#hopefully i made you get interested in the game
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14dayswithyou · 21 hours ago
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no way you dropped the biggest river lore in the tags and moved on like it was nothing 😭 can i ask if this is still your intentions with him? bc it sounds like you changed your mind halfway 🤔
im ngl though i really enjoy how ren and river are similar and different to each other, but does that mean river would hurt his angel but leave our friends alone the same way ren would never hurt his angel but would unalive all of our friends? since they're suppose to be each other opposites. i really hope this makes sense 😬 my final question is what is ren doing on thursday? i want to go on a cute pier date again 🩷🌸
@secretkoa asked: and can i hear more about what unsent memory is suppose to be about or is that off limits? idk if i asked this in my previous question so ignore me if i did! thank yuo and remember to drink lots of water 🐸🌱
⌞♥⌝ For those who haven't seen the original post, I want to quickly clarify once more that while River was originally my OC, he's since been picked up and revamped by my friend Jesse/@unsentmemory!!
However, now that Jesse has stepped away from the yandere community, River's fate (and da fate of Unsent Memories) has kinda been put on the sidelines for the foreseeable future.
‼️ Massive Unsent Memories and River spoilers under the cut ‼️ CW for: mentions of gore, torture, mutilation, self-harm, etc.
With all of that being said, yes, Jesse's original intention for River was for him to be your standard "serial killer-turned-yandere once he accidentally catches feelings for his latest victim (Bunny)". The only main difference is that I originally planned for River to be a generic murderer first, whereas Jesse had him become a yandere right off the bat.
You also asked to know more about Unsent Memories, and I think giving a general synopsis(?) would be fine?? ^^ But basically... After getting involved in a car accident, Bunny wakes up with amnesia and gets tricked into thinking that this random guy — whom they've never met before — is their loving, supportive boyfriend named River. In turn, he convinces Bunny that staying in their shared home would be more beneficial than staying in the hospital as it might rekindle some old memories, he'd be able to take care of them, and it would be easier for them to recover at their own pace. But surprise!! River is actually a frequent patron at the Murderer Motel™ and now has trapped Bunny in his Torture Basement®!!! <3 He also maaaay or may not've been the one who hit them with Ren's car as well... ^^ Oopsie daisy hehe
And yeah!! Similar to what you've said, River was also supposed to share (somewhat of) a narrative foil with Ren!! I personally wanted them both to have similar, complimenting vibes with each other — all while having completely different/separate motives and incentives when it comes to the object of their affection. I'm glad to see it was conveyed well enough; even after Jesse's additions to River's characterisation :3 I know I already shared some examples in the previous tags, but I can share a few more:
Where Ren puts Angel's feelings and opinions above his own, River purposefully ignores Bunny's and does everything for his own personal benefit. Essentially, "I'm doing this for you" vs "I'm doing this for me".
While Ren would never dream about harming Angel in any capacity, he's perfectly happy to kidnap, extort, torture, and kill everyone else... In contrast to River, who's accustomed to torturing and brutalising others for his own twisted enjoyment and sees it as a way to show his interest in Bunny.
Kinda silly how Ren claims to be a freelance programmer (but is actually a hacker) and how River claims to work at a music shop (it's a coverup for his second torture chamber lmaoooo).
[CW: implications of SH] Ren is willing to go as far as mentally and physically hurting himself if Angel asks him to, whereas River is willing to physically mutilate Bunny if it means keeping them by his side. [end CW]
With that being said, you can assume that Ren is easily swayed by Angel's words, opinions, and emotions, whereas River can easily sway and manipulate Bunny due to his own feelings and emotions.
This is something I've actually mentioned before, but Ren always prefers things to be tidy, so he often cleans himself up after disposing of his victims. Compared to River, who casually wears the bloodstains with pride and blames it on getting a bit rough with someone else during a boxing match.
It's no secret that Ren is willing to change every aspect of himself to earn Angel's love, and River is willing to change his serial killer ways to return Bunny's love. Da power of friendship and repressed childhood memories gksdgjh T_T /silly
Ren pretends to be a Normal Guy© with tons of empathy to spare, whereas River pretends to be a Regular Person℗ with the heart of a himbo.
I could go on but you get da point lol
So, yeah!! This is essentially the vibes we had planned for River (and Unsent Memories) before Jesse stepped down /pos ^^ I feel like talking vaguely about UM is fine since River only has a small cameo in 14DWY — and I'm sure that if Jesse ever returns from war (/silly), they'll give River muuuuch more justice than I possibly can :3c
#Hopefully me yapping in this post will suffice for all the yammering I did in the other posts' tags lmaooooo#Ren: is that guy bothering you? I'll kill him >:(#River: someone is bothering you? more than me? what the fuck#Anyways!! Lords and gentlewomen..... I give you......#River ''you made me catch feelings as a child and I don't do feelings so I'm gonna hit you with a car'' Acosta 👏👏👏 /silly#There are direct parallels between 2017!Ren and River too if you squint#Also would this be 2024!River now?? Since UM is kinda homeless rn? /silly gshjgjs I just made myself sad T_T#Also; yeag... I agree that I could've worded my original tags better because it DOES seem like we changed our minds hjdgjsk#However my original intention [within da tags] was to talk about what River's characterisation would've been BEFORE Jesse stepped down#i.e. me yapping about what you could've expected from Unsent Memories since the game's fate is kinda.... ambiguous now ^^; /nm#But again; I don't want to force Jesse to come back to da yan community and write for a game they no longer have an interest in#It's not the end of the world if 14DWY doesn't get its sequel; and it's not like I'm going to stop working on its prequel either /gen#me: guys there's another yandere in 14DWY!!!#everyone else: omg it's Leon!!!#me: ......yeah... definitely... 😼#.......I yearn to :evilhehe:#💌 — answered.#💖 — 14 days with queue.#💖 — about ren.#🌊 — about river.#secretkoa#Very brief mentions of:#cw torture#cw self harm#cw gore
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fangsandfeels · 4 hours ago
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>Ok but he doesn't. He thinks he does. He thinks he has Rook all pinned down. It's why he doesn't expect Rook to escape the Prison of Regret but Rook does. Solas is convinced that all of his manipulation to get Rook to drown in regret is enough to keep them trapped in that prison. In his pride, he doesn't expect Rook to escape. He once again doesn't expect Rook to see through his final betrayal about the veil. He also doesn't expect Rook to have enough cards by the end to stop him (which is conditional based on what you do in the game)
I don't think that Varric was thinking that far ahead when he was hiring Rook. Hiring someone who can make decisions during high-risk situations and face the outcome is logical - you know that this person has the resilience necessary and won't back away from a challenging task.
However, to hire them because they're unpredictable and can potentially outsmart or outwit Solas? I don't think they were aiming that high or planning that far ahead. They just needed reliable people to hopefully intercept Solas before he sets his plans in motion.
Also, it's not uncommon for Solas to underestimate people. He woke up and decided that the beings living after the Veil deserved to go extinct because he saw them as terminally disabled due to their disconnect from the Fade - and only later was he forced to acknowledge them as people, which didn't dissuade him from his goals, just made him feel bad about what he was going to do.
He had flawed opinions about dwarves, Qunari, humans - and he still has them, but recognizes the Inquisitor as "one of the good ones" on High Approval. So, his pride has always been his weakness and the reason for his hubris.
The Inquisitor would have gotten out of the Prison of Regret, just like many other determined and strong personalities Solas knew personally - because they made as many, if not even more hard decisions as Rook did, and they didn't let regret stop them.
>Cassandra also spent time in the Hunterhorn Mountains north of Orlais, where she worked to rebuild the Seekers. For a time, the new Seekers remained reclusive, showing no interest in worldly affairs and working to a purpose few outside their order could guess.
"For a time" doesn't necessarily mean "for entire 10 years". Also, Seekers seeming reclusive and working to a purpose few outside their order could guess makes sense in the context of the Trespasser - if Cassandra decided to use the Seekers to assist the Inquisitor with searching for Solas, she isn't going to tell everyone and their mother about it.
Nobody knows what exactly Seekers are working on because nobody needs to know. Cassandra did learn a lot, and she learned how to be subtle. At least, had she been included in the plot of the Veilguard, there wouldn't have been any disconnect between the epilogue and her actions.
As for her not showing up in Southern Thedas due to political reasons, it would have been understandable, especially if there was a particularly intense geopolitical situation (I'm elaborating on this in the final paragraphs below). However, since Solas could be anywhere because of the Eluvians, she still can help in the regions she can go to.
>With Corypheus gone there is a power vacuum. A cult of fanatics don't just say "oh well, guess we'll go home now." According to Tevinter Nights (which the franchise being a mixed-media franchise has it's own problems), while a lot distanced themselves from the Venatori there were still a good number of loyalists who remained active. This leads to Aelia trying to fill in that role. She does gain a decent amount of support for it. Even when she's "captured" she has enough sway to escape prison and cause problems. Why? Because the Venatori's ideology is appealing to a lot of people in Tevinter even if they don't directly associate with the cult. However, with her "failure" we have another power vacuum present - so why is it "lazy writing" to have the emergence of another powerful mage that speaks like Corypheus and offer power similarly to what he did fill that?
First of all, yes, telling the story of the game in bits of other media is a horrible practice. Not all people are going to read them - so, it should be explained in the game. Not just by codex entries, but by the characters. I had no clue who Aelia was and why she was bad news - and Neve's vague explanations didn't make it any clearer.
Second, without Corypheus the Venatori lost their competitive differentiation, so to speak- their ideology wasn't any different from the general ideology of Tevinter, just a tad more honest and aggressive.
Yes, Tevinter is obsessed with the idea of its supremacy. Yes, it believes it deserves to rule the world and is working towards this goal.
Venatori are just too loud and messy about it, especially without an ancient god/demigod backing them up. So, if the Venatori can't serve the Tevinter's cause meaningfully or at least fall in line, the Tevinter's power would have either dismantled them (either forcefully or by destroying them from inside), just so they would stop causing so much ruckus and getting unwanted attention.
Alternatively, Tevinter would have exploited their zeal and fanaticism (for instance, encouraging their unethical magic research or even agreeing to finance their search for magisters like Corypheus) because despite being absolutely despicable Tevinter isn't stupid and it knows an opportunity when it sees one.
What I mean to say is that the game tries to show that the Venatori are the main reason why Tevinter is corrupt and not getting any better instead of showcasing how deep the problem goes and how it's much more complicated than "defeating a group of bad guys with an evil name"
>The supremacist ideology of the Venatori embody everything you're saying here. The examples you're giving are all part of the supremacist mindset. Hedonistic and power-obsessed ruling class? Yep. "Slavery is bad" and "we should treat non-mages as people" Those two concepts are directly against the supremacists ideology. We also do get some notes from Dorian doing just that Veilguard. The Venatori isn't just one shade of ugly, it's the embodiment of everything wrong in Tevinter. It's the supremacist ideology given form.
Then why make such a focus on the Venatori if the entire Tevinter is built on the ideas of supremacy? Why?
By making the Venatori solo bad guys of Tevinter, the writers washed their hands off the entire corrupt system of Tevinter established in the previous games - see, guys, magisters aren't that bad and the entire Tevinter society doesn't need a wake-up call, it were the Venatori all along. The Venatori are bad, Tevinter nobles practice slavery just because they're misunderstood and confused, and I guess Danarius, Hadriana, and all the slavers from Tevinter you had met before were just the Venatori in trench coats.
The reason why Tevinter refused to acknowledge the Venatori in the Inquisition was because of their cultish obsession with Corypheus and unsubtle aggressiveness, which didn't look good for their long-term ambitions and plotting.
It would have made more sense if the Venatori either became an official ruling party by the events of Veilguard (no coup needed) because a) they didn't meet any resistance from Senate or the people of Tevinter, b) they brought proof of ancient magisters actually existing, which gave magisters a huge ego boost and added quasireligious delusions to the Tevinter's program, c) Par-Vollen officially started its invasion (like it was promised in the previous games) by attacking Antiva, giving Tevinter the opportunity to be more active and aggressive (infiltrating Antiva by offering it "protection" from the Qunari, reintegrating Kirkwall under the guise of defensive measures), preying on the neighbor's desperation and vulnerability to its influence.
But instead, they're shown as that malicious cult that is officially opposed and rejected as if Tevinter somehow had an issue with their philosophy.
>Varric is the one tasked with forming a small team. It's his responsibility to form that team and onboard people and vet them. With the way it's framed in "The Missing" Varric had full authority to bring on whoever. He didn't need approval. They kept in touch via Charter and sent correspondence to the Inquisitor but there wasn't any need for approval.
That's the problem, especially considering that the group was going against Solas with his immense abilities and his network of spies. Bringing on whoever is dangerous. There should be at least reporting to the Inquisitor about new recruits because otherwise Varric had been putting himself in a stab-me-in-the-back situation for Solas' spies all that time.
>Given Varric's line to Neve at the beginning, Varric is upfront with the information: "I also told you he was an ancient elven god." Whether the person believes them is dependent on the person. Rook has been tracking Solas with Varric for a year or so. I think by now they've witnessed enough to believe Varric's information.
Having the information doesn't mean being prepared to face Solas - a guy who has been manipulating and doing psychological warfare long before the the Veil. Also, Varric gives a very one-sided perspective on Solas because he only knows him as his former ally. The Inquisitor gets to know a lot more about Solas - after all, they're the one he rants to during his High Approval scene at the balcony, they're the one he subtly confirms his chosen course of action with, they're the one who sees him leave after the Orb is broken, and they're the one to meet him again in the Trespasser. Varric doesn't have this information, he didn't see that side of Solas, so whatever information he gives to Rook is incomplete. Rook doesn't know what they're dealing with. Moreover, Rook doesn't need to know that Solas is sentimental - Rook needs to know that Solas is very good at lying and deceiving people and that he is ruthless.
It all could have been addressed within prologue dialogues, but all we got was Rook asking "So, when we find this Solas...then what?" - which sounded as if Rook joined the group just yesterday. As a result, Rook sounds woefully unprepared.
>You think they wouldn't let that stop them. I think they're smart enough to not continue to play an active part if any information they get or send off is information Solas is spoon feeding them. If their continued involvement would cause more harm then good then yea, I think they would take a step back. I think they would hand off the reigns to others.
The problem is: who are these others? The entire "there is a real elven god walking around and he wants to destroy the Veil" story is very hard to explain to anyone who hadn't been around during the events of the Trespasser. Dismissive and derogatory attitude towards the elven culture aside, people don't respond to the "gods are among us" claims well without proof. It's not the Blight, which is super hard to ignore. It's something new - and it's so challenging to everyone's religious ideas that engaging new allies would have required some thoughtful wording and messaging.
There is a reason the guys who believed that Andraste reincarnated into a dragon were considered lunatics in the DA:O. To find others who can handle Solas (while knowing what he is and bracing themselves for a tough challenge) would take time and effort - meanwhile, both Leliana and Josephine have the burden of knowing the threat, knowing it's coming. I can't honestly imagine them sitting on their hands and hoping that the Inquisitor finds someone.
Now, there could have been a wonderful way to keep them busy and not as involved without making it look odd. For instance, if Par Vollen officially declared war and started invading Rivain and Antiva.
In that case, Josephine would be fully committed to doing whatever she can for her country, while Leliana's presence will be crucial for a) the morale and safety (if Divine), b) working against Ben-Hassrath and gathering intel (if Sister Nightingale).
>They do find new allies through their journey.
We don't see them in the game.
>They do find people who have ample knowledge of magic and ancient history.
We don't see them in the game.
>This idea also continues to play out in Veilguard. We find someone who has connections.
There is only Neve who is more of a investigative journalist/freedom fighter who never dealt with gods, ancient magic or anything like that. She herself admits that she is way over her head.
>We find someone who has ample knowledge of the fade since that's what Solas was directly trying to manipulate.
Aside from Emmrich, there is nobody else available - and Rook employs him after Varric is out of commission, leaving Rook desperate for help and clues because they have nothing. That's the issue: there are no tangible results after the 10 years of search. Rook starts from the ground zero - even though they aren't supposed to.
>I do not think it implicitly means what you've interpreted it to. I think that's how you interpreted that and I think that's a valid interpretation of it. Unfortunately that's not where they took it. That's also now how I interpreted it. I think a lot of the fandom interpreted this in different ways and that leads to disappointment if their interpretation wasn't correct. I think that's what's happening to you here. I don't think Bioware not catering to your interpretation means "they don't care." or anything like that. I think it's just that what you predicted or assumed based on the information provided ended up being incorrect. Other people predicted it correctly. If anything this just means that the marketing team could have done better at setting expectations and making sure everyone was on the same page.
From my point of view, there are things that are meant to be interpreted differently by players, and that are part of worldbuilding that isn't up for interpretation. For example, the Warden can be absolutely merciless and cruel in their decisions - and their motivations depend on the player's interpretation (trauma, anger due to oppression, refusal to be kind to the world that screwed them over, simple assholery). Similarly, the Warden can be heroic and selfless - why are they like that is still up to the player's interpretation. However, the end goal doesn't change: Kill the Archdemon. It doesn't matter how evil or how kind the Warden is as long as they get the job done. They become the Hero of Ferelden regardless.
All the threats created or hinted at were never up to interpretation. Blights are extremely dangerous. The Mage-Templar war caused massive destructive disruptions across the Andrastian regions, leaving mages and templars particularly vulnerable to exploitation. The death of the Divine led to hysteria and massive crisis of faith, while the Breach and the rise of Corypheus led to the emergence of the Venatori and red lyrium zombies. And the characters always responded accordingly to the threats -- either because of their rank and calling or due to them having exclusive understanding of the problem and needing to be in the loop.
The ending of Trespasser implied that Leliana and Cassandra were sticking around, working with Inquisitor and following the Inquisitor's decisions (and certainly taking note of how easily Solas infiltrated their networks). For them to just bow out without any explanation or reason isn't the problem of interpretation - the game didn't deliver its own buildup.
>But Bioware can't just make whatever they want. Bioware is owned by EA (not just published through them. OWNED by them). Bioware has to pay people to make the games. They need to get the funding and approval from EA to do so. This means that no matter how passionate the team is, there's only so much they can do and EA gets a huge say in what that is. EA who explicitly stated earlier AFTER BG3 released that they don't think single player story based games are worth investing in. WHICH IS INSANE TO ME. EA had them start developing the game one way. EA had them change development midway. EA had them remove all multiplayer pieces. EA cut funding to Bioware forcing them to make cuts in staff.
I admit, I don't know whether it was Bioware or EA who decided to completely dunk on the elves and their entire arc in the Veilguard, make a clown show out of Qunari, destroy Loghain as a character and erase nearly the entire Southern Thedas - and then naively hope for Dragon Age series to get the next game.
I don't know whether it was the Bioware's love ruined by the EA (which definitely played the part in it because I know how soulless and greedy management can fuck up the production) or Bioware writing it all out of spite and then releasing the artbook so people could pay $75 to see the content and the story that never happened and will never happen.
The outcome is the same: there is no reason for me to give them money. If Bioware can no longer make it's own creative choices, I will no longer buy its games because it means rewarding EA for its abhorrent practices.
There is no point in believing in Bioware anymore and support it because if this is where EA is taking it, I'd rather let my favorite series die and be put to rest than see them twisted into the parody of their former selves.
I understand your point, but IMHO, the problem of Veilguard isn't that it's not perfect - it has been actively hurt by the choices and management, which is why it's the pale shadow of what it was supposed to be.
Moreover, I don't even know what the writing team thinks because they either lump reasonable criticism together with elon musk fanboys whining, which is downright insulting or carefully pat themselves on the back for the job done. I understand that EA may have made them sign some kind of BS contract that doesn't allow them to speak ill of EA and its decisions for 100 years or so, but even refraining from comments would have sent the message.
Right now, both behaviors create an impression as it's the players fault for having expectations and wanting the proper final of their story, instead of just consuming the content.
And that's just sad.
Bioware writing team has a comfy, sheltered life and it shows
I'm sorry, but how come that the only people Inquisitor sent to look for Solas were Varric and Harding? How come that the only people recruited in 10 years of pursuing Solas were Neve and Rook? Do the writers understand that this is NOT how a serious effort looks like?
What about Leliana? Divine or not, she is still Sister Nightingale with an immense spywork. You'd think she won't mobilize everything she has to track Solas and his followers?
What about Josephine? What, she decided "nah, I'm done" and didn't use any of her diplomatic talents and connections to let the Inquisitor's agents have access, permissions or information they need?
What about Dorian? As a political figure, you'd think he will be the first Minrathous contact for the Inquisitor allies, the one arranging things and providing insights?
What about Cassandra and her Seekers? Isn't she interested in stopping another world-ending threat?
What about Sera and her sabotaging potential? If she organized the group of people for performing vigilante acts, people who are her eyes and ears, how come nobody from her group is helping with the effort?
I get it why Varric takes part in it - he knew Solas, the Inquisitor trusts him and his judgement, but for the game to imply that all the responsibility was lumped on Varric's shoulders is fucking disgraceful. I get it writers, Varric is popular character, and you would use him as bait to your heart's content, but the context you've created implies that Varric might have been the only one to take the threat seriously, while the Inquisitor and the rest were doing God knows what.
Varric should have been handing the Rook information on all the contacts they can recruit, all the useful agents, all the people to work with, not tell them to ask Neve because she might know someone because detective (Neve is a good character, but the fact that people who were supposed to spend 10 years chasing Solas look up to her for finding them contacts is appalling).
"Oh, but all these people were in the previous parts and we don't want to mention previous parts because muh new players" - well, you shot yourselves in the foot. Maybe, just maybe, you should have AT LEAST cared more about the choices made in DAI.
Congrats.
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fanficsbysteve · 14 hours ago
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Authors Note: So I was scrolling the Tumblrs a few days ago when @lazyturtlehottub put an idea out there that stuck with me a bit so I did my best to get something out there into the world. Hopefully its good. Let me know what you think.
Rating: G?
Word Count: 3033
***
                Buck sat in his seat at the LA Lakers game that Tommy had given him tickets to. Tommy had ended things a week before the tickets were for so naturally Buck was at the game alone. He had planned to go with Tommy, so he had someone who actually understood basketball with him. He had requested the day off work so he could go and Bobby had given it to him. Unfortunately nobody else could get the day off so Buck sat in his seat, an empty seat right next to him.
                Out of depression, and he had run out of flour to bake something to distract him, Buck had made a sign that sat folded nicely on the seat next to him. If any kind of camera came on him, he was going to be petty and reveal the sign. And he had every right to be petty after what happened. It was so out of the blue. So Buck sat in his seat and just waited. He barely watched the game cause he didn’t have any interest in Basketball. He had never told Tommy this during their 6 months together. Why would he? He had literally tried desperately to get into this pick-up game that Eddie, Tommy, Chim, and a few others played so that he could get close to Tommy. Sure he hadn’t gone again since that one time. He had gotten Tommy’s attention. Plus I think after maiming Eddie, nobody expected him to go again. So he never had to explain how he really didn’t like Basketball.
                The game slowly went along. One team having the ball, then the other one did, then they threw it in a hoop, rinse, repeat. Buck honestly never understood why anyone would actually care about this sport. It was so boring. Give him a hockey game. Now that was something to watch. Particularly when the gloves came off.
                Slowly the game kept going and Buck was worried that he wouldn’t get a chance at the pettiness he had planned for the game. Then the break in the middle of the game came. Sighing, Buck was bored and was pretty sure that nothing was going to happen when something called a Kiss Cam came up on the video screen in the middle. It started panning around to all the various seats, stopping on what would appear to be couples and they would kiss or make ‘no’ motions if they weren’t together. Then it happened. The camera came and stopped on Buck and the person sitting next to him. The person looked at Buck and started making the No motions.
                Buck took this opportunity, like the petty individual he was turning into, and pulled out his homemade sign. It was on bright yellow paper with black letters. The sign read, “My Boyfriend broke up with me a week before this game so now I’m here alone, and I don’t really like Basketball that much.”
                A chorus of Boo’s started to ring out around the Arena. Not sure if it was because of the sign or because of him, but Buck didn’t care. He got his pettiness out. Folding up the sign he sat back down.
Then it started. His phone started to buzz but he was going to ignore it.  He was at a basketball game and even if he wasn’t having fun or enjoying it, he wasn’t going to be one of those people who spend the whole thing on their phone. The buzzing would not stop. This was going to get annoying. The game hadn’t started back up again so Buck excused himself past the people sitting between himself and the aisle out. He better get this phone stuff dealt with. Might as well just go home if he wasn’t enjoying himself.
He got into the lobby area and pulled his phone out. He was getting bombarded with text messages from Eddie, Hen, Chim, Maddie, basically everyone at the Firehouse. Apparently they had been watching the game during their off time and it just to happens that nothing was going on when he was on camera. So everyone saw it. There were also messages and calls from Tommy but Buck was ignoring those right now. He couldn’t be bothered to message him before so he was going to make him wait.
He started with the Maddie messages. She was his sister after all.
MH: What did you just do? On National Television?
EB: I don’t know what you mean. I just held up a sign.
MH: You just threw Tommy to the wolves.
EB: Nobody who watches this will know who is being talked about. And anyone who does will not care enough to know.
MH: Don’t count on it. You weren’t super secretive about your relationship so lots of people know.
EB: Well we will just have to wait and see won’t we.
Closing down the text thread with Maddie, he went to Eddie, the next most important person in his life right now. It would have been Tommy but that ship sailed a week ago.
ED: That was brave.
BB: I was out of flour. And I was hurting so I decided to channel it.
ED: I wouldn’t want to be Tommy right now.
BB: Why not?”
Eddie sent over a screenshot of what looked like X or another social media site. Buck wasn’t super big on them. It showed a trending tag #LonelyLakersLad and #LakersBFBreakup and several other variants. Some of them had a lot of traction.
ED: You are going viral.
BB: Nobody who knows me would do anything like that.
ED: So you are telling me that you are 100% certain that you never hurt anyone the way you were hurt.
BB: I’ve broken up with everyone amicably as far as I am aware.
ED: And you’ve never kept in touch to see how they are feeling after things?
Buck stopped to think for a second. As far as he was aware he was fine with all his ex-girlfriends. They weren’t in touch anymore, friendship falling off the wayside, but honestly why would they do anything?
ED: Just saying. You might want to contact the recipient of your pettiness. He has been blowing up our phones here.
Buck sighed. Closed the Eddie chat and opened the one labeled Thomas. He hadn’t wanted to keep it the same as it was before the breakup. It hurt too much.
There it was, a lengthy string of texts from Tommy. Words weren’t the greatest thing you could convey emotion through. It was always up to the person reading to get the emotion you were putting into it and more times than not, it was always conveyed wrong.
TK: What the hell was that?
TK: I told you to take Eddie with you to that.
TK: And what do you mean you don’t even like Basketball? You literally forced your way into a game with me and Eddie and Chim.
TK: I know I hurt you. But that was next level pettiness.
TK: We need to talk.
TK: Please answer your phone.
TK: I’ve tried calling you a dozen times. Please just answer.
Buck knew that Tommy had called at least that many times during while he was just messaging his family and friends.
TK: I’m not mad. I swear it. I just want to talk. With words from my mouth instead of my fingers. That way its not misinterpreted.
TK: Please just answer and let me talk to you. Then I won’t bother you ever again.
Buck tapped the name Thomas, pulling up his contact details, and tapped the Call button. At least he could get this over with quickly. Maybe Trader Joes was still open so he could get more baking supplies on his way.
The phone didn’t even get to finish a single ring before Tommy answered, “Evan!”
“You said you wanted to talk Thomas,” Buck replied. He couldn’t stop the smile that came over his face when he heard Tommy call him Evan though. He also knew that Tommy was wincing on the other end at the Thomas.
“What was that all about? I was watching the game at home and I remember saying you could take Eddie and why were you there alone? And what was that sign for?” Tommy rambled. Buck just let him ramble a bunch. A thousand more questions came out of his mouth through the phone.
“If you would let me get a word in I can easily explain everything,” Buck interrupted. Tommy stopped talking for the time being so Buck took that as his time to get his side of things out, “You had just broken my heart. I was feeling petty because I had nothing else to distract me from calling or messaging you. I had spent too many days crying over you so I went to the next extreme. It was probably a little overboard but I was feeling my emotions and channeling them into something different. I didn’t want to turn back into the Buck that slept around to deal with his hurt.”
“I’m sorry,” Tommy said, “God this isn’t great on the phone.”
“Well you were the one who wanted me to call you,” Buck replied, “I was perfectly happy just texting.”
“Were you though?” Tommy’s voice was getting a little catty at this point, “I don’t think perfectly happy people do the stunt you just pulled.”
“Well I WAS perfectly happy,” Buck was just as catty in return, “Until you ended things out of the blue, no real reason except some bullshit about not being your last.”
Buck could feel the guilt through the phone at this point, “Meet  me at Fleur Café. That’s close to the arena. We clearly have to talk in person.”
“Fine by me,” Buck replied. His heart started to flutter a bit cause he did want to see Tommy again, “I know you don’t live near here so I’ll get you a coffee for when you arrive.”
“I’ll be there in about 45 minutes,” Tommy replied, his voice was shaking a bit, “depending on traffic.”
Buck let Tommy end the call and then he quickly pulled up the map on his phone to get there.
***
Buck had gotten to the café after 10 minutes of walking so he waited outside for about 20 minutes. He was mildly curious about the X trend that was happening so he downloaded the X app and signed into the account he made about a decade earlier. “@ranchmanbuck” was the username he had created. He was living in Montana at the time and working on a ranch. It didn’t last long. He also only had maybe 3 posts on his account.
It took him a bit to get signed in but eventually he did and #LonelyLakersLad was still trending. Even the official account of the LA Lakers had posted about it. Seems that everyone online was either trying to find out who he was, telling him that they would date him, telling him that it will get better in the end. There was a few that were insane and threatening harm on the person who hurt him. Seeing threats of death towards Tommy by people who didn’t know him was disturbing so Buck closed that app and swore to never open it again. People online were insane.
Stepping into the café, Buck was greeted by the smell of fresh coffee and baked goods. He had grown to love the smell of baked goods since Tommy broke things off with him. It was soothing and calming. He smelled lemon loaf, and cinnamon rolls, and some savoury cheese buns. He just breathed in and then head to the counter to order, “Good evening,” Buck was always courteous to the staff anywhere, “Can I get two coffees, one black, and one two cream, one sweetener,” He looked at the baked goods. He had so much at home but he wanted something sweet right now, “And two pieces of that lemon loaf, and a cinnamon roll.”
Buck paid for his purchases and went to a table near the window to wait. He started to slowly pick apart the lemon loaf he had gotten for himself and slowly ate it, sipping on his coffee at the same time. After about 10 minutes of waiting, Tommy walked into the coffee shop. He looked around and spotted Buck. He quickly came over and sat down, “Hey,” He said.
“I got you a coffee,” Buck pushed the coffee his way, “And some lemon loaf.”
“Thanks,” Tommy took the coffee and took a sip, “You finally figured out how I like my coffee.”
“We were together for 6 months Tommy,” Buck replied, “If I didn’t at least learn your coffee order then I would have been the worst boyfriend ever.”
“OK so we need to talk,” Tommy replied, “But first I just want to let you know how sorry I am for how things went down.”
“Why did you not come back after?” Buck asked, “You just left me there. I figured maybe it was a fight that we could work through but you didn’t come back.”
“I was scared,” Tommy had his head down, “You idealized me. You didn’t see me or the things that were wrong with me. Just the good. You don’t know how it was growing up and just being abandoned by the one person who loved me, leaving me with my father. Or the first man I ever fell in love with leaving me because he decided someone else was better than me.”
“You never told me any of this,” Buck replied, “You kept your walls up and never fully let me in. I only know what you showed me. And,” Buck trailed off. Well he had him in front of him so it was now or never, “And what you showed me made me fall in love with you.”
Buck watched as Tommy’s face snapped up at those words. Buck had been meaning to say those words to him for awhile now. Since the day at the cemetery at least when him and Tommy had a funeral so that Billy Boils would lift the curse. And he did. But just having Tommy there with him made him realize that Tommy was all he needed in life from now on, “You never said that,” Tommy said.
“I mean it though,” Buck replied, “I might be brand new to this whole loving men thing. But I know what love feels like and I know what I feel for you. I realize that I may have jumped ahead a couple steps. Eddie tells me I’m an idiot all the time. And maybe I am. But I’m an idiot that loves you, Tommy.”
Tommy fiddled with his cup, “I’m just scared that you will get bored of me and leave me like everyone else.”
Buck reached across and grabbed Tommy’s hand, “I need you to learn to trust me. I won’t leave you. You are everything I’ve felt I was missing in my life. From the very first mouth static, something about you made me feel complete. And this past week has made me feel worse, like a part of me was missing. And I don’t like how that feels and I don’t want to feel it anymore.”
Tommy looked ashamed, “I love you as well. And there has been an Evan sized hole in my life that I cannot manage to fill,” Buck watched as Tommy looked up, his face setting, “Fuck it. If my heart gets broken, it gets broken,” He whispered to himself, “Evan Buckley, I know I don’t deserve it after what I did to you, but would you be willing to give me a second chance? I’m also an idiot who is in love with you and I might not deserve it but please?” Tommy’s eyes bore into Buck with intensity. This man meant every word of it.
Buck stood up, grabbed Tommy’s face and brought him into a kiss. The kiss lasted longer than either had planned but Buck was not letting go. He wasn’t certain of it but he thought he may have heard the shutter of a camera on someone’s phone. Maybe someone taking some pictures of their food. They did that a lot. As the kiss came to an end, a single thread of saliva between them, Buck sat down again, “We need to communicate better,” Buck said, “Since we want to try again, I ask that if you have problems, or if I’m jumping ahead or saying something idiotic, that you please just talk to me. We can work through these problems.”
“I can’t promise I won’t get scared again,” Tommy said, “I’ve got more trauma than you can possibly imagine. I’m not the ideal gay that you seem to have thought I am. But I can promise that if things get bad for me, I’ll do everything I can to talk.”
Buck smiled, “That’s all I want. I want to know all of you. Scars and all if you’ll let me,” Buck smiled, “Now help me eat this Cinnamon bun.”
***
6 months later, Buck sat with Tommy at another Lakers game. A repeat of the 6 month anniversary. Tommy had originally wanted to do something that Buck would enjoy, but Buck shut that down, “I enjoy being with you and seeing you happy and if it means going to Basketball games then I want to go. Just means in the winter you’ll have to get better at enjoy the LA Kings games.”
“Deal,” Tommy said. So they were in their seats at the arena. It was halftime as Tommy called it. The camera was panning around the stands looking for couples to make kiss. When it landed on Buck and Tommy. Smiling, Buck pulled Tommy into a kiss, as the kiss broke, he held up another sign just for this occasion, ‘We worked things out, so please don’t make me go viral again. #NotSoLonelyLakersLad’.  Buck smiled and kept staring at Tommy. The crowd was cheering in the arena for them. Just staring into the eyes of the man he loved.
***
Authors Note: Well that's it. I hope anyone who reads this likes it. Feel free to suggest any titles as I have no idea what to call this. If you have any notes for how I could improve, please be kind about it.
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ayebibs · 1 day ago
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What would have made the Veilguard companions more compelling?
I keep wracking my brain trying to determine how the marketing of this game was so focused on the companions, their rich lives outside of the narrative, and the journeys that they go on when I think that they are objectively the worst written companions to date. Not to say that their appearances aren’t well designed or that they don’t have really fun and cute moments, but they are simply less three-dimensional than previous companions. Fundamentally, my biggest grievance with the Veilguard companions is that I just don’t find any of them nuanced or interesting. They are all good people, but they are not good or believable characters that fit this plot and interact with it in meaningful ways.
I have never been one of those people that ignore canon, but I have been perseverating on the missed potential of this highly anticipated game that we’ve waited ten years for. So, I wanted to criticize some of these characters and explore some changes that might’ve made for a more compelling group of characters had they been written differently, but (hopefully) respecting the vision of who the characters are at their core because I do think that the skeleton of something great is here.
Disclaimer because this is long and critical: There are a lot of spoilers below. I haven’t read all of the Dragon Age books and I could be missing things, but I also think that the game and the characters’ journeys should speak for themselves as we go through the story. I also get that these are just my opinions, I’m a STEM girlie by trade and a creative on the side! Not everything I suggest may be great or realistic for building a plot or realistic for writing the script of a videogame. I also don’t mind conversations about these characters! I think that would be fun, I just don’t want to be shat on for being very disappointed in this game when it’s been my favorite video game series for half my life and I went in very hyped and willing to excuse a lot!
Alright, if you’re still with me, buckle up!
First, before I outline the specific changes I would make to each character, I want to address that there are just flaws with the way BioWare decided to handle companions as a whole in this game. I want to mention them now because they impact nearly every character and I don’t become repetitive:
1. Most importantly, the approval system is pointless and probably could be left out of this game for all it means to the narrative. It is nearly impossible to wrack up disapproval for the companions and you increase approval and bond by just taking companions out and completing a quest. If the companions like nearly everything that Rook does, then it means that they don’t care enough about anything to have strong rigid opinions (which is good for a well-written character). If companions don’t have an opportunity for meaningful agreements or disagreements, it means that the writing is not what people expect of a Dragon Age game based on every single installment we’ve had so far. It is one of the few things that have stayed the same in all of the past games and one of the things that I think fans are really upset about and should have been nonnegotiable.
2. All of the factions (except for maybe the Grey Wardens) really just needed to be messier and more complicated. Not all of the factions were meant to be heroic throughout the series. As others have commented, the Lords of Fortune and the Antivan Crows are the most glaring examples of this. However, I think that the Mournwatch and Veiljumpers are not exempt from this either. The factions serve as crucial parts of our companion’s backstory and by sanitizing them, we are wiping key opportunities for character development. For example, it could be way more interesting to have a character who fundamentally disagrees with their faction, but doesn’t know how to escape it. Or, what about a character who loves their faction and makes us feel conflicted about them because of their willingness to explain away the faction’s history? I could write (another) essay on this, so I’ll leave this point here.
3. We simply needed to have more conversations with all of the companions. All we have are these short, uninteresting cutscenes to learn about the companions. The player should be able to go up to the companions and ask them about the history of their faction, who they trust and care about in their faction (and why), their past, and their opinions about new information (on other companions, side quests, and plot points). None of these even need a cutscene, just voice acting. It would also help players feel more connected to the companions.
4. There needed to be more visible personal and interpersonal conflict. The companions read like coworkers to me. They mostly like each other and, even if they do have disagreements, they are never explored in the narrative. They don’t seem to have any hugely conflicting viewpoints on any topic and, even if they do, they are benign. For example, what to pack for a camping trip or not wanting to talk about a particular topic (dragons vs. spirits) can be interesting in addition to more complex banter but the banter just feels inappropriate and irrelevant for the plot of this game. Overall, the companions rarely make a fit about anything. It feels like the writers didn’t want any character to appear problematic, but they made them flat because none of them seem to have a hill to die on except that they should save the world. This might have been fine in a game series that didn’t focus so heavily on companions and the way that ethics are shaped by personal experience, but this is not that imaginary game series.
5. The companion quests should have focused more on worldbuilding and getting to know the characters. I have little to say about this other than that the quests for Harding to try out her powers, training Assan with Davrin, shopping with Lucanis, and lighting candles with Emmrich, etc. were lazy, uncreative filler. I really cannot put it any other way. They should have all had quests that better explored their faction and, by extension, them. We barely learn anything in those quests and they are time wasters. Those are the scenes that should have been converted to a codex entry, not some of the important lore drops that we currently have in the codex.
6. Rook chooses one option of a binary for every companion towards the end of their personal quests. I’m okay with some of these, I think that it made sense for Bellara and Davrin to ask Rook what to do in their personal quests because it felt more natural. A friend asking a friend for their input. On the other hand, some of these are really inconsequential, semantic, and mindset related (Neve) and others are such personal choices that it feels inappropriate for Rook to be involved (Emmrich and Lucanis). In a lot of these cases, it would have made more sense to have dialogue options sprinkled throughout the game that influenced companions to make their ultimate choices. Giving Rook so much power in these decisions makes the companions feel one-dimensional because it strips them of agency that any believable character would want. Even if they wanted Rook to make these decisions, companions should have felt more strongly towards the options and either praised or disparaged Rook for their decision.
7. Finally, I found all of the romances very lackluster. I was never someone who considered Dragon Age games glorified dating sims (I actually really don’t like that take, even if it's all jokes), but I found myself missing the depth of relationships in previous games. All the relationships felt too new and shallow. Largely, I think this is due to points 3 and 4, but also due to a lack of reactivity with your companions. For example, companions barely acknowledge you getting them a gift or flirting. This could have also been helped by a few extra cutscenes with the companions.
That mostly covers the overarching issues that apply to all characters. Some of these things might come back in my individual discussions of the characters if it is particularly bad.
If you’re still with me, here are my thoughts on each companion and/or what I think would have made them more interesting:
Bellara
I came to like Bellara much more than I anticipated from the trailers and marketing. However, she is really emblematic of how the writers didn’t want problematic characters. There is nothing in the game that would cause people to accuse her of being problematic, but despite being an elf (a historically oppressed and enslaved group), she is so quick to apologize for the actions of ancient elves who oppressed her ancestors thousands of years ago which is ridiculous and solves nothing. It also really seems like the writers wanted her flaw or quirkiness to be some kind of neurodivergence and nerdiness and that alone doesn’t make a compelling character. I actually think it would be interesting if Bellara was, if not pro-Solas, pro-hearing him out because his intentions were in the interest of the elven people even though he made some shitty decisions. I think she would want to be interested in what Solas knew about the ancient elves and what their society looked like before the Veil. I think she’d want to know as much as she could about the technology. I think it would be interesting if she guiltily admitted to wondering what the world would look like if the Veil came down. How different would it really be to what they’re already experiencing? Could they not mitigate the problems? I think this would be an excellent point of tension between Bellara and Davrin (who is Dalish but might not understand her curiosity in the face of the blight) or Harding (whose people were so impacted by Solas and Mythal’s actions… more on Harding later).
Davrin
Davrin is actually my favorite companions in this game, but I still wanted more from him. I think it would be really interesting if, when the team is gathered around after Weisshaupt that Davrin really pushed back against the idea of sorting out their personal shit before progressing. He’s a grey warden who, in his estimation, just failed his one purpose. I think that this would cause a bit of tension between him and some other characters, like maybe Taash whose concerns are more personal than anyone else's at the time. He is serious and straightforward, so I don’t think it’d be out of character and it would make their friendship and training montage more satisfying later on if they had to move on from it. I would also expand on the fact that he was disappointed to not die when he killed one of the archdemons? It was touched on so briefly and he seems to emotionally resolve it in a few dialogue lines which I think is crazy, even considering that he wants to live to save the griffons and raise Assan. A “blow up” about how the team needs to put their personal affairs aside while struggling to keep his own personal affairs together would introduce a little more depth to his plot line and expand on one of the more interesting things about him that we barely got any time with.
Harding
Harding was one of the most boring characters to me in this game because she felt so flat and there were so many ways to make her more interesting. Her character isn’t helped by the Varric twist because the narrative requires that she doesn’t grieve except for one scene despite knowing Varric for at least a decade. Personally, I think that changing her reaction if/when she finds out what Solas and Mythal did to the Titans and her people would make her more well-rounded and believable. From that point on, Harding should be anti-Solas and you should lose approval with her every time you entertain the idea of trusting him. Maybe she could even express disappointment/frustration/sadness for an Inquisitor who believes Solas can be saved or speak of them more highly if they think that he is irredeemable. Also, we should’ve spent more time with her and the dwarven people. I think Veilguard was such a rushed and half-baked attempt at wrapping up that storyline. We learned so much about the dwarves in the last two games and we get to spend so little time with them.
Taash
Interestingly, I think Taash is one of the few companions with really obvious flaws. They are childish and impatient, but they’re poorly written and their flaws are never acknowledged or treated as flaws by the narrative. In my playthrough, their relationship with Harding might have been an interesting place to explore and address that childishness. It was also a missed opportunity for them to explore Qunari and Rivaini culture. As other people have commented, the binary choice between being Rivaini or Qunari is odd in tandem with Taash’s journey of self-discovery and identity. I think that choice shouldn’t exist and should be encouraged by dialogue options peppered throughout their larger quest. We were so close to exploring the rift that can form in families between first generation children and immigrant parents (and learning more about Rivain and the Qun by extension) when there is love but a fundamental difference in culture and lived experience. Instead, I feel like the narrative never gave us a chance to really hear Shathann out before her death, but I’ll give the writers a break because I think that they were going for tragedy and unresolved conflict and I don't know if I trust them to make that a conversation that fits the world and isn't anachronistic.
Emmrich
The thing that bothered me most about the Emmrich storyline was the final choice between Emmrich becoming a lich and bringing back Manfred. This is another choice that Rook should have influenced rather than choose outright. The number of times that you asked probing questions or commented on Emmrich’s desire to become a lich through more conversations about Emmrich’s fear of death and relationship with Manfred should have determined his final decision. Personally, it felt inappropriate for Rook to make that decision directly for him, no matter how much the game tried to justify it. I would have also liked to see his fear of death impact him more throughout his quest line and the narrative. The final quests are literally a suicide mission and he should have had more dialogue regarding it.
Neve
I’m going to admit that Neve was hardened in my playthrough and I haven’t explored her character in playthroughs where you save Dock Town, so this section might not be applicable to half of you. I didn’t understand a lot of Neve’s motivation behind her actions. I didn’t understand why she felt so passionately about her city or her jobs. Her drive felt hollow to me, making her personal quests feel generic. When I got to Neve’s quest where we gathered clues near the water in Dock Town, I was excited to finally learn anything about her, but it was devoid of any meaningful backstory. I would have written the quest to better explore Neve’s past, motivations, and personal relationships. The other big thing that stands out is that Neve is a noir detective and the VA has clearly gotten direction to sound like one, but her story is so devoid of mystery, intrigue, and many of themes that would make that more than aesthetic. And, like, isn’t her whole faction about freeing slaves? Why not make her personal quest more closely tied to that?
Lucanis
Lucanis’ personal quests are so tied to the dynamics of his faction, so I think a lot could have been solved by making the Crows more morally grey. I think Teia and Viago could have stayed the same, but we should have seen more negative interactions between him and the rest of the Crows. Outside of Illario, Catarina would have been an exceptional vessel to explore the problems within the Crows and a theme like generational trauma or exploitation. The party banter between him and Davrin criticizing each other's factions could have been an excellent space to talk about the negative aspects of the Crows and how Lucanis’ feels about them, either defend some misdeeds or express how he feels conflicted about his past contracts. In my game (when you save Treviso), Spite also felt more like a mildly important accessory in Lucanis’ plot than a significant problem. Few characters had anything significant to say about Spite and he caused few problems. I actually thought Spite was fun for most of the game, but he needed to be more problematic because he gave the impression that he was included more to build an aesthetic for Lucanis than a character-defining plot point. Finally, I think Rook deciding what to do with Illario was a poor decision. I would have written this as a decision Lucanis makes on his own based on how Rook encourages him to deal with Spite through a more fleshed out character arc.
This pretty much summarizes my thoughts on all of the companions. As you can tell, I am very Normal about this game.
I wanted to like these characters so much and they have an unbelievable amount of potential. They are all so fascinating in concept and all of them are poorly executed either due to the relationship building mechanics of the game, because of the writing and dialogue, or a mixture of both. That said, there are brief moments when I like them and I get glimpses of what they could’ve been.
I just hope the characters are better explored in future games (if we get one).
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nysus-temple · 2 years ago
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ULTRAKILL's Greek Folklore references (2)
Aaaye remember this post? Let's say Sisyphus already came out as a boss and I have quite a bunch of stuff to talk about. I'll focus only on him since everything else was covered in the previous essay.
Just like in the previous essay, BEFORE YOU GO DOWN this is, to no one's surprise, filled with spoilers. While it's true that lore in this game is secondary, if you wanna learn it by yourself when playing it, then save this reading for later. ULTRAKILL is avaible at Steam, it's filled with blood, but it's still a masterpiece, me thinks.
· Small Introduction:
There's many people out there who have already talked about everything that reminds them of the Divine Comedy regarding the game, besides the fact that it takes inspiration in DMC too; but almost no one seems to notice the details that reference Greek folklore, and it's true that they are not THAT important, most likely i'm just imagining references in places where there are actually none, but this is what brainrot does to a girl who- well, is a classical philology student lmao. So wether they are true or not, i'll still will write this thing down or else i'll explode with my thoughts.
· ULTRAKILL's King Sisyphus:
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"King Sisyphus has acted in secret until now, amassing an army whose strength and numbers swell, but now there is no need to hide anymore. We have lived in the shadow of Heaven long enough to forget the taste of fear. Now the Sisyphean Insurrectionists prepare for war.
❝ I have heard of Minos beginning a peaceful revolution, but our King Sisyphus knows such pacificity will gain no favor from our cruel captors. He knows that one can only fight power with power, and he shall lead us to freedom.❞
^ Text from a book found in the second level of the Greed Layer.
If you remember Minos' lore, Minos instead decided to do a peaceful revolution, building his own shenanigans in the Lust Layer, but Sisyphus didn't think the same way; he decided to do a revolution too, but it was anything but peaceful.
❝ The Sisyphean Insurrectionists were an army of Husks gathered and trained by King Sisyphus for overthrowing Heaven's control of Hell, freeing the sinners from their eternal torment. […]
Upon the establishment of the Council and subsequent return of peace to Heaven, Gabriel and an army of angels were sent down to crush the insurrection and subjugate Sisyphus' army.
Although their battle was well-fought, the inexperienced Insurrectionist could not match the educated strategy of the angels, who quickly descended upon King Sisyphus with great force, eventually overpowering and killing him, leaving the Insurrectionists without a chain of command.
Left scattered and disoriented, the warriors were easily picked off one by one, their bodies cut apart, leaving behind only the bare essentials to carry on their eternal punishment of hauling heavy boulders up the monuments of mankind's arrogance and greed.
Although the blood of their enemies still stains their bodies and their grasp still clutches their fallen foes, their will and fierce fury only serve as mental torment in knowing how close they were to freedom.❞
^ Terminal data of the Sisyphean Insurrectionists in the game
The Insurrectionists mantain Greek Sisyphus' original punishment, carrying a rock up to the top of a mountain ( n the game, a pyramid) that will eventually fall down again.
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(Greek amphora of Sisyphus pushing the rock in the Underworld, meanwhile, Persephone watches over him, making sure that he does not try to avoid his punishment. [Yes the dick is out.])
Now, more interesting details… Greek King Sisyphus wasn't that much liked by the gods since he, wellp, cheated death a couple times and... Screwed up a lot of times too. For context:
(Apollodorus - Bibliotheca) He murdered his guests, which was seen as extremelly horrible since one of the main important things in Ancient Greece was hospitality. And a king who murders his guests isn't that good of a host.
They sent Death (Θάνατος [Thanatos]) to catch him for this main reason. But Sisyphus tricked him and captured him. And since Death being captured meant no people dying, Ares then went to go and stop Sisyphus.
Knowing he was gonna be killed, Sisyphus asked his wife to not give his corpse a proper funeral, and instead to throw him away. After this, he lied to the gods and manipulated them, telling either Persephone or Hades (or both) that his wife disrespected him by not giving him a proper funeral, and they allowed his soul to go back to his corpse.
After Sisyphus had died of old age, is when his punishment starts. He commited so many crimes and yet, the way he felt was never spoken. Even blind and old in the Underworld, he would continue his punishment.
Greek Sisyphus was thrown into the Underworld with a punishment and Greek Minos was turned into a Judge of the Underworld; in this game, Minos' corpse is still used as some kind of Judge… More or else, as I said before. Meanwhile, Sisyphus corpse isn't used at all, it is just imprisoned, with no head, even. Perhaps that has something to do with the Greek Sisyphus being punished instead of turning into a Judge of Hell, or similar, like the Greek Minos was?
Oh, by the way, unlike Minos being blind being due to him being a Judge and Justice is blind; Sisyphus was blinded by greed, so he literally is blinded by gold. Just like how the Greek Minos was a Judge as well, and Greek Sisyphus was a greedy king who killed guests in his palace in order to get their goods, a violation of guest-obligations in Ancient Greece.
❝ To him, fighting an impossible battle with full knowledge of its futility and taking joy in just the act of resistance itself is the ultimate rebellion against the oppressor. ❞
^ Terminal data of Sisyphus' Prime in the game.
"Ah… So concludes the life and times, of King Sisyphus. A fitting end, to an existence defined by futile struggle. Doomed, from the very start. And I don't regret a SECOND of it!" — Sisyphus Prime final lines after being defeated by the player.
Both Greek Sisyphus and ULTRAKILL's Sisyphus are cunning, in Homer's Iliad he's described as the most cunning of the greeks, before Odysseus takes that title. (And, fun fact, Odysseus is considered Sisyphus' son by many tragedy authors! If you remember my other ULTRAKILL essay, you'll remember how I considered the Wrath layer to be an Odyssey reference). In the Odyssey, Sisyphus' punishment is described, but we don't exactly know how he feels. Does he feel regret? Does he not? We can suppose that he does, since that punishment is... Yeah, tiring. But those are just assumptions, so, who knows, perhaps he does not regret anything, just like ULTRAKILL's Sisyphus.
It's true that ULTRAKILL's Sisyphus is most likely based on later-on depictions of the myth, philosophical interpretations and such, but that's not my job, I just ramble.
In any case, Greek Sisyphus even tricked the divine, and ULTRAKILL's Sisyphus fought the divine.
In the end, we can't see none of the two Sisyphus' faces during their punishment, and yet... ❝ One must imagine Sisyphus happy.❞
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pandaemoanium · 10 months ago
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thank you old gamefaqs walkthroughs i love you old gamefaqs walkthroughs
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astrxealis · 2 years ago
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sorry (not really) guys if you see me return to my obsessed w final fantasy (all), ivalice ffxiv voicelines, bloodborne era rn
#⋯ ꒰ა starry thoughts ໒꒱ *·˚#i'm such a NERD !!!!!#i know a lot but i still need to know MORE.#but ya ivalice voicelines... <333#tbh ivalice as a whole i am SO interested in. not just bcs of ffxiv or ff#the stuff between ramza and delita yes?#iirc. ivalice in ff is like the worlds of tactics + ffxii !! i might actually be wrong but i've been sure about this for years LOL ??#so yeah. REAAAALLY intrigued about both tactics and xii. xiv gets a lot of refs from xii#so i'm aware of the scions of light and the scions of darkness a lot and i find the correlations w the ascians super interesting#and yes. the fact that Emet-Selch is the Angel of Truth makes me very very very sad. it's so good :((#bloodborne on the other hand okay i may have not properly played much. i always chicken out#but a lot of the times i did try it out wanting to get far are really bcs of ludwig and lady maria#other themes i was in lov w too but mostly ^^ but now i reaaally want to more now bcs The First Hunter !!! and other songs too <3#also bcs i'm older and hopefully less cowardly... (if you must know. okay i'm literally srsly a coward w scary stuff in games#as in ffxv daemons terrified me for the longest time until a while into act 2? and automata. a simple cave made me so scared <//3)#speaking of cave i miss ac odyssey... i want to play that more sometime! very fun game. i havent even got to do sailing or shit yet tbh#yea. so tjat's that. and on ff as a whole i am always so in lov w ff but ever since fulgur talked abt it more aaaaaa#I SHOULD ASK MY TITA FOR. ff8 soon... says me but i shld finish x and ix SOBBING. she also has xii so WAHHHHH#but time to eat now <3
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archaeren · 5 months ago
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How I learned to write smarter, not harder
(aka, how to write when you're hella ADHD lol)
A reader commented on my current long fic asking how I write so well. I replied with an essay of my honestly pretty non-standard writing advice (that they probably didn't actually want lol) Now I'm gonna share it with you guys and hopefully there's a few of you out there who will benefit from my past mistakes and find some useful advice in here. XD Since I started doing this stuff, which are all pretty easy changes to absorb into your process if you want to try them, I now almost never get writer's block.
The text of the original reply is indented, and I've added some additional commentary to expand upon and clarify some of the concepts.
As for writing well, I usually attribute it to the fact that I spent roughly four years in my late teens/early 20s writing text roleplay with a friend for hours every single day. Aside from the constant practice that provided, having a live audience immediately reacting to everything I wrote made me think a lot about how to make as many sentences as possible have maximum impact so that I could get that kind of fun reaction. (Which is another reason why comments like yours are so valuable to fanfic writers! <3) The other factors that have improved my writing are thus: 1. Writing nonlinearly. I used to write a whole story in order, from the first sentence onward. If there was a part I was excited to write, I slogged through everything to get there, thinking that it would be my reward once I finished everything that led up to that. It never worked. XD It was miserable. By the time I got to the part I wanted to write, I had beaten the scene to death in my head imagining all the ways I could write it, and it a) no longer interested me and b) could not live up to my expectations because I couldn't remember all my ideas I'd had for writing it. The scene came out mediocre and so did everything leading up to it. Since then, I learned through working on VN writing (I co-own a game studio and we have some visual novels that I write for) that I don't have to write linearly. If I'm inspired to write a scene, I just write it immediately. It usually comes out pretty good even in a first draft! But then I also have it for if I get more ideas for that scene later, and I can just edit them in. The scenes come out MUCH stronger because of this. And you know what else I discovered? Those scenes I slogged through before weren't scenes I had no inspiration for, I just didn't have any inspiration for them in that moment! I can't tell you how many times there was a scene I had no interest in writing, and then a week later I'd get struck by the perfect inspiration for it! Those are scenes I would have done a very mediocre job on, and now they can be some of the most powerful scenes because I gave them time to marinate. Inspiration isn't always linear, so writing doesn't have to be either!
Some people are the type that joyfully write linearly. I have a friend like this--she picks up the characters and just continues playing out the next scene. Her story progresses through the entire day-by-day lives of the characters; it never timeskips more than a few hours. She started writing and posting just eight months ago, she's about an eighth of the way through her planned fic timeline, and the content she has so far posted to AO3 for it is already 450,000 words long. But most of us are normal humans. We're not, for the most part, wired to create linearly. We consume linearly, we experience linearly, so we assume we must also create linearly. But actually, a lot of us really suffer from trying to force ourselves to create this way, and we might not even realize it. If you're the kind of person who thinks you need to carrot-on-a-stick yourself into writing by saving the fun part for when you finally write everything that happens before it: Stop. You're probably not a linear writer. You're making yourself suffer for no reason and your writing is probably suffering for it. At least give nonlinear writing a try before you assume you can't write if you're not baiting or forcing yourself into it!! Remember: Writing is fun. You do this because it's fun, because it's your hobby. If you're miserable 80% of the time you're doing it, you're probably doing it wrong!
2. Rereading my own work. I used to hate reading my own work. I wouldn't even edit it usually. I would write it and slap it online and try not to look at it again. XD Writing nonlinearly forced me to start rereading because I needed to make sure scenes connected together naturally and it also made it easier to get into the headspace of the story to keep writing and fill in the blanks and get new inspiration. Doing this built the editing process into my writing process--I would read a scene to get back in the headspace, dislike what I had written, and just clean it up on the fly. I still never ever sit down to 'edit' my work. I just reread it to prep for writing and it ends up editing itself. Many many scenes in this fic I have read probably a dozen times or more! (And now, I can actually reread my own work for enjoyment!) Another thing I found from doing this that it became easy to see patterns and themes in my work and strengthen them. Foreshadowing became easy. Setting up for jokes or plot points became easy. I didn't have to plan out my story in advance or write an outline, because the scenes themselves because a sort of living outline on their own. (Yes, despite all the foreshadowing and recurring thematic elements and secret hidden meanings sprinkled throughout this story, it actually never had an outline or a plan for any of that. It's all a natural byproduct of writing nonlinearly and rereading.)
Unpopular writing opinion time: You don't need to make a detailed outline.
Some people thrive on having an outline and planning out every detail before they sit down to write. But I know for a lot of us, we don't know how to write an outline or how to use it once we've written it. The idea of making one is daunting, and the advice that it's the only way to write or beat writer's block is demoralizing. So let me explain how I approach "outlining" which isn't really outlining at all.
I write in a Notion table, where every scene is a separate table entry and the scene is written in the page inside that entry. I do this because it makes writing nonlinearly VASTLY more intuitive and straightforward than writing in a single document. (If you're familiar with Notion, this probably makes perfect sense to you. If you're not, imagine something a little like a more contained Google Sheets, but every row has a title cell that opens into a unique Google Doc when you click on it. And it's not as slow and clunky as the Google suite lol) (Edit from the future: I answered an ask with more explanation on how I use Notion for non-linear writing here.) When I sit down to begin a new fic idea, I make a quick entry in the table for every scene I already know I'll want or need, with the entries titled with a couple words or a sentence that describes what will be in that scene so I'll remember it later. Basically, it's the most absolute bare-bones skeleton of what I vaguely know will probably happen in the story.
Then I start writing, wherever I want in the list. As I write, ideas for new scenes and new connections and themes will emerge over time, and I'll just slot them in between the original entries wherever they naturally fit, rearranging as necessary, so that I won't forget about them later when I'm ready to write them. As an example, my current long fic started with a list of roughly 35 scenes that I knew I wanted or needed, for a fic that will probably be around 100k words (which I didn't know at the time haha). As of this writing, it has expanded to 129 scenes. And since I write them directly in the page entries for the table, the fic is actually its own outline, without any additional effort on my part. As I said in the comment reply--a living outline!
This also made it easier to let go of the notion that I had to write something exactly right the first time. (People always say you should do this, but how many of us do? It's harder than it sounds! I didn't want to commit to editing later! I didn't want to reread my work! XD) I know I'm going to edit it naturally anyway, so I can feel okay giving myself permission to just write it approximately right and I can fix it later. And what I found from that was that sometimes what I believed was kind of meh when I wrote it was actually totally fine when I read it later! Sometimes the internal critic is actually wrong. 3. Marinating in the headspace of the story. For the first two months I worked on [fic], I did not consume any media other than [fandom the fic is in]. I didn't watch, read, or play anything else. Not even mobile games. (And there wasn't really much fan content for [fandom] to consume either. Still isn't, really. XD) This basically forced me to treat writing my story as my only source of entertainment, and kept me from getting distracted or inspired to write other ideas and abandon this one.
As an aside, I don't think this is a necessary step for writing, but if you really want to be productive in a short burst, I do highly recommend going on a media consumption hiatus. Not forever, obviously! Consuming media is a valuable tool for new inspiration, and reading other's work (both good and bad, as long as you think critically to identify the differences!) is an invaluable resource for improving your writing.
When I write, I usually lay down, close my eyes, and play the scene I'm interested in writing in my head. I even take a ten-minute nap now and then during this process. (I find being in a state of partial drowsiness, but not outright sleepiness, makes writing easier and better. Sleep helps the brain process and make connections!) Then I roll over to the laptop next to me and type up whatever I felt like worked for the scene. This may mean I write half a sentence at a time between intervals of closed-eye-time XD
People always say if you're stuck, you need to outline.
What they actually mean by that (whether they realize it or not) is that if you're stuck, you need to brainstorm. You need to marinate. You don't need to plan what you're doing, you just need to give yourself time to think about it!
What's another framing for brainstorming for your fic? Fantasizing about it! Planning is work, but fantasizing isn't.
You're already fantasizing about it, right? That's why you're writing it. Just direct that effort toward the scenes you're trying to write next! Close your eyes, lay back, and fantasize what the characters do and how they react.
And then quickly note down your inspirations so you don't forget, haha.
And if a scene is so boring to you that even fantasizing about it sucks--it's probably a bad scene.
If it's boring to write, it's going to be boring to read. Ask yourself why you wanted that scene. Is it even necessary? Can you cut it? Can you replace it with a different scene that serves the same purpose but approaches the problem from a different angle? If you can't remove the troublesome scene, what can you change about it that would make it interesting or exciting for you to write?
And I can't write sitting up to save my damn life. It's like my brain just stops working if I have to sit in a chair and stare at a computer screen. I need to be able to lie down, even if I don't use it! Talking walks and swinging in a hammock are also fantastic places to get scene ideas worked out, because the rhythmic motion also helps our brain process. It's just a little harder to work on a laptop in those scenarios. XD
In conclusion: Writing nonlinearly is an amazing tool for kicking writer's block to the curb. There's almost always some scene you'll want to write. If there isn't, you need to re-read or marinate.
Or you need to use the bathroom, eat something, or sleep. XD Seriously, if you're that stuck, assess your current physical condition. You might just be unable to focus because you're uncomfortable and you haven't realized it yet.
Anyway! I hope that was helpful, or at least interesting! XD Sorry again for the text wall. (I think this is the longest comment reply I've ever written!)
And same to you guys on tumblr--I hope this was helpful or at least interesting. XD Reblogs appreciated if so! (Maybe it'll help someone else!)
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jessamine-rose · 5 months ago
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*gasp* It's me ( ˶°ㅁ°) !!
🍵 𝒲𝐻𝒪𝒟ℛ𝒜𝒩𝒦𝐼𝒯? ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚: A Yandere!H:SR x Reader Otome Game
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✧ romanceable characters (© hoyoverse): Professor Veritas Ratio, "Your friend" Kakavasha, and "Gallagher" [for now]
✧ content warning: yandere themes, mentions of racial/species discrimination (your character is SEA/Filipino-coded), (y/n) uses they/them, the story takes place in a modern hybrid alternate universe where each planet (Belobog, Penacony, etc) is considered a country.
PLAY THE DEMO HERE (available for download on PC & Mac AND online play for any devices, though download is preferable to avoid pixellated graphics & misaligned textboxes)
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You (name changeable) are a hardworking and full-pledged human cafe owner in Penacony City. Your Dreamjolt Cafe has been a go-to for residents and tourists alike. But your loved ones' lives took a sharp turn for the worst when you decided to take a much-needed vacation back to your homeland, Perlas. While your family eagerly awaited your arrival, you disappeared en route. Where did you go? How did this happen? Who did this? Was it...
☕ the prickly yet fascinating Prof. Veritas Ratio, your self-proclaimed avian-hybrid regular,
☕Kakavasha, your longest fellow human friend who always seems to have a secret or two;
☕ or Gallagher, your hound-hybrid roommate whose past is as peculiar as his loyalty?
☕ or are there two more you're forgetting?
... so...
𝒲𝐻𝒪 𝒹𝓇𝒶𝓃𝓀 𝒾𝓉?
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Please support this game by reblogging the post & sending asks/comments! I put a lot of time and effort writing, drawing, and learning to code for this. Thank you so much, my beloved yandere!H:SR community and of course, @dreamjolt-hostelry, for being supportive friends!!! - @beloved-brynn
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✧ Characters, Background Art and UI Credits
Hoyoverse assets sourced from the-astral-express-archive. I just tweaked em a bit!
Canva freestock images... Haha...
✧ Intro video, sprites & CG art Credits
Me!!! Hi <3 I hope you enjoyed them! I can't believe yall made me learn adobe after effects a bit for this-
✧ Music Credits
The main menu theme (the first song upon booting the game) is made by @naraven!
The rest of the royalty free music soundtrack (such as the music used for the video above) is sourced from Vodovoz Music Productions!!! Please show the creator some love!!! I was actually vibing so hard while listening to them lmao
✧ (Fan)Story
lol hi again!!! man. i feel like Argenti.
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If you wish to support my work and want to see more of this in the future, please buy me a coffee! So I can at least prove to my parents that my work is at least worth one dollar ;;;;
#EVERYONE CHECK OUT BRYNN'S GAME#THIS WAS SO COOL >:0#for starters i love the trailer!! the edits. the text. the choice of music......aaahhh perfectly suspenseful and high-stakes#onto the game itself. big shoutout to ven for their music!! the main menu theme sounds so calm and reminds me of a joke i made about how th#colored illustration of the comic prologue reminds me of a slice-of-life isekai light novel. ven's music would definitely fit in as an ost#in that scenario. alas if only the story were that peaceful xD#cue me going “!!” every time i came across my special dialogue xD#i rlly enjoyed the demo. you did a good job at introducing the premise. y/n's background. and all of the characters >:3#AND THE CGS!! they were so pretty >:'0#i particularly like the sunday vs gallagher cg. when i first saw it i thought of hypnosis mic?? pokemon?? basically any Chara vs Chara pic~#i rlly like the dynamic between y/n and their friends. it perfectly shows why all three men would be yandere for them >:3#ohhh and quick shoutout for their sprites!! i rlly love how each character is styled. you already know how much i love ratio's glasses and#hi-waist pants. it suits him as a university professor. i like to view the brooch and shirt pattern as his personal style shining through ^#on the other hand. kakavasha's quite casually dressed. makes me all the more curious about his job#i was most surprised by gallagher's outfit!! didn't expect y/n's hound to be so effortlessly stylish. i see that dog collar though >:3#onto sunday. i'm very interested in his character. my first theory is that sunday imprisoned y/n and the demo only reinforced my theory <3#fingers crossed that he and argenti get their own routes!! i can already imagine how unique their stories with y/n will be#back to sunday specifically. i like his dynamic with y/n!! i'm guessing he is attracted to them bc of how honest y/n is with him. in#comparison to his political peers and allies#also the ao3 fic is wild. i need to know sunday's reaction to it. for all we know maybe he commissioned someone to write it xD#i picked 'no' to sunday's proposal ofc. like hell i'd abandon my cute little puppy xD#robin's involvement in this case is super interesting given what's at stake for her. hopefully we can trust her....and hopefully she won't#tamper with any evidence for the sake of her family <3#hmm i think that’s all i have to say?? i can’t wait to see what boothill and robin will do in their search for y/n#iirc the comic prologue was their interrogation with gallagher?? ahh can’t wait to hear about their lovely backstory <3#once again. you did an amazing job brynn!!#and knowing what happened in your last fic where the character and y/n owned a cafe…..i am scared of what will happen in this game#especially since this is yandere. ‘all routes lead to doom’ or whatever the tagline was in hamefura ig xD#hsr x reader#yandere hsr
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rubys-domain · 1 year ago
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logged into enstars for the first time in months. i still have no idea how to play this game lmao
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wisheswagered · 2 years ago
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okay it is time... to go on a following spree!! >:)
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bluesidez · 6 months ago
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[The Ideal Gaze]
lab tester: @ichigosluvrr 🩻
pairing: DadBod!Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader
summary: Miguel is feeling a bit out of your league, so you remind him that he’s just in your lane. 
content warning: established relationship (they’re married with kids!), domestic fluff, mild hurt/comfort due to Miguel being an idiot that does not understand The Female Gaze, some miscommunication between reader and Miguel, 18+ so MDNI, a little raunchier than I intended tbh but hopefully I presented DB!Mig well, body worship, heated tension, reader is like obsessed with Miguel’s new Dad Bod, deepthroat 😗, missionary position, unprotected p in v sex (WRAP IT UP 🫵🏾), the word Ma as a term of endearment from Miguel to reader two times
word count: 5.3k, halfway proofread
a/n: Fulfilling this first because this was technically my first request! I added a few more elements (thank you Miguel server!), so I hope you don’t mind. There were no specific requests other than fluff and smut, so I went with the flow. I hope you enjoy! (Also, I found the original artist's post here!! Go give them some love!)
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Your blood is pumping as you round the corner, only a few more steps until you reach the driveway. 
The jog today was pretty refreshing. There were no calls from work asking about things that could wait until 8 AM, no toddler fussing about waking up, and no child whining about getting homework done. It was just you, your FitBit, your steamy audiobook, and the lingering thoughts of meeting your husband’s eyes this morning. Lately, it’s been like a little game to rile him up. 
You’ve been married for a few years and a family of four for seven years with a sweet little girl, a second grader with the attitude of an old lady, and a precious little boy, a preschooler with keen intuition. With your lives being consumed with work and taking care of the kids, you feel like your relationship has been put on the back burner. Long gone were the days in which you two made love at the drop of a hat, fucking on anything that could hold you. Now, you were lucky enough to get a little dry humping.
It was getting depressing, and more annoyingly, frustrating, so you started to put your riled-up energy elsewhere. You were up at the crack of dawn making everyone’s lunches and going on occasional jogs, you were using your PTO for brunches with the girls and spa days, you had regular pilates classes, the real pilates, and most importantly, you were finding small pockets of time for yourself. 
From buying yourself small gifts to filling your Kindle with romance books to pleasuring yourself on the nights Miguel worked overtime. You were sure to keep yourself busy. All of that, and you still couldn’t get the thought of Miguel entangled with you out of your head. 
You heaved out as you stopped at the end of the driveway, taking a few breaths to calm your state. The book you were listening to was on a particularly enthralling scene and you wondered if it was something that Miguel would be interested in trying. 
You looked down at yourself and decided to unzip the top of your athletic jacket, letting the tightness of your bra and the fabric push your cleavage up. One smooth swipe of your clothes and you were walking to the front door. 
It was 6:40 AM, so there was plenty of time to have a little quiet moment with your husband. 
You walked into the kitchen and saw him standing in all of his glory. A newspaper in his left hand, because some things didn’t need to be digitized, a “Best Papá Ever” mug in his right hand, black glasses on his face, and your favorite thing, a naked plush torso on display. 
In the first years of parenthood, his metabolism was through the roof. Despite him joining you for every snack, meal, and midnight dessert, he never lost that tiny little waist or those washboard abs. It wasn’t until your youngest was born and babbling that his appearance started to change. His arms became a mix of muscle and cellulite, his thighs were softer than ever, his chest was full and plump, and his waist widened gifting you with his soft belly and a happy trail that continued to his belly button. 
The early time didn’t stop the coil of neediness in your stomach from forming. 
“Good morning, hubby,” you say with a lilt to your voice. You walked closer to him, an extra bounce in your step, and leaned on the island. 
Sure enough, Miguel was peeking at your chest from over his glasses, mug hovering over his lips. 
You only smiled coyly, waiting for his response. 
“Good morning. How was your jog?” he puts the newspaper and mug down, folding his arms under his chest. 
You stared at his bulging arms, pressed-up pecs, and his tummy that moved with him and almost whined. 
“It was really good. Super nice and refreshing. Maybe a little warm,” you crossed your legs, impatient. “How’s your morning so far?”
“It’s better,” he says, making the short distance to crowd your space. He leans over you, hands going to the island. “My wife is here now.”
You smile at his words, hands itching to touch him but not wanting to ruin the stride. Instead, you look up at him and pan his lips. 
“I’m feeling better, too,” you whisper, waiting. 
Miguel leans forward to press his lips onto yours, the smell of coffee hitting your senses. You feel little fireworks go off as he starts to open your mouth. Everything felt just right in this moment. 
When his hand slid across your back, you almost jumped up to wrap your legs around him. You tilted your head and wrapped your arms around his neck. You could feel yourself slipping against the counter, but Miguel was right there to steady you. 
For what felt like hours to you after so long of a heated connection, the two of you made out on the kitchen island. Only some birds chirping, the occasional car passing by, and the hum of the washing machine could be heard next to the sound of you both breathing into each other’s lips
“Come with me to the shower?” you say, eyes heavy and pleading. 
You could feel Miguel tense up, back rigid as he moved back. 
“I better stay. Raul might wake up soon and he was having a hard time sleeping last night.”
Your heart dropped at the rejection. You were hoping that this would be the one, the moment that you’ve been anticipating for months. Some form of sexual connection. 
“Ok. I’ll be out soon,” you turn and go to the master bathroom, tugging the zipper down hastily. You felt a bit dejected and embarrassed, but you’re trying to let it go. Your mommy side knows that your youngest woke up in distress last night so it makes perfect sense that Miguel wants to be alert for his cries, but your wife side wants her husband back and can’t help but feel like he didn’t want you. 
With this brisk shower, you hoped this self-doubt and neediness washed away with it. 
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You tapped your fingers against the desk, staring off at your computer. Work today was slow, which you didn’t mind because that meant you could frequent your watchlist, but your mind kept wandering off while watching some random K-drama. 
Last night, you woke up to what sounded like Miguel getting off in the bathroom. 
He got off work super late that day, so you took the initiative to get the kids to bed and go to bed early. 
What you didn’t expect was to wake up to the sound of his grunts coming through the bathroom door. 
At first, you were a little hurt that he didn’t wake you up to help him out, but then you were so overcome by the sound of him whimpering and moaning that you couldn’t help but pleasure yourself. 
He sounded so desperate and wanton, cursing every once in a while. You bit your lip as you imagined him right next to you, voice right in your ear. You wanted his weight on you. You wanted to feel his skin against yours. 
You lay in the empty bed rubbing yourself until you came, his noises stopping a while before you finished. You were hoping he would come out and see you so you prolong your orgasm to no avail, sleep coming to claim you before he did. 
When you tried to ask him about it in the morning, he kept avoiding your eyes, saying something about his stomach giving him the blues. 
You let it go then, but that didn’t stop you from thinking about it all day. 
In a spur-of-the-moment decision, you decide to text him a flirty message, running to the bathroom to take a picture to match. You waited a little bit, hoping that he could take at least a peek. 
“You look gorgeous, honey.”
Just gorgeous? Not hot? Not good enough to make him want more?
You scrunched your mouth to the side, asking if he could send a picture back.
“Baby, you know I can’t. I’m at work right now.” 
You huffed at that. You knew he was just in his lab by himself. There was plenty of time and solitude to take a picture. He used to send random pictures of himself all of the time. 
For the rest of the day, you were irritated, feeling slighted at the hands of your husband.
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You took a break from trying to seduce your husband, tired of the pushback. You put your all into taking care of the kids and maintaining the house when you could.
“And how many sticks does that leave Cassie with?” you asked Gabriella. You both were at the dining table with her math homework sprawled everywhere while dinner was in the oven. 
“27!” she shouted, voice becoming more confident over the course of the math sheet. 
“Correct! You’re knocking ‘em out, girl!”
“Buen trabajo, mija,” Miguel said with vigor as he came by to kiss the top of her head. “You’re doing so well.” (Good job, mija.)
“Does this mean I can get a cookie?” she asked, quick to melt her father’s heart.
“Not before dinner, Gabriella, you know this,” Miguel bounced Raul in his arms, a little fussy and sniffly. 
“Please, papá!” she looked up at him with big brown eyes and a pout.  
Miguel sighed, unable to say no to her 9 times out of 10. 
He looked at you frantically, watching you snickering behind your hands, “You have to ask Mamá.”
Whenever he really wanted to say no, he used you as a trump card.
Gabriella’s shoulders drop as she turns to you, already knowing the drill.
“The answer is no. You can wait until after dinner,” you say, squeezing her cheek.
“You always say no,” Gabriella whines dramatically, slumping in her seat with her arms crossed, pout just like her dad’s.
“And you can always go to bed with no cookies,” you chide as you get up to go check on dinner. “Now go put your homework up and wash your hands, dinner is almost ready.”
She puts her papers back in her folder with the theatrics of a Broadway actor, sighing dramatically with each step she took to her room.
Miguel laughed at her actions watching her leave, “She’s just like her Mami when she gets like that. Fussy.”
You pause to put your hand on your hip, “No, she’s just like her Father when she can’t get her way. Whiny.” You open the oven and pull the lasagna out to the stove to cool a bit. 
“Well, I can’t say no to her just like I can’t say no to you,” he says, placing Raul at the table with a hand running over his soft hair. “You both have the same puppy-dog eyes.”
“You like leaving the hard parenting to me.”
“That is not true. I just tussled with a four-year-old to get him to take his cold medicine and made a promise of not one, but two bedtime stories,” he says, coming up behind you as you reached to get the dishes. He got them down for you instead, hand on your hips and stomach pressed against your back.
You bite your tongue in order not to will your negligent, horny brain from awakening. You didn’t have time for those thoughts, little feet were near, and every advance you gave him ended in failure. 
“Is he doing ok?” you say, referring to Raul he sat at the table with his head down, a teddy bear hugged against him as he pitifully moved his toy car back and forth. It was definitely a big shift from his usual talkative demeanor.
“We might have to go to the doctor again. His allergies are really acting up.”
You leave Miguel’s side to go squat down by Raul, “How are you feeling, sweetheart?”
You rubbed his back, trying to see if he felt warmer than usual and sure enough, he was burning up.
“My throat hurts, Mama,” he said, little voice just about gone. 
“Oh, I know, my sweet baby,” you say with a soft voice. “Do you want me to make you some alphabet soup?”
Raul’s face twists up, lip a little wobbly, “But I want some cheese noodles.”
“Hey, it’s ok!. You can have some lasagna. I just want your throat to feel better. Hot things will make it feel better.”
“The cheese noodles are hot, too.”
You smiled, “That’s right, the cheese noodles are hot, but I mean a hot liquid.”
He stayed quiet for a moment, hands squeezing his teddy bear as he thought, “Can I have hot chocolate?”
“Of course you can. Can I give you a kiss?”
He nods his head slowly and you lean over to kiss his head. You needed to get him under the covers soon. Before you could pull away, he wrapped his arms around your neck, snuggling up to be held. You couldn’t resist holding your baby, especially when you couldn’t take his pain away. 
You get up to see Miguel helping Gabriella plate the slices of lasagna on each plate and setting up the side salad. Your heart filled with joy watching them giggle over the stretchy cheese. It was moments like this that reminded you that you were taking the right steps, that this was the perfect little life.  
As they set up the table with the plates and drinks, you kept Raul in your arms, ready to help him with tonight's dinner. 
“Thank you for the food, Mommy,” Gabriella said with a toothy smile. 
“You’re welcome, baby,” you say, cutting Raul’s food up even smaller, not wanting him to struggle any more than he had to tonight. 
The table was quiet, save for Gabriella and Miguel smacking their food occasionally and Raul’s wheezy breaths. 
By the time dinner was over, Gabriella was buzzing in her seat for cookies, and Raul was close to falling asleep in your arms. 
You couldn’t ask for anything better. 
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With Raul sound asleep, Gabriella tucked in bed, and Miguel watching cable, you had a moment to yourself to think. 
Did today’s small touches mean anything?
You stood in the bathroom moisturizing your skin after a hot bath. You said you were going to stop trying to fish for your husband’s attention, but if you were honest, today’s brief moment of connection did it for you. You couldn’t stop your thoughts once you were alone.
You decide to wear just a pair of panties and one of his old t-shirts to bed: a look that wasn’t trying too hard to get his attention, but you’re sure he’s going to notice it. 
You sat on the bed and decided to read until he came into the room. You hope you were giving a sexy girlfriend vibe. Your skin was all smooth, you smelled good, and you knew you looked good. 
When Miguel walks in, he pauses at the door to stare at you. 
“Why are you looking at me like that? Come to bed,” you say. 
Hook, line, and sinker. 
Miguel shuffled over, eyeing you from head to toe. He looked delicious in his tank top, fabric stretched in the best possible ways.
He crawled on the bed next to you, “My band t-shirt?”
“Yeah! It’s comfy.”
He rubbed his hand up your naked thigh and your nerves started to sing. Any further up, and you might just wet your panties from his touch alone. You missed it so much. 
He leaned over to kiss the juncture your neck and shoulder, your neck, your cheek, and then he stopped. 
He just…stopped.
“Well, I gotta go in earlier tomorrow, so I’m going to sleep early. Is it ok if I turn this light off?
You felt your throat dry up, “Yeah, ok.”
He got under the sheets and switched his lamp off, leaving you in the dark with the faint light of your Kindle illuminating the room.
“Goodnight, honey,” he said with a yawn. 
“Night.”
You turned your Kindle off and just sat in silence, his snores breaking the illusion of the dark consuming you. 
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You’re starting to think the worst. 
You kept up a number of tactics subtle to glaringly obvious to appeal to your husband from changing up your perfume to what you would say was an amazing strip tease. Absolutely nothing is working. 
He kept listing off excuses from the kids to his job to his parents to his brother, anything to avoid an intimate session with you. He even chose a night out with his boys over a night in bed with you which was jarring because he always made you feel good before going out to have a good time. 
Did he not find you attractive anymore? You knew childbirth brought a lot of change, but you were still the same woman he met and fell in love with. 
Did he not love you anymore? He often praised you for being a good mom and his pet names never stopped, but after that, his declaration of love for you had been very surface-level.
Is he cheating on you?
You really didn’t want to entertain that thought, but your heart couldn’t take any more pain than it already had. 
So, one day when you say you’re taking the kids to the park, you drop them off at your mom’s place instead, hoping that if there was something going on, no little hearts would be broken once you unleash a beast in the house. 
You pull back in the driveway to see that he’s still here, just as you suspected. You make your way quietly through the house, inching closer to you all’s bedroom. 
Your heart almost stops when you hear the sound of Miguel’s voice, high and breathy in a way that should only reach your ears. You don’t think when you swing the door open, adrenaline pumping high.  
Miguel yells, scared to death but alone. 
“What are you doing?” you ask, voice frustrated.
“What am I doing? What are you doing?”
You look at the state he’s in, shirt up, waistband under his dick, and a mystery fabric in his hand. 
“Were you getting off?” you say, hands dropping to your side. “Do you…do you not love me anymore?”
“What?”
“Do you. Not. Love me anymore. You avoid me every time I’ve tried to initiate something with you. We haven’t made love in so long. You keep making excuses to not be alone with me. You don’t even want to do normal things with me like send pictures or makeout until we’re out of breath. I’ve heard you in the bathroom during the night and now you’re here doing the same thing, without me, your wife.” Your eyes start to water after it all, feeling utter defeat. 
“Cariño, this is a misunderstanding,” he pleads, voice distraught. “I do love you. I’ve never stopped loving you.”
“Then why are you doing this to me?”
“Because,” he pauses, fixing his clothes to have some decency. “I…haven’t felt the greatest about my body.”
Your tears dry up as soon as the statement resonates, “What? What do you mean?”
Miguel sighs.
“Lately, it’s getting harder and harder for my old clothes to fit me anymore, I’m way too busy to hit the gym and more than anything, I think you deserve a man who’s a little less,” he gestures to himself, “let go.”
“Says who?”
He looks at you as if you’ve grown two heads, “Uh, everybody?”
“Well, who is everybody because I’d like to strangle them for letting you think that my husband isn’t good enough for me.” You walk deeper into the bedroom crowding Miguel’s space. “You’ll always be perfect for me. The vows I promised to you will not be broken over something so normal as weight gain.”
He looked like he could cry. 
“Why did you hide you were feeling this way, baby?” you hold his head in your hands scratching at his scalp. 
“It felt stupid and silly. You’ve been doing so well socially and physically, I wanted to see if I could fix it on my own before bringing you down with my problems.”
“Miguel O’Hara,” you say, gripping his jaw firmly. “I’m your wife. I might not be able to solve everything, but at the very least, you need to talk to me. Tell me how you’re feeling, express yourself with words. Don’t hide.”
He wrapped his arms around you, sniffling, “I know. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”
You pressed a long kiss into his scalp, rubbing his back. 
“Oh my gosh,” you chuckled. “You were feeling so much internally, meanwhile I was practically screaming at you to fuck me. I thought you weren’t attracted to me anymore.” 
So much for communication. 
Miguel just burried his face in your chest while he groaned, “That’s the thing! You were driving me crazy with your tight little workout clothes and your lingerie. You looked so good, but I couldn’t get out of my own head. I’ve been…”
“You’ve been what?”
“I,” he got red in the face. “I’ve been using your underwear.”
You look down to Miguel’s crumbled up hand and it was in fact your underwear from the night you wore his band t-shirt, drenched in his essence.
Your stomach turned with excitement.
“So this is what you were doing in the bathroom in the middle of the night, hm? Using my panties? Giving them more action and attention than me?”
Miguel nodded, eyes hazy.
“Did it feel good?”
Another nod.
“I bet it did. I would wake up and hear you trying so hard to cum.”
You don’t know how, but his face got even warmer.
“You left your poor wife all alone, thinking about you on top of her until she came too.”
“I did?”
“You didn’t know?” you ask, playfully. “I was up all night imagining you walking out to see me. I wanted these arms to come and hold me.”
You squeeze at his arms on your sides. 
“I wanted your weight on me. I wanted your chest against mine.I needed you so bad.”
You move to sit in his lap, knees on the side of him.
“You do such a great job of being a father. This beautiful change in your body is only proof of your hard work and dedication. It’s proof of love for your family.”
Miguel only melted in your hands, face a cloud of emotion.
“I love you, Miguel. I adore you. I yearn for you. I want you.”
With every declaration, came a kiss to his lips.
“Can I show you how much I love you?”
“Please.”
With that, you took his shirt off and made your way down his chest. You lingered around his chest, holding his pecs as you kissed them all over. You couldn’t stop your moans as your tongue felt across the hairy planes of his chest, sucking and pulling on his nipples. Miguel shudders as you pay special attention to them, sensitive after not being with you for so long.
“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this,” you breathe into his skin. You slide onto the floor and just press your face into his stomach.
“You like it that much?”
“Love it. You look so yummy walking around. You could be just standing there and I get so,” you cut yourself off, trying not to overwhelm him with just how much you were feeling. “You’re hot, baby.”
You kiss down his happy trail to reach his pants, his stomach twitching. You tugged a bit too hard on his pants, causing him to laugh. 
“What’s so funny?” you say with a pout. 
“I haven’t seen you like this since we won that couple’s retreat.”
“Not my fault. You were all sexy up there, beating the other husbands with your big brain. It was doing something to me.”
You finished pulling and you could almost cry with joy when Miguel’s cock springs next to your head. The sound you make when you see it also has Miguel wound tight. 
Completely taken over by your neediness and desperation, you pull one of his thick legs over your shoulder, kissing and sucking on the skin while your fingertips dance around the entirety of his length. 
The display of strength shocks Miguel who drips and whines at your actions. 
“I’m gonna make you feel so good, baby. Do you want that?”
“Yes,” he whispers. 
You cup him while you take his head in your mouth. It felt like pure bliss to have that familiar taste in your mouth. With the way you were humming, Miguel can tell that you were about to put him to sleep. 
You took no time letting your tongue stretch to take more of him in. Your cheeks hollow as you go further, one hand kneading at the thigh you were holding and the other switching from fondling him to wrapping around the base of his length. 
“God,” Miguel’s voice filled the room, the loudest it had been for the past few months. “I don’t think I’ll last that long.”
You let go of him and lick down the sides, “That’s because you’re too busy fucking other things instead of me.”
“’M sorry,” he whined as you went back down on him. “I-I was still thinking of you and, ngh, wanting you.”
“Mm hm,” your voice sent shocks down his spine as you didn’t let go. He moved his hips steadily, dick sliding in and out of your mouth and pudge occasionally pressing against your face. 
The faster he went, the noisier the sounds got. He moved his hands to your head, thighs eerily close to tightening around your face. You couldn’t have it any better. 
You dug your nails into his hips, throat contracting in order to take him in. Even with your jaw slacked, it’s been so long since you took him like this that you gagged more often than not. With every sound of your throat struggling, Miguel shouted your name, hands gripping tighter on your hair.
You could tell he was close by the way his thigh was tensing on your shoulder, so when he said the four words, you took him to the hilt, face completely pressed against him. 
“Shit!” he felt like passing out as he released into your throat. You swallowed as much as you could, but you couldn’t take it all, saliva and cum esxaping down your chin to his balls. 
He grunts when he pulls you off, chest moving sporadically. 
You lick your lips and let out a satisfied sigh, “Finally.”
Miguel could only chuckle as he laid back on the bed. You crawled on top of him, sitting on his thighs with a smile. You rub your hands on the skin of stomach, slowly getting to his chest, “I’m like, really wet right now if you want some more painties to use.”
He growled as he pulled you closer.
“You’re never going to let that go, are you?”
“Nope,” you say, popping the P. “I really want you to do it in front of me. Maybe send me a video for the nights you work overtime.”
He had the nerve to look embarrassed as he wrapped his arms around your back, “I might be able to arrange that.” He kissed your lips to distract you from speaking on it further.
After Miguel returned the favor with his head between your legs, the both of you were enjoying a quiet moment together before having to go pick up the kids.
“I can’t believe you thought I was cheating on you,” Miguel said as you were drawing circles on his chest.
“Miguel,” you say, lifting your head. “I pulled all the stops. I did things that I knew you loved: the t-shirts, going commando, the flirty pictures. I even brought whipped cream to the bedroom and you told me ‘I can’t eat that, it’ll blow up my stomach,’ when you were literally in the kitchen taking shots of it the night before.”
“Ok. So I see how you might have gotten to that ludicrous conclusion, but did you not notice how much I’ve been staring at you?”
You clicked your teeth, “Yeah, but what does that mean when you don’t act on it?”
Miguel twisted his lip, “Will you feel better if I told you that your work pictures turned me on too?”
You pinched him resulting in a yelp, “I’ll feel better right now if you give me a shower round.”
He pulled you in his arms as he got out of the bed, “Let’s go before your mom calls.”
You giggle and swing your feet on the way.
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After your afternoon of praising his body, Miguel emerged as his previous confident self. This meant more days with him walking around shirtless, more quickies in the morning, makeouts that ended in pleasure, him smacking your ass, you smacking his ass back, and sex. Lots and lots of sex.
Right now, Raul was down for a nap and Gabriella was enjoying her tablet time. 
You, however, were clawing at Miguel’s back like a cat as he pounded you into the mattress. 
“Fuck!” you shouted, eyelids fluttering as Miguel’s cock dragged across your walls. “It feels so good.”
“Quiet, mi vida,” he whispered. “The kids are in their rooms.”
You were quick to cover your mouth, moans muffled. It really didn’t matter because the creaks of the bed were just as loud as you. One change in position and the headboard denting the walls could be added to it. 
It was all too much. 
First, he woke you up with kisses down your body and a promise to lighten your load around the house. Then, he got the kids up and prepared breakfast with the help of Raul. Later while you were out running errands, he sent you a coupon for a spa that just opened up down the street and warm message. 
Now, he has you losing your mind with his hips slapping against yours, whispering praises in your ear.
“Miguel!”
“Hm? Talk to me.”
“I-I can’t-” your voice keeps getting louder unintentionally. He was so calm while he was reaching so deep inside. Your mind was hazy, wanting nothing more than him to keep going.
“You’re doing so good, Ma. You’re so good to me and the kids. You’re such a beautiful wife. Such a pretty Mama. Just wanna make you feel good.”
You felt yourself clench around him at his words, tears falling across your temples. He kissed your tears tenderly, strokes getting deeper. 
“M-Miguel,” you say with your heart full. “I love you.”
“I love you too, baby. So, so deeply,”
That was all it took for you to suck him in and scream into his shoulder, nails digging into his shoulder blades. His release was soon after, painting your walls with his lips pressed against your ear.
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“Papá! You have to be more careful,” Gabriella fussed with her hands on her hips while Miguel was in the kitchen trying to make the family a snack. “You got hurt at work!”
Miguel paused and reached behind his back, fingers roaming over the healing scratches on his shoulder from his last session with you. 
You covered your teeth with your lips as Miguel turned to look at you with his eyebrows raised. 
“It’s ok, mija. Papá is tough!”
“But you gotta put something on it,” Gabriella said with a huff.
“Thank you for your concern, nena. I’ll get Mamá to take care of it, ok?” he ruffled her hair as he handed her a plate of bunny-shaped apple slices. “Now go sit with your brother and watch some TV.”
Miguel huffed as he walked up to the side of you with his arms crossed.
“What? You should put your shirt on!”
“That’s not what you said when you-”
“Hush and go get the aloe.”
Miguel snickered as he gave your lips a peck, “Yeah, yeah.”
Life was wonderfully sweet.
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With that, my first request is done! As always, like, reblog, and COMMENT. Let me know how you guys feel! 🩵
2K notes · View notes
withercat1 · 2 months ago
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Some observations about Mouthwashing
Spoilers ahead!
Ok so this game has got me so hyperfixated that I’m using Tumblr for the first time in like a year just to keep a tab with the Mouthwashing hashtag open so I can refresh it throughout the day and see what people are posting. That and my tab full of Danny AOD gifs. Anyway.
So I wanted to share some things I’ve noticed because I haven’t seen anyone else mention them and I want to seem smart and observant.
First off is the name Curly. Like it��s kind of a weird name. It’s unclear whether this is his first or last name because the writing on his id card is so burned and so cursive. It is worth noting that Curly is an actual name, meaning “strong man” or “great strength”. What stands out to me though, is that Laika, the dog who was sent into space, was actually named Kudrayavka originally, which means “Little Curly” (and a little fun fact, Laika means “barker”). Thematically, both of these make sense. I don’t know which one was intentional, if either. It’s entirely possible Curly as a name is a reference, or just a name the devs liked.
Secondly, Anya’s design is based off of Shelley Duvall in The Shining, most recognizable to most people for the scene where she’s hiding in the bathroom while Johnny breaks down the door. That being her most iconic scene really reminds me of Anya’s deal with doors, being unable to lock the door to her quarters, and then locking herself in medical while the others try to get her out.
Thirdly, and the one I find most interesting, is one of the videos that plays on the tv after the storage room is opened. It’s about atoms, and states that atoms make up everything, like shoes, and ships, and sealing wax, and cabbages, and kings. I don’t know if this video was chosen by the devs specifically for this quote, but for the purposes of my rambling I’m going to assume it was. This quote is a direct reference to The Walrus and the Carpenter, a poem by Lewis Carroll.
The poem is hyperlinked above (hopefully, Idrk how to use Tumblr), but I just want to post the segment that the quote from the video comes from.
“The time has come,' the Walrus said,
      To talk of many things:
Of shoes — and ships — and sealing-wax —
      Of cabbages — and kings —
And why the sea is boiling hot —
      And whether pigs have wings.'”
To briefly summarize the whole poem, though I highly recommend reading it for yourself as well because it’s really good, the Walrus and the Carpenter come across a group of oysters and ask them to join them for a walk. The oysters do, and the Walrus and the Carpenter walk with then a bit, before finally stopping, where the lines above happen. Right after this, the oysters ask to take a break, and the Walrus and the Carpenter agree to let them have the break - because they plan on eating the oysters. “And why the sea is boiling hot,” I believe, refers to the oysters being boiled in order to prepare them for consumption.
The Walrus says he pities the oysters, and wipes his tears away, while actively partaking in the consumption of the oysters. The poem ends with a statement that all of the oysters have been devoured.
So! Let’s focus on the Walrus here. Someone who leads innocents astray, boils/cooks them, and then eats them, all the while crying about how awful it is while doing nothing to abstain from eating them. Sound familiar? Sound like that guy we all hate? Little bit! I don’t know if it was an intentional bit of symbolism or not, but it’s super big brained if it was.
That’s all for now but I’m sure I’ll think of some more things later. I love this game. If u made it this far I really appreciate it, feel free to comment and let me know what you think
Also let me know how to tag a post as spoilers properly, I seriously do not use this site
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heechwe · 2 months ago
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miss americana | 𝖕𝖘𝖍
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➸ second anthology piece in "basketball (inkchwe's version)" and story-inspired playlist also can be found there too! ୨୧ pairing: park sunghoon x fem!reader ୨୧ word count: 9.8k ୨୧ genre: fluff, angst, smut ୨୧ tags: basketballplayer!heesung, cheerleader!reader, established relationship, exes to lovers au, high school au, heavy petting, marking, oral (f receiving) penetration (all characters are of age!) ୨୧ synopsis: Fed up with Sunghoon's attitude and petty games, you move on, hopefully to something better. Why did he have to realize how important you were to him once you were already gone? ➸ a/n: bless @mini-mews for being there every step of the way with this fic, it was amazing seeing all of the comments and reactions and i could not have asked for a better beta ♡
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DECEMBER
Sunghoon could have made the winning shot if it weren’t for the praise that was placed on someone else for so long. Lee Heeseung was the best shooting guard his high school had ever seen; anyone with talent and passion for the sport could see that. At the same time, Sunghoon made a lot of calls as the small forward that were imperative to the success of the team. From scoring to handling the ball, Sunghoon could do it all and then some.
If only the captain, the old fart, saw that. And Heeseung, the sanctimonious prick, appreciated him more.
Sunghoon is so wrapped up in his bitter thoughts he can barely focus on your lips attached to his neck and your legs around his waist. You both were cramped in the driver’s side of his car, but you managed to make yourself fit on Sunghoon’s lap to straddle him. In the dark of night, only the two of you parked on the basketball court by the river, you decided to give him a reminder of what the most important thing in his life was outside of winning the championship. 
Sunghoon usually spent times like these celebrating with his other teammates, but something was sitting in the front of his mind like a fly he couldn’t swat. You can tell in the furrow of his brows and his scrunched-up mouth. He may not be able to focus on going out and drinking, but it was a benefit to you. Maybe he would finally spend some time with you like he used to.
“Heeseung acts like everyone should worship the ground he walks on. Yeah, he won the game tonight, so what? I could score as many baskets as him if I wanted. And I’ve played as many games as his ass and won. Even once when I had chicken pox.” Sunghoon continues on his rant, unbothered by your mouth and hands on him. You run both of your palms inside of his jersey and feel the skin of his abs underneath your fingers, but Sunghoon doesn’t budge.
“I think you did great, who cares?” You mumble into his neck, focused on making him feel pleasure rather than irritation. You move Sunghoon’s hands to cup your backside, the cheer shorts under your skirt riding up to expose your upper thighs.
“Whatever,” Sunghoon grumbles, eyes looking past you and towards the window.
“What do you mean ‘whatever’?” You pull away from him to look in his eyes. He’s a million miles away, not bothering to pay attention to your impending frustration. His only concerns are himself and his feelings. “Seriously, get over this attitude and talk to me if you’re not gonna at least act interested.”
Sunghoon lets out a frustrated groan and pushes you back into the passenger seat. You yelp in the process, barely landing on your ass. “What the fuck, Hoon?”
“Don’t you see I’m upset and maybe I don’t want to spend another night making out?”
“Another—“ You huff out a breath, shocked at his audacity. “When was the last time we actually spent quality time together?” Before Sunghoon can answer with a basic response, you interrupt him. “And by ‘quality time,” I don’t mean with the guys or Jongseong in attendance.”
“That’s not fair.” Sunghoon tries to hit you with his signature pout, but you don’t budge.
“What’s not fair is that I’m supposed to be your girlfriend but all you care about is huffing and puffing about basketball, complaining about not being the captain, or being a huge jackass.”
“If that’s all I do, then why the fuck are you still around?” Sunghoon bites back, venom dripping from every word.
You look at him with wide eyes, seeing him clearly for the first time in months. After the latter half of the year you’ve been together being a disappointment of epic proportions, the veil finally lifted. Sunghoon does have a point. What are you still doing with him?
“You know what? You’re right.” You exit Sunghoon’s Denali with a grunt and fix your makeup, not letting the tears that threaten to escape fall from your cheeks.
“What are you doing now?”
“You’re right. I’m not gonna waste my time anymore. I’m done.” You slam the passenger door closed and begin your walk from the basketball court to your house, determined not to look back. If he wanted to be that way, then you deserved better.
You hear the slow, incoming huff of Sunghoon’s car, and he rolls the window down to continue your conversation. His lips are in a thin line, his annoyance at an all-time high but now directed completely at you. He says, “So I guess I’ll call you when you’re not so hormonal?”
“Don’t bother. Just fuck off, Sunghoon.”
He nods his head with an angry smirk and rolls the window back up. In a sudden screech, his car races down the empty street, leaving you alone in the night to cry. You weep not just for the future you saw with him coming to a sudden end, but for the past Sunghoon who you believed would never treat you this way now.
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You shut your locker with an angry hand, a resounding slam filling the hallway. The strangers around you flinch in response and whisper, some unsure why the head cheerleader is in such a mood today.
“Didn’t you hear? Her and Sunghoon are done,” one of them speaks in a hushed tone.
“Damn. And right after his win? Heartless,” another says with the click of their tongue.
“How about you guys mind your fucking business?” You spit the words in their direction with force before walking away towards your calculus class. 
As if anyone knows anything about your relationship or how it came to end. The vipers are always ready to strike when a new hint of gossip comes around, no matter who gets hurt in the process.
To add salt to the wound, Sunghoon saunters up to you and tries to wrap his arm around your shoulder. You shrug him off with a tired grunt.
Many times before you had fought and made up as if the day prior never happened, all smiles and no tears in sight. But you’re tired of the same game you always played with each other. You think to yourself about the way he spoke to you two days ago, and how you would tell any other friend they deserve better.
And you definitely deserve better than that.
“Are you still mad?” Sunghoon asks with a whine. Typically, his childlike voice would make you laugh. Right now, you just feel vomit in the back of your throat.
“I’m not mad. We’re over.” You speak with a defeated but definitive tone, the end of your sentence falling into a whisper.
What’s the point of fighting anymore? With an outside perspective you did not have previously, you realized how exhausting it was going up and down with someone you were supposed to love.
Sunghoon doesn’t keep up with you, somehow understanding from the resignation in your voice and simple response that, as far as you were concerned, you were done with him.
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“Goddamnit,” you curse, trying to make the lighter flick to life. For all the times you tried coaxing a flame from the device, it would not budge. First you had to deal with the onslaught of rumors circulating about your sudden breakup, and now you could barely get a lighter to work. Why did Mondays always have to be so awful?
Exhausted, you throw the pack of cigarettes and lighter into the open air. Both objects fall somewhere onto the football field, but you barely notice. You’re too focused on the tears in your eyes and the sobs that leave your mouth to pay attention to anything else.
You know it’s pathetic to sit on the bleachers and cry by yourself about the breakdown of your relationship, but the cyclone of emotions didn’t ask for permission when it hit you. It just did, violently and with little care for your wellbeing. You’re just glad to have the quiet time now to deal with the storm by yourself.
Or so you thought.
Someone walks up to you with both your cigarettes and lighter in his hands. Bang Chan, head quarterback for the football team and senior, smiles at you when you do look up in his direction. He steps back an inch when he notices your puffy eyes and red face. “Sorry,” he says. “Just saw you…lost these…and didn’t know if you wanted them back or not.”
You shake your head. “Throw them out if you want.”
Chan releases a surprised sigh. “Didn’t expect a cheerleader to smoke tobacco.”
His insight makes a smile appear on your lips in spite of the tears. “I never have. I just thought since I kicked one bad habit, why not replace it with another one?”
Chan laughs. He sits down next to you, but stays mindful of your space. “Sunghoon, right?”
You nod, his name a pit in your stomach. “You know him?”
”Just his reputation. Basketball guys can be real assholes.”
”And what about football players?” You counter. “You’re all just perfect angels?”
”Well, we prefer to call ourselves ‘realists’.” You share a laugh with him, relieved to feel something other than apathy or misery. It’s been so long since you’ve been around a guy who didn’t make you doubtful of yourself. Why not enjoy it?
You give Chan your name, but he tells you he was well aware of your presence before. “I mean, you cheer at our games too, y’know, so you’re hard not to notice.”
You blush, your puffy face suddenly red from the comment. “Well, you’re hard not to notice too, Chan.”
Maybe the future for you and Sunghoon had not played out the way you intended, but your future with someone else could potentially be pretty great.
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JANUARY
Sunghoon feels pretty out of place every year once the end of the basketball season comes around. Now that he’s single, he wonders what could fill his spare time in a meaningful way. Besides academics, he comes up empty with ideas. 
He wouldn’t have chosen to be broken up with, but what else could he have done? He wasn’t going to grovel, not when you were the one making a big deal out of one fight. Eventually, you would come to your senses and come back. You both loved each other too much not to resolve the situation, even if weeks had rolled by without any communication.
Sunghoon is walking with Jay to second period when he sees you chatting with Chan, all smiles and body too close to the senior’s for Sunghoon’s comfort. Jay notices how tense his friend becomes seeing both you and Chan together, shoulders rigid and jaw tight.
”Would it be so bad if you just apologized? Even if you think you didn’t do anything wrong—“
”I know I didn’t,” Sunghoon cuts in, pissed off at the situation he’s in. How did Chan have any right to try and pull the charm out now that you’re available? It makes the blood inside of Sunghoon’s veins boil to a scorching temperature.
”You love her, man. Stop trying to be nonchalant about your feelings.”
The bell for late students rings, and everyone still in the hallway scatters to make it to their classes. Sunghoon feels the muscles in his body twitch seeing you walk away with Chan, arm in arm like you’re the closest of friends.
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Writing notes for your physics class is hard when your best friend Wonyoung talks the entire time, her voice projecting to a high shrill. You manage to write while listening to her impassioned speech, but you stop altogether when the subject comes to you and Chan.
”When is he going to ask you out already? Everyone sees the way he looks at you.” Wonyoung bats her eyelashes with a suggestive smirk, and you thwack her away with your notebook.
”We’re just friends. And I’m not trying to date anyone right now.”
”Come on. It’s been three weeks. Nobody would blame you for putting yourself back out there.”
The intercom blares to life, and you hear your name and the request to be seen in the front office. You take your belongings in case the request involves some sort of emergency, your thoughts racing as you head out the door.
When you make it to the front office, all you see is Sunghoon with his back against the secretary’s counter, grinning ear to ear. You’re both alone for the first time since you broke up, and the awkwardness you feel is suffocating.
”Did you do this?” You ask, eyes rolling at his nonchalant posture.
“Miss Kang owed me a favor.” His eyes are vulnerable suddenly, the cloud of indifference shredding a touch. ”Besides, I wanted to see you.”
 Those words would’ve made you melt a long time ago, the early days of your relationship marked with gestures like this and sweet nothings leaving his lips. Now, you feel so far from the girl you were when you broke up with him.
”Well I want to get my lab done, so if you’ll excuse me—“
”Wait, wait, please.” He rushes to stop you from leaving the tiny office, his arm firm against the glass door in front of you.
”Sunghoon, this is not—“
”Please, just hear me out.”
You cross your arms and straighten your posture into a firm stance, looking directly in his eyes while waiting for the usual speech to leave his mouth.
You know you’re the only one I want.
”You know you’re the only one I want.”
My intention is never to fight with you.
”My intention is never to fight with you.”
All I want is to work this out, please.
”All I want is to work this out, please.”
You can’t help the broken laugh that leaves your lips, or the well of tears that build up behind your lashes. It’s both heartbreaking and comical that he thinks after weeks of nothing to show for his sudden humility, his half-baked, used-up monologue is the best way to mend your problems.
”Is that it?” you ask, deadpan.
Sunghoon stutters, suddenly at a loss for words. “What do you mean?”
”Is that all you want to say? ‘Cause if it is, then—”
”Why are you being like this?” His pleading tone suddenly becomes one of irritation. He’s not used to you putting up a fight, and now that you are, he doesn’t know how to handle it, like a toddler who can’t find their toy.
That’s all you were to him at the end of the day. A shiny doll to play with and discard when the circumstances didn’t suit him.
“I’m being like this because this is nothing new. And in another couple of days, it’ll be the same problems and the same excuses. It’s gotten old.” You walk out of the door, but hold it open just a touch to give him the last piece of your mind.
”You know what the worst part is, Sunghoon?” You clear your throat, failing to conceal the pain in your voice. “You didn’t even say you want me back because you love me.”
”Of course I love you!”
”Why? Why do you love me?” You throw your hands up at him, voice in tatters from how loud you’re screaming.
His response is exactly what you expected: nothing. No words come to mind or are adequate enough to describe the depth of his feelings for you, or lack thereof.
”That’s what I thought,” you say before walking away. If those are the last words you ever say to him, you’re glad you got them off of your chest.
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The Spring Formal was all the talk of Sunghoon’s friends and their girlfriends once the date of the dance was announced. It was two months away, yet the hallways and classes were already littered with hearts and pink banners. Dance proposals were rampant, some even going viral on the school’s social media accounts.
It made Sunghoon sick to his stomach.
Four days ago, he thought he could win you back, but it only made you run further away from him. Was he that predictable? And what did that beefhead Chan have now that Sunghoon suddenly didn’t?
Playing video games with the guys and Heeseung’s girlfriend in attendance, he hoped it would take his mind off of things. But seeing his off-and-on adversary and partner loved up in the corner of Jake’s room didn’t help.
Sunghoon looks at the two of them laughing in each other’s arms and remembers the feeling of your body in his, the first weeks of dating being some of the best of his life. The quick texts during class, the impromptu kisses in his car before saying goodnight, and the secret drives to the beach on the weekends. He remembers them all, even if his cold nature made you think he had forgotten them with a cruel ease.
The memories pain his heart, and the image of a happy couple still basking in their newfound love does nothing but twist the knife.
“Can you guys not be all over each other in front of us? It’s disgusting.” Sunghoon remarks with sarcasm as he shoots one of Jake’s CPUs down. His friend grunts and tries to take out a person on Sunghoon’s team to even the playing field. 
Heeseung’s girlfriend quirks an eyebrow, still focused on her boyfriend but ready to throw a comeback Sunghoon’s way. “Aw, someone’s jealous, isn’t he?”
Her saying the words out loud causes the entire room to go quiet. The only sounds come from the TV and automated game dialogue.
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Sunghoon responds, his voice at a new low.
“Hey man. Watch how you speak to my girlfriend,” Heeseung interrupts, ready to jump from the beanbag he’s sitting in to put his teammate in his place.
His girlfriend places a tender hand on his forearm. “I got this, Hee.” She turns her attention back to Sunghoon, the ghost of a smirk on her lips. “I meant exactly what I said. Your girlfriend was tired of you being a complete prick to everyone, including her.”
Heeseung says his girlfriend’s name in warning, knowing she’s gone a bit too far, no matter how true her words are.
She doesn’t stop though, and Sunghoon is too shocked to form a sentence. “And seeing anyone else happy makes you realize how bad you fucked up and why she was right to drop you.”
Jake makes a face at her too, silently pleading for an end to the fight before more things are said that can’t be taken back.
Sunghoon throws the controller at the TV stand, the device breaking once it hits the wood. Jake and Heeseung curse at him for his reaction, but Sunghoon storms out of the bedroom before he lets his anger go any further.
He sits on the stairs in front of his friend’s house and feels the prick of tears in his eyes. It’s rare for him to allow himself to be vulnerable. The only person in his life who saw him this way was you, and without you, he doesn’t know how to pull himself back from the precipice. Was what Heeseung’s girlfriend said true? Were you right to leave him? Did he not deserve any more chances to do right by you, given how many times he fucked it up before, no matter how much he loved you?
In spite of everything he’s done wrong, he still does. He loves your fire, the stubbornness that mirrors his own so perfectly. He loves your crude sense of humor, the way you can make a joke out of anything, even in the worst of times to make him laugh. And he loves your sweetness, your capability to think of others before yourself, something he’s never been good at and always admired about you even if he never said it. He never said a lot of things he should’ve.
The questions and regrets flood his brain and make him wish he had a time machine. He would go back to the last hour you were together before everything fell apart. To be happy to have you in his arms and grateful to still hold your respect, your effort, and your love.
He hears someone walk up to him, but he doesn’t bother to look. “I’ll apologize later, okay, Jake? I don’t need a lecture right now.”
The feminine grumble makes Sunghoon turn his head, not expecting to see Heeseung’s girlfriend behind him.
“I came to apologize to you.”
Sunghoon looks back to the street in front of him. He decides to avoid prolonging the argument and nods his head. “It’s fine. You didn’t say anything that wasn’t true.”
“Doesn’t mean it was okay.” She settles down on the stairs next to him. Sunghoon wiggles further towards the railing to make room for her. “Everyone deserves a chance to make things right. Even if they’ve been wrong a lot of the time.”
He discreetly wipes his eyes with the sleeve of his sweater. “Even someone like me?”
She chuckles. “Especially someone like you.”
“I’m sorry, too.” Sunghoon doesn’t need to say the multitude of reasons why she deserves an apology. But it makes the aggression between the both of them, as well as a fragment of the guilt in Sunghoon’s heart, dissipate. All that’s left is relief.
She grins, the same feelings evident in her expression. “Apology accepted.”
Sunghoon lets a small smile appear on his lips. He has to practice apologizing more often; the feeling of making amends is pretty satisfying.
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FEBRUARY
“Wonyoung, I don’t know where it is!” You say into the receiver of your phone, one hand holding the device to your face as the other rifles through the belongings in your locker. “And I doubt your bracelet is in here.”
“It has to be! I can’t think of any other place it could’ve gone,” she whines, sniffling. It isn’t her fault she’s home sick today, but she would get through her cold just fine without her lucky bracelet. As far as she’s concerned, however, it’s a matter of life and death.
“I’m sure we’ll find it so you can get over this cold,” you coddle her, still searching past the books and bags of snacks.
“I don’t care about that!” Her stuffy, squeaky voice makes you move the phone away from your ear. “I need it for the charity auction. How else are we going to get all of the items sold if I don’t have it?”
You roll your eyes, grateful she can’t see. “Just wow the PTA and student body with your impeccable charm.”
“Yeah yeah, have you found it yet?”
As you continue your search, an array of your belongings tumble out of your locker. You curse and bend down to pick the contents up. Most of them are some old notes for your current classes, but one makes you stop cold. 
Wonyoung’s words fade into the background as you hold up the photo strip of you and Sunghoon. The snapshots captured a perfect moment in time before the last six months of your relationship made everything take a turn for the worst.
“You can’t flip off the camera, Hoon!” You giggle as the timer starts for the next picture.
“It’s our pictures, so I have every right to use my middle finger whenever I want.” He nestles his head further into your neck, kissing the spot below your ear. You may be cramped sitting on Sunghoon’s lap in the photo booth of the arcade, but there’s no other place you’d rather be than with him.
As you laugh at his subsequent joke, the shutter goes off again.
“Your laugh is one of my favorite sounds, you know.” Sunghoon moves a stray hair away from your face, smiling ear to ear.
“That’s funny,” you say with a smirk. “That smile is my favorite thing ever.”
“Fuck off.” Sunghoon suddenly becomes shy, his cheeks turning pink.
“I swear, cross my heart.” You raise your hand in salute, and Sunghoon intertwines your fingers with his own.
As you seal your promise with a tender kiss to his lips, you hear the final click of the camera, content with whatever comes next.
You muffle your mouth with your hands, stifling the sob that started to leave your lips.
“Babe, you alright?” Wonyoung asks, another sniffle ending her question.
“Yeah I-I’m okay.” You shake off your sadness and stuff the photo strip in your locker again, half-determined to throw it in the trash nearby. “I gotta go, lunch is gonna be over in like fifteen minutes.”
“Okay. Next place would probably be your car, so just let me know later if you find it. Love you,” Wonyoung says at the end of the call.
Putting your phone in your back pocket and walking back towards the courtyard, you hear the rustle of hands clapping and feet stomping. Everyone at their picnic tables, like you, look towards the sounds.
The football team, all huddled up, begin chanting once you make it closer to them.
“Hey girl, you need a date. Why not make it #8?” They say the words in a morale-boosting rhythm, repeating them with vigor until other tables around them start chanting too. When the huddle opens at the center, Chan appears with a bouquet of flowers and a huge grin.
The team stops once he’s in front of you, Chan shy but determined. Once he gives you the bouquet, he asks, “Wanna be my date to the formal?”
You hide your face in your hands, a wide grin on your face in spite of your sudden bashfulness. Public proposals were never your thing, but with how much effort the guy put into the surprise, how could you say no?
“I’d love to,” you answer, giving him a hug as the crowd around you hollers in support. You’re grateful to have had Chan these past months while dealing with your heartbreak, it seemed to be a natural progression of your relationship. And while nothing’s set in stone, you’re happy something’s on the horizon for you.
But if you’re so happy, why is Sunghoon the first thing that pops in your head after you agree to Chan’s offer?
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Thankfully, Wonyoung’s bracelet was in fact in your car behind the passenger seat. How she managed to get it back there was anyone’s guess, but hopefully that meant she would not be so freaked out about the charity auction next week.
In honor of Valentine’s Day, the high school allowed the cheerleading team to host a charity auction every year for a local nonprofit. This year’s was meant to be for the city’s homeless shelter. You worked there last summer to accumulate volunteer hours, and the people you met there had been on your mind every day since. Your goal was to make at least two thousand, but you wish you could do and earn more on your own accord for them. It was important to give back to others when you had so much and took it for granted. Some knew that better than others.
While printing pamphlets and auction tickets, your doorbell rang. You didn’t expect Wonyoung to be up to seeing anyone given her unwell state earlier on the phone, but it was her lucky bracelet. The faster she had it back in her possession the better.
Pulling the door open, the last person you expect to be waiting at your door is Sunghoon. His expression is an amalgamation of emotions, the biggest ones being disbelief and sorrow.
Any time before, back when he was your entire world, you would have pulled him into your arms and kissed away his pain. Even if you hate to admit it to yourself, a part of you still wishes you could.
But while you can be empathetic, you still have to be tough in his presence. Any sign of fragility, and he’ll see the opportunity to creep back in. “Why are you here, Sunghoon?”
“You’re dating him now?”
You furrow your brows in confusion. “What?”
“Chan. You’re together?” You see the tremble of his bottom lip and the lock of his jaw, his composure clearly hanging by a thread. It’s been a long time since you saw Sunghoon so unguarded, you’re unsure if it’s because he’s truly vulnerable or he’s on his last play to win you back.
No matter the reason, you answer with an exasperated sigh. “He just asked me to the formal, okay? He’s my friend.”
“Friends don’t ask friends to go to the dance with flowers.”
You bite your bottom lip, unsure what to say to that. “It doesn’t concern you anymore.”
Sunghoon releases a bitter chuckle, the sound of the laughter dying on his tongue midway. “It does concern me if you’re with someone else.”
“I just told you–”
“I get that.” He runs a hand through his hair, his voice frail at the edges. “But I know what it's like to want you, and I see it when Chan looks at you. And who can blame him right?”
Taking advantage of your stunned silence, Sunghoon keeps going. “When you asked me before why I love you, I didn’t realize how much I took advantage of you. I didn’t appreciate you the way I should’ve, and now I–I miss so many things. I miss the smell of your perfume in my car and the look you’d give me when you were calling me out on my bullshit, which was eighty-five percent of the time. I miss knowing you had my back even if I was in the wrong because you saw the best parts of me on days I didn’t see them at all.
“I miss you, and I love you, and I don’t know how to stop,” Sunghoon whispers. When he tries to step closer to you, you place a hand on his chest, safeguarding some sort of distance and composure between you. He presses his hand over yours, thumb rubbing across the skin on the back of your hand, making you suck in a breath.
It was every word and more that you yearned to hear from him since you parted ways. While the naysayers continued their dialogue about the demise of your relationship, nobody bothered to think about whether or not you wanted to let go in the first place. You had to, or it would’ve been the same patterns occurring over and over.
Maybe this moment, this speech, and this Sunghoon, can be a break in the chain. Maybe he’s truly adamant on turning over a new leaf for the better, for the chance to try again and do it right this time. Would it be so wrong to take the chance and give him the benefit of the doubt one more time?
But who truly knew he would change his ways except for Sunghoon himself? Could you run the risk of the cycle repeating itself again for the future you wanted? How were you meant to believe him this time with history on your side?
You retract your hand from his chest, your heart cracking in the parts he forced you to mend in the first place. “I can’t do this.”
He swallows forcefully and takes a step back, respecting your wishes. “I understand.” He walks down your driveway and to his car, leaving you with the image of his somber, close-lipped smile.
Sunghoon watches you walk back into your house, his heart in tatters. He looks at the bundle of roses sitting in the passenger seat and promises to himself to fight just a little longer. Giving up means losing you forever, and he’ll die before accepting that loss.
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A big banner for the homeless shelter hangs on one of the gymnasium walls. The cheerleaders continue placing decor around the space for tomorrow’s auction, some hand-drawn by the girls and others donated from the PTA in previous years. You look around with your clipboard, items checked off throughout the day to signal your progress. With less than twenty-four hours to go before the auction, it was imperative to create the perfect atmosphere to sell as many items as possible.
Wonyoung skips over to you, her pigtails swinging in the air and a cluster of colorful streamers dangling from her hands. “Where do you want these, babe?”
“Lining the front of the bleachers. That way once the tables are set up we don’t have to work around them.” You check off another bullet, 
“You got it boss!” She winks at you, her expression teasing. Before she can walk away though, Principal Han and Coach Chae walk into the gym. Coach Chae has a bouquet while Principal Han holds a thin piece of paper.
The two gentlemen walk up to you and Wonyoung, beaming. “Great turn of events ladies,” Principal Han says. “The auction has been canceled.”
“What,” Wonyoung yells. The two men flinch at her reaction, but Coach Chae laughs off his reaction.
“No need to worry, Miss Jang,” Coach Chae responds. “There will still be a gala. Just not an auction. Think of it as a celebratory gala, if you will.”
“What do you mean?” You ask. You press your clipboard tighter to your chest, anxiety spiking. You put your heart into this event for the success of the fundraiser. Why was it suddenly crashing down?
“Someone already donated more than enough to reach your goal. Five thousand, to be exact.”
A silent gasp leaves your lips. The clipboard almost slips from your fingers, but Wonyoung manages to catch it before it clatters onto the gym floor.
”Holy sh—sorry. Holy moly!” Wonyoung exclaims, a smile matching the ones on the older gentlemen’s faces.
“Congratulations, girls. Now you can kick your feet up and enjoy the festivities tomorrow all thanks to your mystery donor,” Principal Han says.
”Mystery donor?” The mix of emotions in your stomach morphs to confused curiosity. “They didn’t leave their name on the check?”
”No. Just the card that came with the flowers,” Coach Chae answers. He hands the bouquet of roses and the comment card to you, the floral smell suddenly wafting in your nose.
You could recognize the script anywhere, the slants and slopes of the handwriting belonging to only one person. The contents of the card make your heart swell and sink deeper, causing you to question everything once more.
For reminding me to cherish all the things I took for granted.
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MARCH
On the night of the Spring Formal, a week had passed since that day in the gymnasium which upended a majority of your feelings. Your thoughts have run rampant in your mind since, regrets and doubts sitting at the forefront of your brain.
Your mother was fixing the last pieces of your hair into the intricate bun she created. Looking in the mirror, the tendrils of your bangs falling out from the hairstyle frame your face. Grace exudes from your makeup and the dress you’ve chosen, the strapless champagne gown the centerpiece of your entire look.
”You’re a vision, honey,” She says, her eyes bright in the hallway mirror behind you.
You may look beautiful, but your thoughts make you feel small, unsure of everything you thought you knew or wanted before.
You had not seen Sunghoon since that night on your front porch almost two weeks ago, your ex choosing to respect your wishes and stay away just as you requested. Now, in spite of all the ways he vexed you to no end, you missed him just like he said he missed you. Maybe you suppressed yourself from grieving the end of your relationship, jumping headfirst into a new friendship with Chan and the other priorities in your life. Or maybe it was because he still had your entire heart, even if you wished he didn’t.
”Chan should be here any minute,” your mother says, interrupting your thoughts.
You respond with a nod and small smile, fidgeting with the top of your dress to conceal some of your cleavage.
Your mother frowns. ”Honey, what’s wrong?” She puts her hands on your shoulders, her presence the right amount of concerned and warm.
”Do you think people can change?”
She gives you a knowing smile, the topic of conversation not being said out loud but obvious to the both of you. “When someone has the desire to, they can. Especially when they have a good reason to.”
The doorbell rings, and she kisses you on the cheek. “I’ll let you get that. I’m gonna run and grab the camera.”
You answer the door, half-expecting to see Chan with flowers and his signature grin. What you find, however, makes your heart constrict with surprise and longing that you didn’t expect to feel so strongly.
Sunghoon in a three-piece suit, hair slicked back, and a corsage looks like the picture-perfect man. When you envisioned this night before, the image of him in front of you always came to mind. And now, you could not be closer to and further from those expectations.
“I wanted to give you this before…I mean, I already bought it, and you deserve to have it.” He twiddles the corsage between his hands. His eyes ask for explicit permission before he places it on your wrist.
Without a second thought, you nod.
Sunghoon steps closer, relieved to have received the green light. The tension between you is palpable in the air, flickering hot and reflecting the same feelings you harbored weeks ago when you were in the same position then. He carefully puts the strap around your wrist, tightening it until it’s snug. 
The golden-trimmed roses match your dress flawlessly, so much so you wonder how he managed to remember the color of the dress you dreamed of for this night.
Like he can read your mind, he says, “You’ve been talking about this dance since the start of the school year.” He laughs, the sound hollow.
“Thank you,” you say, the two words expanding far beyond the roses on your wrist.
Thank you for the flowers. Thank you for going above and beyond with that check. Thank you for showing you’re trying.
The smile he gives you touches his eyes, the edges of his expression almost golden in the light of the sunset. “It’s the least I could do.”
Without thinking, he’s so close you can feel the rising pace of his and your breath mixing together. It would be so easy to close the distance, touch his lips with yours, and fall back into his embrace with no regard for the next minute.
Before you can contemplate it further, you see Chan out of the corner of your eye walking up your driveway. His mouth is in a firm line and his posture reflects his discomfort.
Sunghoon steps away from you. He acknowledges Chan with a nod, not terse or disrespectful, but clearly disappointed. He kisses the back of your palm quickly and lets it go. “Have fun tonight, okay?”
Before he walks away for good, leaving you and Chan alone, he finishes with, “By the way, you look breathtaking.”
As Chan gets closer and Sunghoon heads down the road to his car, you think maybe your ex is taking all of your breath with him.
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Sunghoon downs the drink in the plastic cup. The tinge of alcohol Jay put in his drink can’t seem to take away the burn of watching you and Chan dance together. The DJ for the dance is playing  an uptempo number. Thankfully you’re not holding each other close, but it’s still a punch to the stomach seeing you smiling with a guy that isn’t him. In a gym filled with so many of his peers, he’s never felt so alone.
He drove to the dance by himself, Jake and Jay too entangled in their own love lives to soften the blow of Sunghoon’s continued misery. Heeseung and his girlfriend remain loved up in their own private corner of the dance floor. Sunghoon isn’t jealous or petty, though, although he’s well-accustomed to both emotions at this point. All he feels is some semblance of gratitude for the people enjoying the festivities of the night with a person they care about.
Heeseung’s girlfriend steps away from her partner with a kiss on his lips, somehow sensing Sunghoon’s despair. She walks over to him, a sad smile on her face as she approaches the lone guy at his idle table. “No luck, huh?”
Sunghoon nods and tips his drink at her. “You could say that.”
Heeseung comes up in record time, Sunghoon’s teammate unable to stay away from his lover for too long. He clears his throat and looks toward the younger guy with quiet condolences. “Listen, Hoon. Just talk to her and be honest. Stop dancing around your feelings.”
Sunghoon scoffs into his cup, the sound echoing in the plastic. “As if I could steal her away from beefcake over there. Like your missus said, she’s better off.”
“You know I apologized for that!” Heeseung’s girlfriend mirrors Sunghoon’s reaction, puffing out a breath of air and rolling her eyes. “And if that’s the case, why has she been looking over here at least every five minutes?”
Sunghoon glances past the rim of his cup and catches you staring just as Heeseung’s girlfriend makes her point.
Your eyes are filled with a plethora of unspoken feelings, ones Sunghoon may have the words for but cannot manage to speak. Why did words hold so much more power when it was too late to say them? Did he still have time at all, or was the opportunity to be transparent long gone? It’s too much to process; all he can do is look away from you, the guilt hitting him square in his chest.
Heeseung and his girlfriend share a conspiratory look, plotting something. Sunghoon takes a gulp of air, unsure if he wants to know exactly what they’re planning.
“Be on the rooftop in ten minutes. And make sure you know what you’re gonna say, idiot,” Heeseung’s girlfriend commands, her smirk flashing wickedly under the gymnasium lights.
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“Hey!” Heeseung and his girlfriend run up to your spot by the punch bowl. You were absentmindedly staring at the fruit concoction in the tub while Chan had raced off to the bathroom, promising to be back in five.
“What’s up?” You ask, giving his girlfriend a polite and acknowledging smile.
“Something happened on the rooftop with one of the girls on the squad. I think she got food poisoning or something,”
“Yeah,” Heeseung’s girlfriend comments. “Wonyoung told us to get you ‘cause she needs some help bringing the poor girl back downstairs.”
You roll your eyes and set your cup on the plastic table in front of you. If it’s Leeseo again, you may just have to kill her.
The couple follows close behind as you make it to the stairwell door leading up to the rooftop. You wonder why the two didn’t help Wonyoung in the first place, but maybe the girl in question requested you personally and didn’t want to be embarrassed by being assisted by strangers.
Opening the rooftop entrance, you see Sunghoon standing near the edge, kicking gravel off the side of the building. Your heart seizes up, glad but caught off-guard to be seeing him right now.
In an instant, the door closes behind you, locking from the outside. You bang on it, unsure what’s happening. “What the fuck, guys?”
“You’re not coming out until we hear some talking!”
The sudden quiet is deafening, the only reprieve being the breeze passing through the trees surrounding the school. You run your hands across your arms, feeling the chill now that you’re outside but also unsure of what to do in this situation.
Sunghoon immediately sheds his jacket and walks over to you. He waits with the article in his hands before you nod meekly. He wraps it around your shoulders protectively, making sure your arms go through the sleeves. “Better?”
“Much, thank you,” you whisper.
Sunghoon looks deeply into your eyes, knocking any subsequent words from your conscious mind. You bite your lip instinctively, tense from his lack of distance between your bodies. Why did he still have the capability to steal your train of thought without trying?
He blows out a breath, the sound of his voice flimsy in the spring air. “When I first joined the basketball team, I didn’t know if and how I would measure up,” Sunghoon begins. “I was fifteen and terrified of playing next to someone as good as Heeseung and always being compared to him.
“And I took all those worries about being not good enough and took it out on everyone. I let it ruin the most perfect thing in my life because I thought acting like I didn’t care would stop me from feeling insecure. What an idiot, right?”
Sunghoon brushes a free bang from your face. His eyes are glassy, the vulnerability he’s showing you at an all-time high. “I should’ve realized the girl I love didn’t care if I was the best or the worst basketball player ever, as long as I was hers and didn’t forget it. I just didn’t know it then. And now that I’ve realized what a fool I’ve been, all I want now is to spend the rest of my time making it up to her.”
The confession knocks any remaining resolve out of you, unable to bear the pain in his face or the uncertainty that hangs in the air. You slam your lips into his, the kiss both bruising and healing in the same motion. It rejuvenates all the parts of you that had been withered away since the night you broke up and couldn’t be revived without him.
Sunghoon feels the effects of the kiss as well, his gasps and whimpers exemplifying his surprise and relief to have you back in his arms. Holding you, kissing you, being with you, you can tell he’s worried the moment’s a figment of his imagination. If he doesn’t cherish it, you’ll float away. And he can’t survive that for a second time.
You part for air, but your lips still ghost over each other’s, unable to be parted now that he’s within your reach again.
With your voice laced with the unshed tears in your eyes, you ask, “What took you so damn long, you idiot?”
Sunghoon can only respond with a joyful laugh and another kiss to your lips, making up for his unsaid apologies and shit timing with his mouth.
Now that your body is against his, your hearts beating rapidly but once-again in tune with each other, he’s certain now he’ll never be stupid enough to forget your worth and let you go again. Because the pleasure he used to call home is back in his life, and he couldn’t feel more at ease.
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Sunghoon’s laughing when he unlocks the front door of his house, his face in a permanent grin since you kissed a few hours prior. You spent the time before ending up here driving around town, too enraptured with each other to focus on your friends or the rest of the dance’s festivities. You didn’t leave without Heeseung giving Sunghoon a slap to the back and Wonyoung crying at your reconciliation.
The house is quiet, a result of Sunghoon’s parents being abroad for the past few days. “Did I tell you how beautiful you look, by the way?” Sunghoon mentions again when he closes the door behind you. He immediately pulls you in by the waist, showering the skin of your neck in kisses.
You giggle and weave your hands into his hair, a gasp leaving you when he takes your earlobe between his teeth. “Probably for the hundredth time by now.”
“Well you do.” He presses another kiss to the spot below your ear, making you shiver. “And I’m not gonna stop saying it.”
You smirk and move your hands to both sides of his face, forcing you to look at him. “I didn’t expect the night to go like this.”
“I hope that’s a good thing.” His voice is teasing, but his eyes are suddenly lined with anxiety. His body tenses in your embrace, the worry that you’re having second thoughts weighing on his happiness.
You ease his doubts with a deep kiss, holding him close and hoping that assures him you’re not going anywhere. “A great thing.”
The smile you love so much appears once he’s at peace, and peppers your entire face with kisses. You laugh out loud, but he can tell you love the adoration he’s providing you.
You could definitely get used to this new Sunghoon, the night already filled with so much magic.
“I’ll be back.” He grins wide, canines on full display. Another kiss punctuates the sentence. “Don’t go anywhere.” Another.
You laugh out loud and nod your head. He dramatically holds onto your hand until he’s forced to let go. He runs down the hallway and into his bedroom, closing the door behind him and leaving you in the sitting room of his house.
Twenty minutes later, you’re sitting on the loveseat in the sitting room when Sunghoon comes back out.
“My lady, follow me.” He bows and holds out his hand for you to take, and you smile ear to ear when you lace your fingers with his. You’re unsure what’s waiting for you on the other side of his bedroom door, but you know it must be another surprise your boyfriend has gone above and beyond to amaze you with.
Surely enough, it makes you gasp out loud and press your free hand to your chest.
Sunghoon’s bedroom is showered in a radiant glow from dozens of candles, all different sizes but the same light creating a sweet, calming ambience. Fairy lights hang on the walls, aiding in the atmosphere he’s created. Music plays at a low sound from the speakers near the television, Sunghoon’s phone hooked up to the system. To top it all off, there’s another bouquet of white roses sitting on his side table, some petals lining the edges of the floor around his bed.
When you thought about this night in your dreams, it always ended here, being so in love. He’s made those dreams come true, right down to the letter, and you could not be more in love with him than in this moment.
Sunghoon comes closer. He presses his chest to your back, encasing your body with his arms and kissing your neck once again. You try to stifle the sob that comes out, but he hears it and retracts. “Shit, do you not like it? I can blow the candles out and–”
You turn in his embrace, shaking your head furiously. “No, I love it.” You wipe your tears, laughing at the reaction he’s pulled out of you. “I’m just–it doesn’t feel like it’s real.”
“It is.” He takes the side of your face in his hand, rubbing his thumb across your cheek. “And I’ll remind you every day if you need me to.”
“I love you so much,” you respond, kissing the inside of his palm. You pull him closer, reconnecting your lips with his. You feel whole in a way you haven’t in weeks, knowing now for certain this happiness coupled with Sunghoon’s love is the perfect combination to sustain you.
“I love you too,” he says in between kisses, his mouth turning sloppy. You feel his growing hardness against you. It had been months since the last time you were intimate. You think as Sunghoon pulls you in closer than before, groaning into your mouth, that tonight’s the perfect time to reconnect in more ways than just emotionally.
“I missed you so much,” you moan, tugging his jacket from his shoulders and letting it fall to the floor. You run your arms across his chest, still covered by the cotton button up he’s wearing, but you quickly make do with the buttons on his shirt to feel the skin underneath. 
He shivers under your touch, but he manages to find the zipper of your dress and lower it down until the dress easily slips from your body. You step out of it, careful not to tread over the fabric. Your focus remains on  undressing Sunghoon until he’s as naked as you are, wearing only your underwear and shoes. He’s shirtless thanks to you undoing his buttons, but you want all of him exposed.
You try to pull down the zipper of his pants, but he stops you, his eyes lust-filled but patient. “This night is about you, baby. Not me.”
“Please, let me touch you.” You whine, holding onto the belt-loops on his pants.
“Not yet.” He moves you both back until you’re at the edge of the bed. He motions for you to sit down. Once you do, he gets onto his knees in front of you, the man you love on a mission. “Let me make you feel good first.”
He takes the heels off of your feet and sets them down beside your dress. When he does, he begins his slow torture of kissing up your ankles to the insides of your thighs. You lay your body back on his bed, whimpering and body on the verge of shaking when he finally pulls the underwear from your legs.
“Fuck, Hoon,” you say out loud when he presses a kiss to your clit, taking the nub between his lips and sucking tenderly while rubbing his hands on the curves of your hips. He takes one hand to reach out and grab one of your breasts, expertly taking your nipple between his thumb and index finger as his tongue licks along the insides of your center. “Please don’t stop,” you whisper.
“Wasn’t planning on it, my love.” His tongue moves at a faster pace, matching the writhing of your hips crashing into his face to gain every ounce of pleasure he’s giving you.
Before, you wouldn’t have imagined being back in this bedroom with him, and now there’s no other place you wanted to exist.
“Hoon, please. I want you,” you say, one hand clutching his comforter and the other entangled in his hair.
“You have me, always.” His tongue slips inside of your pussy, the feeling of the muscle against your walls causing you to cry out in pleasure.
“I’m not moving until you come, baby. I know you’re close.” The pleasure has been building since the moment he had his mouth wrapped around your neck when you stepped into his house. And now, with his mouth buried inside of you and sweet words accompanying such dirty actions fuels your body’s speedrun to your release.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you curse, your orgasm hitting you like the crash of a wave before you go underwater. But you don’t care to drown if it feels this satisfying.
You laugh breathlessly when the end of your release comes. Sunghoon wipes your essence off of his lips with the back of his hand, smiling bashfully. Every action of his before is incredibly contrary to his shy expression, but you love it.
Ridding himself of his pants, Sunghoon’s cock springs free from the constricting article of clothing. The tip is leaking with precum, but he isn’t in a rush to jump on top of you like the many times before when you both were too frustrated to worry with foreplay.
He kisses you with all he has when he crawls on top of you. His tongue inside of your mouth fills it with the taste of your slick. In a blip, he has a condom in his hand and puts it on with quick skill. There’s no need to prep you, your previous orgasm leaving you wet and waiting for him to line up with your entrance and slip inside.
He does it expertly. Both of you tremble from the feeling you long forgot felt so otherworldly, his cock making a home within your walls and your body adjusting to the delicious stretch.
The song in the background fills your ears with the sounds of a slow-strumming guitar, reflecting the thrust of Sunghoon’s hips. Your hips meet his when he’s filled you to the hilt, causing you to sigh. “Fuck, just like that.”
“You’re so beautiful,” Sunghoon whispers between thrusts, moaning sweet nothings into your mouth. “I love you so much.”
“I love you,” you whisper in kind, gasping. The tip of his cock kisses your cervix with each press of his hips, exiting slowly and pushing back inside until there’s no space left to accommodate him.
How could you be so filled, figuratively and literally, by the love he had to offer you? For anyone else who’s never known the feelings stirring inside of you, a mixture of sinful pleasure and pure happiness, you feel sorry for them. If everyone in the world did, they might have been labeled as two extra wonders of the world.
“Fuck, I’m gonna come again,” you say, clutching onto his hips. You bite down on the skin of his shoulder, releasing your moans into his skin as his pace speeds up.
“Yes, baby, give it to me,” he groans, gulping hard and body frantic to take you both to the your climaxes. You feel the stars behind your eyes when your second orgasm comes, a long cry leaving your lips. Sunghoon matches it with a broken moan, the sound coming out in fragments as he spills inside of the condom.
Sunghoon lathers your face in deep, heartfelt kisses before pulling out. He walks to the bathroom quickly, throwing away the condom in the trash and grabbing a cloth to clean you up. He runs the fabric between your legs, careful not to press down too hard and overstimulate you.
You both crawl under the covers after he throws the rag in his hamper, your body immediately snuggling into his. The crown of your head receives another blitz of kisses, your smile hurting your cheeks from how wide it goes.
“I love you,” Sunghoon says, the words coming without a second thought.
And with no regrets on your mind or in your heart, resolute in your decision to forgive him, you say, “I love you, too, Hoon. Always.”
People could always change if they had the determination and inspiration to do so, and you know that for sure now. In  the arms of the one you love, that fact could not be more true.
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@mini-mews @jayparked @heesuncore @yoursjaeyun @sungbeams @dreamiestay
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fuji-sen · 2 months ago
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the 'evil imposter' just wants to be a baker!
hello little sprouts! Just recently remembered my love(?) or interest with the sagau concepts!
ɞ﹒₊˚ This is partially inspired by the manhwa "A Divorced Evil Lady Bakes Cakes!" ɞ﹒₊˚ Imposter AU's, there is a bit angst in the first three nations but you'll be fineeeee, hopefully. ɞ﹒₊˚ Female!Reader x Selective!Various
divider used is made by @saradika-graphics
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[NAME'S] RECIPE AND INGREDIENTS BOOK!
nobody's allowed to touch >:0, especially you damn acolytes, stop trying to kill me! If found please return to [Name] [Lastname], definitely not the creator nor the imposter!
Prologue; The Foodie turned Imposter?!
When a foodie from the real world gets sucked into one of their comfort games, popular hoyoverse game's middle child Genshin Impact, it's not all fun and playtime as one would have expected. Finding out you share a face with the most divine God and Mother of the world, the creator, you are forced to fight for the right to live, so that you can eat and cook for another day!
Part 1: Sunsettia Part 2: Sweet Flowers Part 3: Mint Tea Part 4: hilichurl style stew > 4.5 special: adventures of a pyro slime Part 5: Burning Pinecones Part 6: Ginisang Ampalaya Part 7: Dawn Winery's Grapevine + Fruity Skewers Part 8: Buttery Mamon Part 9: Benny's Adventure Team + Wolfhooks POLL: Pyro Slime Name (Closed) LINK Part 10: TBA. . .
˙ . ꒷ 🍰 . 𖦹˙—˙ . ꒷ 🍰 . 𖦹˙—˙ . ꒷ 🍰 . 𖦹˙—˙ . ꒷ 🍰 . 𖦹˙—˙ . ꒷ 🍰 . 𖦹˙—
Volume 1; TBA
Chapter 1: The start of [Name]'s Recipes!
more coming soon. . .
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ɞ﹒₊˚ Taglist! If you want to be added to the taglist, you can comment here or in the LATEST chapter! This is so that its easier for me to compare which comment is old or new, or those who have or haven't been added yet. ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧
Also, please don't ask to be add in the taglist through my personal messages if possible. If it looks like im ignoring you guys in the comments about being added, im really not (╥ᆺ╥;), it's just I hold off on adding you or replying on your comments until I'm nearly done with the new chapters. I started avoiding chatting or entertaining messages especially from those that don't follow me, because I don't wanna get hacked or smth like that..
taglist:
@fantasyhopperhea @rhoswen-drake @cchiiwinkle @aman3kkun @coffee-or-hot-cocoa @bunniotomia @esthelily
@earth-to-name @fandomfan-102 @kh1ffy @jiyeons-closet @dragontammerz / @mercy-not-merci @aryuunachigiri @randomnatics @alexx197197 @keirennyx @vianitry @game-savvy @laviniadraws @altumsomnum @ghostlysyntaxed @kangyeonie @resident-cryptid @floofeh-purpi @allmightycucumber @wolfiafuntime @ofalexis @jiaoqiuthefoxian @is-it-night-or-day @lilacoaks @brainemptynothoughts @blackstar-gazer @existing-apparently @ohnoivefallen @yae-yu127 @creativecupcake @crazydreamcat @mysstical-siren @ijustwannabeheldbro @inaaya1inaaya @eyeless-kun @theautisticduck @depressivecomforts
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sommerbueckers · 5 months ago
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HI BABY OKAY SO I HAVE A LITTLE ONE SHOT IDEA⁉️⁉️
so basically reader and paige know each other but aren’t exactly close just flirted a few times wtv wtv. so reader goes to a game and she’s wearing the other teams jersey😋😋 after the game paige sees her, they hang out have a few drinks and hookup.. and paige is like “take this shit off” then pulls the other teams jersey off reader
ALSO CAN I BE 🤍 ANON??
yes ofc you can !!
𝐚/𝐧: okay i literally love this idea , and congrats on being my first anon love !
𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞
➪ 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭
THREE DAYS AGO you had been sitting quietly in your apartment, the tv displaying an episode of Gilmore Girls that you, if prompted, could recite word for word. Leftover Chinese food sat cold upon the coffee table, your roommate occasionally returning to her forgotten bowl of beef broccoli.
“What’re you doing this weekend?” her voice abruptly cut through the silence, drowning out the show which could hardly be heard to begin with.
You leaned your elbow against the arm of the couch, shrugging your shoulders. “Probably nothing.”
“Per usual,” she snorted, amused. After reaching to pause the tv, she pulled her legs up under her and twisted around to face you. Her face held a look of mischief and you typically tried to steer away from any kind of conversation with her at this point, but there was nowhere for you to go. “Do you wanna take a little road trip?” she raised her eyebrows, hopefully.
“A road trip?” you repeated, your tone laced with confusion. “It’s the middle of February and you wanna take a road trip?”
Excitedly nodding her head, she scooted closer to you. “You know how i’ve been talking to Noa a lot lately?” She hadn’t even given you a chance to respond before she continued on. “Well her school plays UConn on Friday night and she said she could get me courtside tickets! How sick is that?!”
Courtside tickets to any game would be exciting, but courtside tickets to see UConn Paige play was an entirely different level of excitement.
You had met the basketball star at a penthouse party last summer. It was being hosted by some trust fund NYU student whose parents were out of town. It was said to be ‘select invite only,’ the hierarchy groups of the social food chain would be there along with whoever else they wanted to bring. You originally weren’t supposed to go, but after finding out your name was on the invite list, you and a few friends couldn’t think of any better way to spend the night.
Paige had been wearing a white crop top and a pair of jorts, and she looked far too good not to entertain for the night. All night you two had mingled and flirted, dancing together and taking shot after shot. Nothing came out of it other than another follower on Instagram, but you were just happy to have made the night a good one.
“Yeah, that’s pretty cool,” you admitted quietly. You leaned forward to grab the box of shrimp fried rice, aimlessly picking at it with your fork in an attempt to hide your clear interest in the conversation.
“Pretty cool?” your roommate gaped, “it’s fucking awesome! I finally get to meet her and you get to see Paige play in person.” She was practically bouncing off the walls at this point, her cheeks red from how hard she was smiling. She was biting her lip, no doubt to keep from squealing.
You sucked your teeth unconvincingly, your mind scattered as it tried to provide you with a quick response. “Why would I wanna see Paige?” you frowned, avoiding her eyes.
“Aren’t you guys friends?”
“Why would you think that?”
“Well you follow each other on Insta, and you’re always watching her games,” she shrugged innocently, thankfully not picking up on the way your eyes refused to meet hers or the blush that had unknowingly crept onto your face.
“Oh,” you mumbled, “well we aren’t.”
Unfortunately, it was the truth. You and Paige hadn't interacted with each other since the party and you chalked the night up to the two of you just having some drunken fun.
"Oh, so, do you wanna come down or no?"
You weighed your options, though the answer was clear. Stay in your apartment with nothing to do other than binge watch shows by yourself or join your roommate on a trip down to good ol' Storrs, Connecticut. You sighed and leaned back against the couch, crossing your arms.
"When do we leave?"
⋆。˚ ☁︎ ˚。⋆。
That was how you ended up sitting courtside at a UConn versus Creighton game, a white and blue jersey over your sweatshirt, the number seven displayed on the front. Your roommate had insisted that you both wear Noa’s jersey, that way she felt ‘double the support.’ You didn’t mind despite the fact that you couldn’t name a single player on the team.
The game ended with UConn sweeping Creighton, you had tuned out sometime during the third quarter after accepting the fact that the blue jays wouldn’t be able to come back. You hadn’t even noticed the game was over until the blonde beside you stood up with a groan, throwing her hands in the air.
“That’s it? It’s over just like that?” she turned to you with wide eyes.
You shrugged your shoulders, “Guess so.”
She was beyond upset, you would’ve thought she had been the one on the court. She went on a tangent after the teams disappeared into the locker room, expressing her opinion on why the game should be longer and what Creighton should’ve done. She had no idea what she was talking about, and you knew that, but still listened nonetheless.
“Are we getting something to eat?” you asked when you were sure she was done talking.
“Yeah,” she sighed out, “not sure what Noa wants to do but we can figure it out when she gets out here.”
“Okay, ‘m gonna use the bathroom real quick.” You stood from your seat, brushing off your jersey and heading toward the bathrooms.
Never before had you been to Gampel Pavilion, and curiosity got the best of you as you disregarded the large ‘Restrooms’ sign for a more enticing place. You ambled down one of the corridors, looking at all the pictures and awards that were up on the walls. Pictures of alumni in all the different uniforms through the decades, different championship trophies and plaques.
Your eyes stopped on one picture in particular; it was from the 80s and the men had bright smiles on their faces as they held up a large trophy. Their shorts were incredibly short, and you laughed to yourself as you wondered how they’d ever played in them. Before you could bring your attention away on your own accord, a familiar voice did it for you.
“You’re not supposed to be back here.”
There stood Paige Bueckers in all her six foot glory, her eyebrows knitted together as she stared at you. For having just played a game, she looked amazing. Her hair was still pulled up in its usual braid and ponytail but it was now partially covered with a gray beanie, she had put on a jacket and sweats over her uniform and looked about ready to slip out without being seen. That’s probably what she was doing.
“Oh sorry, I—I didn’t know,” you shook your head, embarrassed.
“Nah it’s cool, usually it doesn’t matter but they’re tryna clear the place out now,” she explained with a shrug, a keychain jingling from the movement of her bag on her back.
You nodded your head, silently walking past her to make your way back to the gym.
“Wait,” she called out.
You whipped your head around quicker than you should’ve, your face holding a look of innocence as you waited, no, hoped for her to say what you thought she was going to say.
“Don’t I know you?”
‘Yeah, we met last summer,’ was what you would’ve said had you been able to think straight. Instead, you stared at her dumbly until she finally spoke again.
“I think I do, we met at that one kid’s party last year,” she said. Was she trying to remind you? Like anyone would forget meeting Paige Bueckers at a party.
“Yeah, yeah I remember,” you nodded. You rubbed your forehead with a breathless laugh, thinking of what to say next. “That night was pretty blurry to be honest…”
That’s all you could come up with?
It wasn't even the truth either. You remembered everything from that night; every look, every touch.
“No yeah I get what you mean,” she laughed, “don’t even remember how I got home.”
You nodded your head to feign agreement because you knew exactly how you had gotten home.
“Creighton fan, huh?” Paige asked, gesturing to your jersey.
You glanced down, pulling the material away so you could examine it yourself. “No uh, my friend’s girlfriend or — whatever is on the team and we just came down to support her.”
“Ah, so I take it you’re not a UConn fan either?”
You laughed, “I’ve watched a couple games.”
Another lie -- you've watched every game.
“I’ll take it,” Paige smiled. “It was good seeing you again,” she said, beginning to back up. Had you not been so captured by the shade of blue that her eyes held, you would’ve missed the way they'd scanned your body. Running up and down your legs, gently biting her lip. Her eyes once again met yours and she flashed you that signature smirk before she turned around and headed out.
⋆。˚ ☁︎ ˚。⋆。
"This place is fucking packed," Noa commented, surveying the bar with narrowed eyes.
"Yeah, i'm gonna go see if I can get us a table."
Your roommate left your side and approached the hostess podium, you and Noa now being alone near the door. She awkwardly rocked back and forth on her feet, hands resting comfortably in her pockets. "Y'all came down here together?" she asked suddenly.
"Yeah, got here a little bit before the game actually," you smiled.
Noa hummed, "Hope you aren't driving back tomorrow," she said with a small laugh.
"What do you mean?"
"The couch at the apartment isn't the most comfortable," she sighed, scratching the back of her neck, "so I was just saying you'd probably be better off making blondie drive."
As if on cue, said blondie motioned for the two of you to follow her. "The wait was like forty-five minutes but the bar has the full menu," she said and gestured to three open seats right beside each other. You all gladly took them, sighing as you finally put your feet to rest.
The bartender came around and took your orders and the three of you finally settled in. Conversation came easy, you and Noa bonded over all things basketball. You discussed the calls that were made during the game, how a lot of them were made in favor of UConn because it was their home gym and all. While it hadn't been a complete lie, UConn would've won even without those calls.
You sipped casually on your martini, letting your two friends fall into their own conversation while you busied yourself elsewhere. Your gaze moved from table to table, scouting out someone who could turn your night around from the eventful one it had been. Once again, as though the man above had been listening solely to you, Paige and her teammates waltzed right in.
She had changed out of her basketball uniform, now dressed in a pair of cargos with a long sleeve and a vest.
Instinctively, you straightened up in your chair. They'd seated themselves on the other end of the bar, Paige sitting perfectly in your line of view. You felt like a creep the way you were watching her, but you couldn't help it. There had been a point in time where Paige had been focused on you. Her hands roaming your body as you danced together, her eyes locked on yours only, determined to make you laugh. You smiled unconsciously at the memory of that night, wishing over and over that you could relive it.
When you looked up again Paige was gone, missing from the rest of her group.
"If I didn't know any better, i'd think you were following me," her voice came from close behind you, and you found her standing there with an untouched drink in her hand.
"Well if I remember correctly, I was here first," you smiled, tilting your head. You were hoping you looked cute doing it and not dopey like you had pictured yourself. "So who's really doing the following?"
Paige chuckled, "You got me there." She moved to take the seat beside you, glancing around for a sign that someone was already sitting there. When she didn't find one, she proceeded to get comfortable. You watched contently, sipping your drink with crossed legs and waiting for her to settle. "That's the girlfriend?"
You nodded your head without looking behind you.
"Whatchu got?" you pointed at her glass.
"Dirty Shirley."
"Ah, your favorite."
Paige pursed her lips, a smile threatening to break through. "How'd you know that?" she asked.
"It was all you drank that night," you reminded her.
"Hm," she smirked, "thought you said you didn't remember much."
'Fuck,' you thought to yourself.
"I remember bits and pieces," you shrugged, distracting yourself with your drink.
The blonde playfully narrowed her eyes. She remembered everything from that night, she had only pretended not to because she felt embarrassed that she remembered everything and you didn't. She had visited your Instagram multiple times in the weeks following that, cursing herself for not having the courage to ask you out or do anything other than pointlessly flirt with you.
But here she was, being presented with the opportunity to turn things around, and she planned to take advantage of it.
"So tell me, what else do you remember?"
⋆。˚ ☁︎ ˚。⋆。
Two martinis and four rounds of shots later, you and Paige found yourselves in an intense game of pool. She was currently beating you, her only objection to sink the eight ball in while you still had a few balls left to knock in.
You leaned over with focused eyes, carefully lining up the stick with the ball. You could feel Paige's presence beside you, her breath hot on your ear as she spoke. "She's crumbling," the blonde teased. She sensed your stress and she was feeding off it, a thrilled expression upon her face. "Will she sink it? Or will she fumble?"
You pulled the stick back, and with a swift movement, jolted it forward. The ball flew quickly across the table, ricocheting off the side and rolling back toward the middle.
"Oh! She shoots, she misses!" Paige commentated enthusiastically, the alcohol running through her system and giving her a buzz. She pointed her finger annoyingly in your face as she backed away, getting closer and closer to her position behind the eight ball. She mimicked the stance you had done; leaning over the table and zeroing in on the ball.
A beat of silence passed and Paige still hadn't moved, her eyes slowly moved upwards to meet yours. A smile broke out onto her lips, she stood up and twirled the stick around in her hands. "How about we make this a little more interesting," she suggested lowly.
"Interesting how?" you snorted, leaning against the table.
She stepped closer to you, towering over you with a gaze that had you practically foaming at the mouth. If Paige wanted to take you on the pool table right at that moment, you would've let her. Of course, that was just the alcohol talking, and there was quite a lot of it.
"I need one shot to win, and I want a reward when I do."
"A reward, huh?" I raised my eyebrows, noticing her step closer, "What kind of reward do you want?"
"I can think of a few things..." she murmured. Paige was trying hard to be seductive right now, and she couldn't tell if it was working or not. She had already failed to hookup with you once last year at the party, and she'd be damned if she failed again.
"Like what?" you took a step closer, batting your eyelashes at her. You were teasing her and she knew it. The alcohol coursing through your system was giving you a confidence boost like no other, and you couldn't think of a better way to make use of it other than flirting with Paige.
"Well for starters," she sighed, pulling gently on the Creighton jersey that you had yet to change out of, "I don't wanna see this anymore tonight."
"Oh yeah?" you quirked a brow at her.
"Yeah, and when I win, i'm gonna take it off you," she said confidently.
You could feel yourself sweating beneath your clothes, the pool stick in your hand suddenly becoming difficult to grip. You cleared your throat when she finally stepped back, a knowing smile tugging at her lips as she repositioned herself on the other side of the table and focused on the ball. With a quick and calculated shot, the ball swiped cleanly across the table before falling into the desired slot.
The noise from the bar seemed to fade away as the realization of Paige's victory sunk in. People drunkenly moved around; dancing, singing, cheering at whatever was playing on tv, but none of that mattered to you anymore. You were unable to focus on anything other than Paige's blue eyes staring into yours, the color seemingly darker than it was just moments ago.
You rolled your eyes and set the stick down on the table, reaching for the hem of the jersey to take it off. Paige's hands quickly found your wrists, her face contorted in utter confusion. "What're you doing?" she asked.
You were playing with her.
"Taking the jersey off, isn't that what you wanted?" you frowned innocently.
Paige scoffed, "Don't test me. Let's go back to mine, you can take it off there."
You both bid your goodbyes to your friends, your roommate tossed you a questioning look that you dismissed with the wave of your hand. You waited impatiently outside for an Uber, Paige holding you close in attempt to shield you from the cold. Her eyes were fixed on your lips, the very ones that were trembling, begging to be warmed up by hers. From the moment she had seen you in the hallway she immediately recognized you, she'd recognize that ass anywhere. She had planned to send you a message tomorrow, running into you tonight had been unexpected but not unwelcome. It just gave her less time to think of what to say.
The car ride back to Paige's house left the two of you bright eyed and rosy cheeked; the radio was switched off and the driver spelled like he had just played in a basketball game and didn't bother to shower afterward. The backseat windows appeared to have a child lock on them, preventing either of you from breathing in fresh air. Between the buzz from all the drinking and toxicity of the car's air, you and Paige couldn't stop yourselves from laughing the whole way there. Her hands didn't leave your legs, but in the midst of all the welcomed chaos you hadn't even noticed.
You rolled out of the car, basking in the cold air with open arms. Paige trailed closely behind you, her hand on the small of your back as the two of you made your way up to her apartment. The second the elevators doors shut and you two were alone, your lips met hers in a searing kiss. She tasted sweet, like Dirty Shirleys and peach CÎROC shots. With your hands tangled in her hair, you pulled her closer, wanting needing to taste more of her.
Her tight grip on your hips, fingertips pressing into you, sent shivers throughout your body. She backed you into the wall, her tongue exploring every inch of your mouth while you lowered your guard and let her. So caught up in the taste of you, she almost missed the elevator opening up to her floor. Hardly even breaking the kiss, you two made your way out. Paige knew exactly where to go and you were blindly being led by her, stumbling over your own feet.
Paige fumbled around in her pocket for her keys, roughly jamming them into the lock and pushing the door open. The apartment was dark with the exception of a few city lights pouring in through the windows. Standing in place for a couple seconds longer, you felt the kiss slow down before Paige stopped it completely.
"Fuck," she spoke breathlessly, running a hand through her hair. She reluctantly backed away from you, turning on the lights. With the apartment's kitchen now being fully lit, you could see into the living room as well. The place was beautifully furnished, with little fake plants placed around on the shelves and pictures of Paige and her friends framed up on the walls. Her couch looked far more comfortable than the couch Noa had described earlier and you were dreading having to return to it later tonight.
Paige appeared in front of you, her hands coming up to cup your face. "I want you to go into my bedroom, turn the light on, and then sit down on the bed and wait for me," she instructed lowly. You nodded silently, backing up in the direction of the bedroom while giving Paige the sexiest smile you could muster. In reality, you were absolutely panicking.
Once you got to the bedroom, you switched on the lamp that rested on the bedside table and seated yourself on the edge of the bed. You were unsure of how to sit, or maybe you should try lying down? You decided on taking your shoes and socks off first, neatly dropping them on the side of the bed. You didn't have time to further your thoughts on how to sit because just as you had finished putting your things aside, Paige entered the bedroom and shut the door behind her. She was carrying a bottle of water that she set down on the nightstand, laughing when she noticed you awkwardly staring.
"You look uncomfortable."
"I'm not, just waiting for you," you replied, hoping the shakiness in your voice didn't betray you.
Paige walked over and stood before you, enticingly biting her lip. She leaned down at the same time that you leaned back, a seductive game of cat and mouse as she crawled forward whilst you crawled backward. Your smiles grew when your back hit the headboard and you realized you had nowhere else to go.
"You've been staring at me all night with those eyes," she murmured, and you felt her breath on your lips.
"What eyes?"
Paige rubbed her own nose against yours before she reconnected your lips. She pushed your legs apart with her hands, running them up and down the smooth material of your leggings. You let out a soft moan into her mouth when her knee came in contact with your heated center, bucking your hips in order to feel more of her.
Paige took it upon herself to quicken the pace, instinctively grinding into you. Her lips eventually left yours, trailing down your neck and leaving wet pecks all over. Her teeth bit softly into your skin, marking you as hers. You pressed her further into you, hands snaking under her shirt and roaming all over her back. Her attack on your flesh was violent, the pain pulling a pathetic whimper out of you.
"Fuck, do that again," Paige mumbled against your skin, repeating her actions a little rougher this time to gain a bigger reaction from you.
"Ah, Paige!" you slammed your hand against her shoulder, screwing your eyes shut.
She yanked harshly at the jersey still clinging to your body, "Take this shit off," she spat out. She pushed you down into the mattress, ripping the garment from your body and discarding it somewhere in the room. Your sweatshirt came off next, leaving you clad in only a bra and your leggings. Paige pulled her own shirt over her head, her necklace dangling over your face. You used it to pull her back down into you, hungry for a taste of her again.
Her fingertips crept underneath you and she hooked them onto your bra strap, skillfully unlatching it and pulling it off you. Dilated pupils gazed down at your exposed breasts, her hands hastily coming up to touch them like a child in a toy store. She kneaded, sucked, licked, kissed, her attention focused solely on your hardened nipples, leaving your neglected pussy uncontrollably dripping.
"Paige," you whined desperately, your back arching so far off the bed that Paige's hands forced you back down.
"Hm?" she hummed inattentively.
"I need you..."
A loud popping sound came from Paige letting go of your nipple, holding your stare as she lowered her body closer to where you needed her most. Just as she had hooked her fingers on your bra strap, she hooked them on the waistband of your leggings and slowly pulled them down.
Your panties were downright soaked, earning a mocking laugh from the blonde.
"So wet for me mama," she purred, a smirk on her face.
She took her thumb and ran it straight down your clothed slit. You sucked in a sharp breath, hands already grabbing at the sheets on the bed. To Paige, you looked like an angel lying there, like a good girl with those pleading eyes as you waited to be fucked senseless. Finally, Paige removed your panties and tossed them aside with the rest of your clothes.
She shamelessly played around in your slick, soaking each and every one of her fingers in it.
"Tell me you want it."
"I want it Paige," you breathed out.
Paige's face appeared overtop of you, her jaw clenched tightly in disapproval, "Beg."
You were so turned on you didn't even protest, instead just propped yourself up on your elbows to be closer to her. Her fingers danced around in teasingly slow circles on your clit, a knot gradually forming in your stomach. "Please I want you to fuck me, please baby I need it so bad. Want your fingers inside me," you exhorted pathetically.
Without wasting another second, the blonde inserted two lengthy fingers inside of you. It was like looking into a mirror the way Paige's face copied yours; when you bit your lip, she bit hers, when your mouth involuntarily gaped open, so did hers. She was taunting you, forcing you to see how undone you were becoming. Tightly gripping her bicep, you dug your nails into the large muscle.
Her fingers pumped in and out of you, thumb doing work on your clit to bring you closer to the edge. The squelching noise that filled the room sent heat to your cheeks, and if it wasn't that then it was the look Paige was giving you as she fucked you. She was proud of the mess you were becoming, the mess she was making you. She kissed your lips over and over again even though you couldn't kiss back.
Your head was spinning with thoughts of Paige, the feeling of Paige inside you. Your toes curled involuntarily, noises you had never heard yourself make before echoed off the walls of the room.
"Yes yes yes, i'm close," you cried out, "fuck just like that!"
Paige hurriedly kissed her way back down to your pussy, replacing her thumb with her tongue. She mercilessly sucked you like a starved woman enjoying her first meal, or a guilty one enjoying her last. Her tongue moved nimbly against you, fingers fucking in and out of you and feeling the tightness as you clenched around her.
"You gonna come for me, huh?"
"Uh huh," you fervently nodded.
"Hmm," she hummed into you, the vibrations nearly sending you over the edge, "let me hear you say it. I want to hear you say it."
"Yes! I'm gonna come for you..."
Paige expertly curled her fingers inside you, lying her tongue flat against your clit and forcing you to do none other than let go. The knot that had been building in your stomach finally fell apart, your legs snapping shut and trapping Paige's head there. You pushed and pulled at her, your desires becoming fuzzy as the orgasm swallowed you whole. Moans and strings of curse words unconsciously spilled from your lips. They were a stark contrast to the sweet things Paige cooed as she left kisses along your stomach, and your chest, and back up to your lips.
"Such a good girl," she whispered on your lips, "you were so good for me."
You shivered at the empty feeling you got from Paige pulling her fingers out of you, they were covered in the same slick that her chin was, glistening under the lamp's light. You smiled tiredly at her, snaking your arms around her neck and pressing your lips to hers.
"You tired?" she asked, observing your face.
"Yeah."
She pulled away from you and reached for the water bottle on the nightstand, twisting it open and bringing it to your lips. "Sleep here tonight," she said, "I can take you where you need to go in the morning."
Swallowing the water you said, "You sure?"
"Yeah, you probably can't walk after that anyway."
"Shut up," you snorted hitting her chest.
The two of you settled in bed together, your naked body finding warmth against her clothed one as she cuddled you close to her. You smiled to yourself, nuzzling your face in her neck and drifting off to sleep.
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