’t seen me at work with even less on. I don’t mind you watching.” He pry’s, his voice taunting and inviting like a sweet honey. You think of your job. You think about how you thought you were alone only 10 minutes ago before Hobie strolled in. It’s beyond after hours, and it’s just the two of you—quite literally a recipe for disaster. Hobie finished getting dressed, standing up straight in the designer outfit,
“Alright, alright, it’s safe you prude. Come get a look at your creation.” Hobie holds his arms out, flipping them and getting a look at it all himself before smiling at you. You turn and look at him and instantly your eyes as they widen,
“Oh…my…god…” You gasp, “You look so good!” Excitement covers your to face as you walk up to him, inspecting how everything fits. You marvel in the way his toned chest looks on display and his nipple piercings under the sheer top. The studded jewelry and leather accessories add so much to the look but most of all…his hands in those fingerless gloves are to die for. You inspect them closely, pulling them towards you as you dreamily stare at his long fingers, toying with them in your hands,
Hobie smiles in the silence of your admiration, “Y’know it’s kinda funny...” He murmurs. His left hand gently holds onto yours, lacing your fingers with his. His other hand grazes your side,
You freeze and look up at him—instantly, your stomach drops at his gaze, “What’s funny?”
“You clearly got a hand kink or something…or is it just mine, hm? Got a thing for me, miss designer?” He teases, gently pulling you close with his knee in between your legs. Your heart beats in your chest like a drum and your toes curl in your shoes. You lick your lips, melting at the proximity,
“Well it looks like you’ve got me all figured out huh?” You whisper as your skin warms under his touch, his hands feeling like fire on your skin. You shouldn’t be doing this…but it feels too good to stop,
“Yeah?” He pulls you up in an embrace, nuzzling into the crook of your neck with his hot breath on your sensitive skin. His left hand grips your hair as he whispers into your ear,
“Say it.” Hobie enunciates every syllable, his lips hovering over the sensitive skin of your ear. You press your body against him and all logical reasoning leaves your mind,
“I want you.” You groan into his ear, balling your fists around his mesh shirt. Hobie grins, and his voice is low and husky when he whispers,
“I know you do. I want you too, dollface.” He wraps his arm around you fully, one hand still in your hair, and the other around your back. He stares straight ahead, his knee edging further up between your legs as he whispers,
“Let me show you…” He whispers into your ear, biting it gently and leaning down to kiss your neck. Your mind melts and you nearly collapse against him—it’s an all numbing feeling to have model lips like Hobie’s on your neck and his tall stature holding you so close,
You moan softly and dig your fingers into his clothes at the feeling, his lips on your neck make you feel so good inside. His large thigh slides up and now your skirt is pushing and your warm pussy is on his thigh. It’s lewd and oh so embarrassing until he groans, his voice all needy and horny, right in your ear,
“Oh, fuck…you’re already so wet? I’ve barely touched you, love.” He coo’s clicking his tongue, slipping his hands under the back of your shirt and undoing your bra in a swift, skilled motion. He toys with the hem of your shirt, pulling it up and over your head. After getting you topless, his hands are palming your breasts wasting absolutely no time. You throw your head back and shamelessly whine at the feeling—the feeling being indescribable desire,
“God I just knew those—ah! Mmm-knew those hands would feel so good.” Your breath hitches in your throat as you mewl, his fingers pinching your nipples while you’re mid sentence. He laughs darkly at you, leaning down and taking one of your nipples into his mouth, squirming his tongue around the small bud,
“Mmm…” He hums around your skin, his eyes rolling into the back of his head for your viewing pleasure—and oh does it do things to you. Your desperate moans echo in the empty studio, the low lighting reflecting off of Hobie’s dark eyes driving you crazy,
One of his hands grabs your chin, and he stands up straight again, lifting your face up so that he could look into your eyes, “Keep making those pretty noises, gorgeous…” He murmurs, his eyes on yours flickering down to your lips.
You so badly want to kiss him that you can’t even wait for him, pulling him the collar of his shirt and meshing your lips against his in a matter of seconds, capturing his lips in a moral-melting kiss. You knew if anyone saw you two—colleagues—grinding and kissing in the studio late at night, you’d both lose your jobs on the spot; but there was no stopping now. His lips were like magic on yours. You felt your heart rate pickup the moment his hands met your thighs and he picked you up, walking you to the desk and never once breaking away from the desperate needy kiss you were sharing. When it starts to get to your head and you feel a need for air, you break away from the kiss, panting and looking into his lust blown eyes,
“Fuck me on that desk…right now.”
Hobie is shocked for a quick moment before a grin spreads across his face. He wastes no time in laying you onto the desk and kissing his way down your stomach, his fingers toying with the top of your skirt,
“What do you say I put these long fingers of mine to use, hm?” Hobie’s whispers, his voice raspy and sending need straight to your aching pussy.
“You better…” You thrust your hips up as he removes your skirt, his fingers grazing your thighs before he spits onto them, shoving two right into your tight pussy,
“Not so sure i’m the model anymore—fucking look at you…” Hobie groans, kissing your thighs as he slowly thrusts his fingers into you. His pace is agonizing, and you grab him by his wrist,
“Please…just shut up and fuck me…I’ve seen how big it is and I can’t wait any longer…” You grunt and Hobie’s eyes widen more than you’ve ever seen. It’s his turn to look flustered and the feeling of being spoken to in such a dirty manner is enough to make his dick twitch in his pants,
“How can I deny such an offer?” He laughs breathlessly, standing up and unbuckling his spikey belt, pulling everything down and letting his cock spring free. It’s long, and thick, and there’s precum leaking from his tip like the glaze on your favorite dessert. He feels his face heat up at your hungry stare, leaning down and cupping his hands in the bend of your legs, pushing them down at your sides and spreading your legs wide open for him,
“Please—“
“Yeah I know…” Hobie groans, smearing his pre-cum across your pussy and gently thrusting into you. It takes your breath away and shakes the desk, your mouth hanging open as a guttural moan tumbles out of your mouth,
Hobie groans and kisses your neck, “You’re so fucking tight.” Hobie whispers, his voice shaking. He groans and slams his hips into yours, his hands gripping your hips as he desperately fucks into you. Never in your entire life had you felt something so big inside of you—so filling and so fucking good. Of course a model as gorgeous as Hobie has such a perfect dick—but this position isn’t doing it for you.
You sit up, your hands on his chest as you push him down onto the desk and crawl on top. Hobie looks pleasantly surprised at this, his hands coming up to your hips,
“Fuck…” He whines, his head thrown back and his adams apple bobbing in his neck. You sink down on his length, grunting so loud you’d think it’s injuring you as your hand comes to Hobie’s neck. You give him a gentle squeeze and he nods at you, his eyelashes fluttering as he slaps your ass,
“C’mon.”
You ride him like your life depends on it, your hands tight around his neck and his clothes. The studio echoes with both of your moans and you feel your head spinning as his cock melts your insides, the sensation eliciting desperate moans out of you.
Hobie feels lightheaded and delirious with your hand around his neck and your pussy squeezing him so good, broken moans, grunts, and whimpers leaving his lips. The messy sounds fill the dark room and you can barely hold on any longer,
“Give it to me—please…”
You squeeze his neck just right and his hand comes up to yours as you ride him, your pussy clenching and your orgasm nearing. Now both of you are gripping each others necks, grunting and panting and falling apart so beautifully,
“I’m gonna—“ Hobie starts but he doesn’t finish…well he does. He cums deep inside you as you continue to ride him through it all, making a sloppy mess and coating his dick and thighs in cum. His head falls back against the hard wood and you ride his soul out until you cum. When you do, you’re shaking and moaning loudly, your hands moving from his neck to his shoulders to support yourself as you nearly pass out, pulling too hard on the mesh shirt and tearing it down his chest,
Hobie’s breathing is slow yet heavy as he tries to get a grip on reality now. His hands are still holding your hips and his brain still feels like jell-o, but he’s slowly coming to his senses,
“Y’look so good fucked out like this.” He mumbles, smoothing his thumbs over your bare skin,
“You think I’m the one who’s fucked out?” You giggle as you look Hobie over. His makeup is smudged, his clothes torn, and his eyebrows are as furrowed as they were when he came. He looks perfect, because how could he look anything but? He’s a model…and he’s your art no matter what,
“Wait stay right there…” You smile, walking behind him to your desk drawers and getting your camera, coming back around to his front. Hobie rolls his eyes and laughs incredulously at you, holding his pose with his elbows behind him, his lips parted and his eyebrows pinched, and his cock on full display still pumping its cum. You snap the picture and instantly swear to yourself that this would not be the last time you fuck Hobie.
@ohxx @luxxtuxx @fatenpara @hobesbf @defnot-bri
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fillinforlater · 3 months
Text
Pink Sheets of the Gangbang Queen
Male Reader x Kim Gaeul
Length: 1759 words
Tags: post-gangbang-unclarity, a fuckton of cum, the biggest creampies you can imagine, sluttiest_woman_ever!Gaeul, riding, reverse cowgirl, mating press, cumming again, surprisingly sweet
TW: nasty, a lot of cum by different people
Credit: @friskyriskywhisky had the idea and wrote most of it, I just expanded it as far as I could. Maybe there will be more Gangbang Queen stuff, but this was basically just a double BFH lol
(A/N: Have fun with this crazy, short piece!)
“I want one more…”
Gaeul lies on her nasty bed, which is not only the size of a New York apartment room but also a lot more comfortable. The fresh evidence of sin is all over the once royal pink bedsheet befitting of a princess, a queen to be more accurate. Her comically large pillow is full of wet fingerprints, there are even hints of Gaeul bending over it because she loves it when men penetrate her from behind and fuck her into the soft thing. The headboard and the walls nearby are all smeared with her own slick and the cum from the dozen of guys who unloaded a week's worth and then some for her, on her, because of her. Who knows how much genetic coding is now dripping down those walls, or the side of her bed or along her thighs.
Either way, Gaeul knows that the pungent creampie of hers only feels this good because at least ten horny men put their spunk deep into her cunt. Be it fat cocks, long ones, small, smelly, oddly shaped—Gaeul takes them all and her insides shape to each accordingly. For the horde of cocks it’s an incredible feeling with a surprising snugness, while Gaeul yearns and shouts (as long as there is no shaft testing her gag reflex) for them to finish quickly and deep. Though a marvelous feeling, she is never satisfied. She needs one more, she doesn’t even care if it’s the tiniest rest or a gigantic, creamy load—all that matters is that he cums inside her.
Gaeul’s once-animated and sex-crazed sexual partners have either left or completely passed out on the floor next to her bed—except lucky you, the only one lying naked next to her. Lucky you, who she now eyes, admiring your features while you're half asleep. She crawls over and gently flips you onto your back, stirring you awake in the process.
In your state of extreme grogginess, you aren't able to tell at first if you're being eaten alive or attacked by a savage animal. Just when your fight or flight response springs into action, a pair of lips press against yours. They instantly calm you down like a mothers embrace after a lucid nightmare. You can't help but smile unconsciously at how gentle it feels. Gaeul’s floral-scented shampoo reassures you who's currently kissing you, her touchy, wet and tender fingers reminding you of the first time she checked out your body…
It was a rainy night in one of the many underground bars in Seoul—the type of bar that makes you raise an eyebrow at first, someone with connections has recommended it, looks suspicious; then you fell into the trap of fun conversations and nice liquor that ultimately led to a selection ceremony. This was the moment you realized why this was not a commonly visited place.
Everyone went silent at her entry. Gaeul, the well-known (at least for most people that regularly visit these exclusive bars) gangbang queen was craving men tonight, many men. She was not picky, in fact, there was only one condition you had to fulfill:
“Three days worth of cum. If you had sex or jerked off during the last three days, you’re out for tonight.”
No one dared to defy her or lie to her. She diligently checked everyone’s balls and was extremely thorough, especially with you, who she gently pushed against a bar stool, hand past your waistband. Your breath hitched, hers too when her slender fingers caressed your balls.
“Tall, horny—and at least ten days of cum.
“I’d love for you to join the after party in my pink bed.”
That’s how Gaeul found you, touched you, lured you in and turned you on, like she does at this moment…
It's been minutes now, with no signs of stopping or letting go from Gaeul, her lips still fully attached to yours just to occasionally back off and peck at it again. The last remnants of a dream that could never match this disappear. They are replaced by memories that slowly creep back and your heart drops. You remember what happened not long ago, right on these pink sheets—don’t lie to yourself, you know it happens every other night.
Those soft lips of hers were satisfying other men not too long ago, fully enveloped around shafts of different shapes and sizes. That tongue of hers glided across the cockhead of multiple partners and made sure that no spot on their balls was left out. She would fill her mouth with as much manly musk and precum as she could before her throat was getting assaulted by who knows how many cocks, endlessly coating the back of it with thick cum and forcing her to gag and cry, which everyone knows is a huge turn on for the gangbang queen.
It’s those lips that form a seal around yours and it’s that mouth you attack lazily with your tongue.
Who are you to complain though? Gaeul is the greatest kisser your lips have ever met. Your obsession with her took control of your life even though you had no chance with her. You're just a nobody when Gaeul is the well-beloved queen. The gangbang queen - for those close enough to be her little circle filled with lust and desire. Yet somehow you saw a chance and took it, even if it means taking sloppy seconds (or thirds? Fifths? Wait, how many guys are here again?).
Your mind snaps back to the present when you feel your cock poking at her entrance. Hang on, did she even—fuck! You shiver in both pleasure and disgust. You're plunged into her sloppy cunt, extremely tight, even after being abused by multiple men (some girthier than the ridiculous sex toys she has in her collection). 
Gaeul’s walls hug your tip first, then slowly adjust to your size, like they have become your personal sexy toy. The pleasure really kicks in when the gangbang queen puts your hands on her hips and adds your name into the mixture of huffs and moans. Her incredibly damp cavern and how slippery her whole crotch is against your own, it displays a reality you don't want to admit: You're fucking Gaeul through the creampie of other men. Using the foreign substance as a sticky wannabe lube as you slowly ramp up your pace, you're thinking with your other head only; that’s not an uncommon occurrence with the gangbang queen around. 
Sex with her has you drunk, dazed, carelessly chasing your own high. You want to be the only one to have your load inside of her cunt. Gaeul yearns for breeding, and the sperm of all the other disgusting men, still unconscious in this room is deemed not enough. At this moment you decide to fuck the creampie out of her and replace it with your own.
You're frantically thrusting in and out of her, she replicates your passion as she rides you. Heaps of old cum get forced out with the assistance of gravity but mainly due to the pump that is your cock and the endless pumping into her cunt. Gaeul switches to a reverse cowgirl position and it's only now that you notice that her ass got absolutely filled as well. 
This should not be a surprise, she is the gangbang queen after all, yet you want to look away. This is exclusively other men's cum leaking out of Gaeul and onto your abs. It feels extremely wrong, fucking filthy and somewhat gross. The eagerness of the girl on your dick makes you forget that though. For a short while, you just admire her back, her small, shapely ass and the way her moans are in perfect harmony with the sound of flesh hitting flesh and cum being squeezed out. 
With your whole cock still buried inside her, bottoming her out, you two clumsily get into a mating press position. Gaeul is the most flexible girl you know, her small frame easily capable of folding and bending into every position you want. This position quickly becomes your favorite, because you don’t have to see her leaking asshole anymore, but you know that she is gaping and the worthless spunk steadily leaves her anal cavity. 
Every time you thrust into her, you see and feel her whole ass and thighs ripple. Shock waves across the smooth, stretched, spotless skin gets sent in all kinds of directions because you dig your hands into it. There's still a disgusting amount of cum defying gravity, defying your forceful pounding into Gaeul, but you are sure that if you just keep on fucking her, and press her whole body into the mattress, the petite gangbang queen will leak out all the rest. Through the lewdest of sounds and a clear lack of stamina, the thought of Gaeul filled with nothing but you pushes you through.
You feel the knot inside you loosen, strings and little last spurts of cum hitting her cervix as your tip is right up against it. Gaeul has her feet right up against your back, her heels pulling you deeper inside her. She's still rutting against you, her clit drawing circles against your crotch enjoying the friction and satisfaction it brings. The art of the orgasm, Gaeul has mastered it. In her scream, you find an infinite sea of bliss. It draws out your orgasm a few more seconds; perfect seconds.
Post-nut clarity kicks in and you try to block out the other people who are regaining consciousness in the room. Witness how ethereal her beauty is under the ceiling light. You want to kiss her. You want to tell her how much you love her. However, the harsh reality kicks in harder than the post-nut clarity as she shifts her gaze away from you and looks at the time. You close your eyes, take a deep breath to cherish just how fucking good her cock-warming cavern is. 
You pull away, unfazed at the mess in front of you at this point. Party time is over and you’re victorious but defeated, a bit deflated even. Why is the girl you’re falling for the wrong type of queen? 
"Hey..." Gaeul reaches out and grabs your forearm and pulls you a little closer to give you one last peck on your cheek. "Drive safely, okay?” Her fingers tiptoe towards your hand until it reaches the back of your it, her thumb gently rubs circles on it. A new level of intimacy that makes your heart stutter. “Message me when you’re back home."
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