#also me immediately: *writes something else*

[covenofagatha]

g!p Agatha that cockwarms reader while cuddling on the couch watching TV then gets desperate, gets a pillow under reader's ass to elevate her hips and breed her good to make sure it sticks

Ohhhh

Yes. Just yes. I decided to write a short little thing about this because fuck what a delicious image and I need a break from studying

Touchdowns and teasing

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: g!p Agatha, breeding kink, cockwarming, sex, mommy kink, american football

The moment you slide down onto Agatha's cock and feel her stretch you out, you know that you're not going to last long.

The two of you are watching a football game, her favorite team against yours, and it's tied going into the fourth quarter. The two of you had been talking smack all day and making bets, and it came to a culmination during a commercial break just a few minutes ago when Agatha suggested that you cockwarm her during the last part and then whoever's team won would get to be on top.

She groans beneath you as your walls squeeze her length and you think she might not make it the quarter either.

You shift, trying to adjust and find a spot that doesn't make you want to cum right away, and Agatha whimpers.

"You're not supposed to move," she says through gritted teeth, arms wrapping around your waist tightly, laying a palm on the bulge she's making in your stomach. She presses slightly and you take a sharp breath.

It's so hard to stay still because she's filling you so deliciously, but also because you can feel her pulsing inside you and you want her to move more than anything else.

Her team scores and she jumps with excitement, and it involuntarily thrusts her cock deeper inside you and you moan and clench down around her even more.

"Fuck," Agatha curses, immediately freezing, and her cock twitches. Eventually, she relaxes and you try to focus on the TV, but all you can think about is how good she feels inside you.

But you're not the only one affected — Agatha's breathing has quickened and her nails are digging into your hips, her cock throbbing inside your wet cunt every so often.

Your team throws an interception and you swear, accidentally lurching forward to throw your arms up incredulously at the screen. Agatha lets out a strangled gasp, hands roughly tightening their hold on you, and her cock seems to swell.

"I can't believe he didn't catch that!" you exclaim, almost forgetting the state that you're in and Agatha breathlessly chuckles.

She tucks a piece of hair behind your ear and presses a kiss to your head. "Not looking too good for you," she hums smugly and you roll your eyes.

Agatha and you are both very competitive, and even worse losers.

So if you're not going to win this bet, you're going to at least win something.

You clench your walls tightly around her, eliciting an explicit groan from her, and she bucks up into you uncontrollably.

"Honey," she warns, voice thick and dangerous, and you know she'd wipe the smirk off your face if she could see it.

Slowly starting to rock back and forth ever so slightly, you take immense pleasure in the sounds that start to fall out of her mouth. And then you turn it up a notch. "Mommy, please, I need you," you whine and Agatha jerks up again.

"Stop," she hisses, her cock throbbing again, and you know you've almost got her.

You rise slowly and she lets you — dragging your pussy lips against her cock and she groans when she sees herself glistening with your wetness. "Mommy — fuck, I need you, I need you to breed me," you rasp, making your voice sound as desperate as possible because you know that's the surest way to get her to break.

Agatha growls in your ear and you know that you won.

She pushes you forward, her cock slipping out of you, before she grabs your waist and flips you over onto your back and you get your first look at her since you started the challenge.

Her face is pink, vein prominent in her forehead, and her cock is so messy. You swallow hard in anticipation and she studies you while you watch her cock bob up and down, leaking everywhere.

And then she grabs the couch pillow from behind her and shoves it under your hips and shoves your legs even wider than they were before leaning over and sheathing her cock back inside you.

Both of you groan and she sets a quick pace.

"Gonna breed you, baby, mommy's gonna breed you," she grunts and all you can do is moan, your eyes rolling back in your head, as she fills you perfectly, the elevated angle of your hips allowing her to get even deeper inside you.

You babble something incoherently and your head falls back against the couch, pleasure making your mind spin, and Agatha’s rhythm begins faltering quickly as your walls convulse around her. 

Agatha’s thrusts become short and fast snaps of her hips, driving her cock as far as it reaches into you. “Gonna breed you so good,” she prattles, voice tight and hot, and she leans down to lick a stripe up your neck. You turn your head so she can get better access and she nips at your throat. “Mommy’s gonna fill you up, gonna make sure it sticks.” 

You gasp and roll your hips up to meet her cock and you’re not sure she’s ever been this deep inside you. Her hands grab onto your wrists and pin them up above your head against the couch and she’s right on top of you so you can watch her face contort with how good it feels, just like you’re sure yours is. 

Pleasure is fraying your veins and there are no thoughts left in your head. “Please, mommy, need you to cum inside me,” you beg and she lets out an unrestrained moan, furiously nodding her head. 

“Fuck, your cunt feels so good around me,” she croaks and sinks her teeth into her bottom lip as she watches you. She’s throbbing and pulsing and you know she’s not going to last much longer. 

Neither are you. “Mommy, I’m so close,” you cry. Agatha is panting above you, a glazed over look in her eyes, and you can’t help but clench at the sight. 

Her breath is pained and sharp and her hips stutter. “Yeah, yes, fuck, mommy’s gonna cum, mama’s gonna cum inside you,” she groans and you swear loudly before pleasure completely overtakes you. 

It’s not even five seconds later that she has her orgasm, stiffening on top of you with a high-pitched keen, before shallowly rutting into you while you feel her cum get pumped into your cunt and paint your walls warm and white. It almost makes you cum again and you continue to ride it out. 

Agatha collapses on top of you, pressing open-mouthed kisses to your lips and face while you feel her cock begin to soften inside you. She loves to do this after sex — just keep her cum inside you for as long as she can before she pulls out. 

Cockwarming after she fucks you often goes a lot better than doing it before. 

“Oh, would you look at that?” Agatha muses, glancing up at the TV. You crane your head to look and see that her team is now up by ten points with three minutes left to go. She gives you a soft, little thrust, her cock twitching and slowly beginning to harden again. 

“Mommy,” you gasp, still sensitive. You can feel her cum starting to leak out of you around her cock. 

She smirks and kisses you again, snaking a hand between your bodies to rub at your clit, making your hips jump. “Shh, baby. Remember, we had a bet. I’m just going to stay right here until the game is over. And then you’re going to take everything I give you, isn’t that right?” 

All you can do is nod and clench around her. 

@lostbutlovely33 @diorrxckstar @whoreforolderfictionalwomen  @katekathry @onemansdreamisanothermansdeath @tayasmellsapples @natashashill @mybraininblood @mysticalmoonlight7  @cactuslover2600 @loveem0mo @readysteddiero-nance @lonelyhalfwitch @lesbiantortilla @crescendoofstars @sol-in-wonderland @ahsfan05 @gbab09 @sasheemo @agathaharness @live-laugh-love-lupone @chiar4anna @fuckedupforkhahn @lowlyjelly @sweetmidnights

[superbdragoncollection-stuff]

They also did it because they loved that he killed "commies". Something I think people forget is how much in the famous poem, so many people approved of the deaths of some but not others. That is the point of the poem, yet I think it's something society has not dealt with properly.

am disappointed by the lack of connections to another period in history.

You know who else really loved to scream about immigrants, how bad the government was, how bad public education is, really loves to kill people, and threw a fit because they lost an election?

The Rebellion against the united states, AKA the so-called confederacy. They ALSO, claimed that the economy would be lost. They ALSO claimed that without slaves they couldn't compete. They ALSO said EVERYTHING THE CONSERVATIVES DO NOW, BECAUSE THEY ARE ALMOST THE SAME PEOPLE.

their leaders, a lot of rich white men from the south, insisted the progressive party of 1860 was unconstitutional because it was abolitionist.

They IMMEDIATELY seceded when Lincoln won. he DID NOT DO ANYTHING. HE WAS NOT EVEN INAUGURATED YET.

They said in their declarations of secession that the abolitionist majority of the country had taken over. as in... they complained that they lost the election. THAT IS WHAT THEY SAID.

The South seceded because a man associated with the abolitionist party got into the white house. They had control of it for DECADES. IN fact, before Nixon, the worst presidents we ever had were Zachary Taylor, Franklin Pierce, and James Buchanan, the guys who led up to Lincoln.

The South HAD NO LEGITIMATE COMPLAINTS, AND NO RIGHT TO SECEDE. "MOMMY, THE BIG BAD VOTERS OFFENDED ME BY SAYING I COULDN'T OWN SLAVES". They killed 3 out of every 100 Americans over a fucking TEMPER TANTRUM, and have the GALL to pain themselves as victims ever since.

You know what the difference is between former US Army Colonel, mass murderer, and terrorist Robert E Lee, and Osama Bin Laden is? LEE HAS A HIGHER BODY COUNT. Lee is the biggest murderer of Americans in a single day than anyone else in history, and putting up statues to him is tantamount to putting up bin Laden statues. Former US senator and terrorist leader Jefferson Davis led the war that killed more Americans than anyone else COMBINED.

These are the greatest traitors, murderers, and MONSTERS in American history. they were cowards, and got off practically scot free. Lee, "blood dripping with the hands of murdered innocent's" in the words of judge underwood, tolerated plenty of abuse of POWs in that time, and when questioned, pretended to not know a thing.

So, the greatest white supremacist mass murdering slavers, who went into battle screaming "I'M A BAD PERSON" while wearing t-shirts saying "I hate democracy and freedom", are idolized in the US as bastions of freedom and liberty. They were authoritarian bastards who wanted to plunge millions of American citizens into never ending slavery, they were the worst monsters the US ever fought outside the Nazis. Fighting them, bashing their damned skulls in, burning their cities, and finally subduing their damn white supremacist skins was one of the greatest things the US ever did.

And half the country idolized these OBJECTIVELY MONSTROUS PEOPLE for a century.

The roots of the current crisis lie not simply in WWII, in the white supremacist history that came from letting these jackals, these murderers, these monsters in the shape of men get off, and allowing their white supremacist children to write the history books.

Yo, correct me if I am wrong please, but didn't Hitler rise to power because he promised to fix the German economy and people really liked that so they looked past everything else he was doing??? Like exactly what's happening in America right now???

So many people said they voted for Trump, put a truly evil person in power, because he said he'd fix the economy, and a little voice in my head is going, "Isn't that what happened with fucking Hitler??"

But I've seen no one point that out so maybe I'm miss remembering???????

[svetamillss]

Headcanons: how they behave on the Internet and in correspondence with you🩵

Featuring: Cho Hyun Ju x Reader(f), Thanos (Su Bong) x Reader(f), Gang No Eul x Reader(f), Nam Gyu x Reader(f), Park Gyeong Seok x Reader(f)

Warnings: deviation from the canon, AU without squid game.

A/N: Thank you very much for 300 readers on my channel! I tried very hard to write something interesting for you!

🩵🩵🩵

Cho Hyun Ju

Her avatar on the social network⬇️

How does she behave on the Internet

•The girl doesn't really like to put her photos on her avatar, so she decided to put bouquets of flowers that you give her. She always takes pictures of them as a souvenir.

•Ju is subscribed to groups about cooking, about transgender people, about fashion and groups about your favorite series and shows.

•She has a closed account and not many friends. Of which you, transgender friends, with whom she is very good friends, because common interests and destinies have united them.

How does she behave in your correspondence

•She likes to send you good morning pictures in the morning or just cute images of animals, flowers, nature.

•When you are both at work, she tries to write to you every free minute, and you immediately try to answer her.

•She still can't learn how to send you voice messages, so she writes everything manually!

•Hyun Ju writes you a lot about love, even at a distance you should feel that she loves you very much and takes care of you.

•The girl likes to send cute emojis in every message. Even if they are not quite appropriate, she will still do it! That's how she tries to convey all her emotionality.

«Baby, how are you? How are things at work? Didn't you forget to have lunch? 😊 I miss you a lot!! 😭😭😭 I'm waiting for the evening to enjoy you as soon as possible!! ❤️❤️❤️ I love you very much!!! ❤️❤️❤️»

«I got off work early!! 🥳🥳🥳 I'll go to the store now, tell me, do you need to buy something there? ☺️ I can also pick you up after work! ❤️»

«It's only been an hour since we parted, but I miss you already!!! 😭😭😭😭»

«Baby, maybe we can call at lunch??? I miss you a lot!! ❤️❤️❤️ or should we go to a cafe and have lunch together?? 😊😊😊»

Thanos (Su Bong)

His avatar on the social network⬇️

How he behaves on the Internet

•The guy has a lot of photos in his profile: photos from his concert, clubs, with friends, ordinary selfies, photos with you. But he always puts on the avatar only those photos that you personally took. You are a personal photographer for him. This is how he expresses his love.

•Su Bong is subscribed to groups about music, clubs, and some of his fan groups.

•He has an open profile, but not many friends. He adds only loved ones: you, his close friends, work colleagues. Because of all this, he has a lot of subscribers, as fans want to be his friends.

How he behaves in your correspondence

•He likes to send you his funny photos, especially when you are far away from him.

•Su tries to write to you every free minute, because he is ashamed that he spends more time in the studio.

•He is also a fan of flirting even in correspondence, which will soon grow into a much vulgar one.

«Now I'm sitting in the studio, but I could lie in bed with you and do something more interesting😏»

«Fuck, I'm going to be late today. And I miss you so much, baby. If you want, come to my studio, we'll be all alone»

«Nam invites you and me to his club for a party, I'll go if you agree to join. He said he was really waiting for us»

«Fuck, baby, I miss you!»

Gang No Eul

Her avatar on social networks⬇️

How does she behave on the Internet

•The girl doesn’t have her profile photos, as she registered for you.

•But then she decided to put a photo on her avatar, which you took quietly. She seemed very cute and decided to put it on. All for you. ⬇️

•She is not subscribed to any groups, she does not have time to read what they write there.

•Since No Eul registered only for you, her profile is closed, and you are the only friend. She doesn't need anyone else.

How does she behave in your correspondence

•The girl is very worried about you, so she often asks about your condition, it happens when you are both at work, or only her.

•She doesn't really know how to express her love, it manifests itself not only in life, but also in correspondence. So don't be offended by her, she tries very hard, but everything goes gradually!!

•Since she does not know how to show her feelings strongly, the girl puts ❤️ in almost every message so that you at least feel that she loves you very much.

•No Eul also tries to write to you every free minute, because she can't even pick up the phone while working.

•She also puts dots after each sentence, but this does not mean that she is offended, but simply observes punctuation.

«How are you? How do you feel? I finally have a break and I was able to write to you. ❤️»

«After work, I'll pick you up, because it's very late and all kinds of terrible men walk around.»

«I'll be back late. Go to bed without me. I'm sorry it happened that way. ❤️»

«Maybe we can have lunch together? I want to spend more time with you. ❤️»

Nam Gyu

His avatar on the social network⬇️

How he behaves on the Internet

•The guy has a lot of photos in his profile, especially those related to cats. He also has photos from the club, with friends, ordinary photos and joint photos with you. And since he loves cats, he photoshops the cat's ears and muzzle and puts it on his avatar for the sake of a joke.

•Gyu is subscribed to bands about music, cats, about his club, as well as fan groups about his friend Thanos.

•He has an open profile and a lot of friends. Unlike Thanos, he adds absolutely everyone, as he is a very friendly person.

How he behaves in your correspondence

•He sends you a lot of meme pictures with cats, well, he loves them very much.

•Uses both light flirting and more vulgar. Especially when you haven't seen him for a long time because of work.

•Nam likes to send you emojis with hearts, so he expresses his love for you.

•A guy can sometimes write with mistakes, and also not follow the punctuation. As he likes to say: I write as I feel.

«Kiss me if I'm wrong, but dinosaurs still exist, right? 😏❤️»

«Kitten come to my club I'm bored😭😭😭😭»

«Thanos said he was better than me! 😡 I told him no because I have such a cool girl like you❤️»

«Meow-meow I'm bored maybe we'll call? Or are you busy now?»

Park Gyeong Seok

His avatar on the social network⬇️

P.S. I wanted to take another photo where I can add you, but I didn't find anything like it, so I took this one. But let's imagine that he has a photo on his avatar where all three of you are standing.

How he behaves on the Internet

•He publishes photos with his daughter and with you, sometimes only Na Yeon photos, rarely his photos.

•The man is subscribed to groups about art and psychology.

•He has a closed profile and few people. You and his closest friends are among friends.

How he behaves in your correspondence

•He writes you big messages about his love, because he wants to cheer you up for the whole day.

•Also, a man is very worried about you and his daughter, so he almost always asks about your well-being.

•He likes to send you photos of nature that he took while in the park, he also likes to take pictures of his paintings.

•Gyeong likes to send you laughing emojis, we don't forget that he is much older than you, so you don't always understand his jokes, and his emojis sometimes annoy you, but you don't confess to him because you don't want to offend.

«How are you there? What do you do? Na Yeon is not capricious?»

«I love you very much. ❤️»

«I'll try to finish the work earlier and then the three of us can go for a walk in the park and eat ice cream.»

«There's such a funny situation here! A dog is barking at the package near me, it probably thinks it's a monster. 🤣🤣🤣🤣»

🩵🩵🩵

[shanastoryteller]

Congrats on finishing See Something Say Something!! I checked the notification of the first AO3 email sent out and you initially planned on five chapters.

Would you say that the ending changed considerably since you started in October? Or has that stayed the same?

thank you!

it stayed the same lol. while my fics getting wildly out of control and becoming way longer than i anticipated is pretty common, i'm pretty much never changing overarching plot when this happens. the story that i become interested in telling is typically the story then i end up telling

almost every story can be made shorter or longer. it's less about what happens and more about how that information is conveyed. things that really tend to affect writing length are perspective and breathing room

the shortest fic i have on ao3 that's not part of a series is You Were (Not) Meant For Me (posted 11 years ago, jesus T_T). the premise is that claudia was a witch who intended trained stiles to be a witch and she arranged his marriage to laura hale, the future hale alpha. this is a traditional pairing as talia's husband was also a witch married to talia in service of the pact. except claudia died before she could train stiles or tell him about the engagement. stiles starts learning magic after scott is turned. derek falls for stiles and feels like he's betraying his sister by loving him, betraying stiles by not being the alpha he deserves and not telling him about the arrangement claudia made, and hates himself the entire time, but not enough to stop himself

that's a 100k fic easy

it's 1,696 words

it's extremely limited perspective (derek's) and it's made up only of limited snapshots of moments with very little context. there's no seeing what's happening, only told, which i think would quickly grow boring if it was longer and if the real point of the story wasn't derek's self hatred and how he fails to deal with it. that's the part of the story that isn't told, really - derek does think explicitly that he hates himself, but we're also seeing it in the way he talks and thinks about himself and the people around him

by contrast we have survival is a talent, which is obviously my longest fic. we're over 500k and we've got quite a bit to go

perspective doesn't just refer to character pov, but audience pov - are you being told a story, or are you experiencing the story? this is also tied into breathing room. there's no wrong way, i've done both and will do both, but one certainly requires more words than the other in my experience

siat is told only through draco and harry's perspective, but it's all happening in real time. the audience is being taken along for this story. the thing is that that things in real life don't all come tumbling one after another, not all questions have immediate answers. when depicting character growth and a plot unfurling, i think it's really important to include breathing room to give the audience time to feel that growth and change. i'm stricter about this with siat than anything else i've written, probably sometimes to its detriment. i want you and the characters to have time to feel the effects of emotional revelations and plot hints. i want you to have the time to question and wonder about things the same way the characters do

one time a friend criticized the good place for including the portion where they were alive again on earth because it wasn't as interesting as being in hell, but i disagree. we needed that breathing room both to live with the effects of character growth of going through hell and to have time for the effects of their actions on the plot to settle before they moved forward again. i stopped watching agents of shield because we weren't given enough breathing room - there was never a chance to see the characters not in crisis, the world was always ending, ect. the alchemyst book series has the first like 3 books taking place over a day and a half. i got tired of it after that. there's no breathing room

a story where i gave up on the concept of breathing room was build your wings on the way down. i liked that fic, but i wanted it finished, and to do it with i think optimal pacing would have made it twice as long as it was. so i said screw it, avalanche time, everything is happening all at once right now. there's very little breathing room there, which i think doesn't work too terribly in part because everything is so urgent and everyone is stressed so not being able to catch you breath sort of fits

See Something Say Something did not need to be 215k, although i'm not at all complaining. i feel very happy with how i told this story. but the basic premise - sam getting his powers early, getting involved in the large hunter world secretly from his family, and dean feeling misplaced and worried about how much sam needs/wants him - could have been told a hundred different ways and all would have pulled it off, so to speak

i considered doing the the entire fic from dean's pov (as a sam girl i love his pov because all he thinks about is sam and he's so insane about it) which would have effectively cut out basically the first five chapters. i thought exploring the slow realization of what's going on purely from dean's pov, with the audience having not insight would have been really interesting, just like what I did in dumb luck or good ghost with dean slowly figuring out that sam didn't die in the crash. another thing is the inclusion of all the side characters which i did to make the world feel rich and real, but we didn't need all these outsider povs to get the basic point across. very rarely is something vital being conveyed by an outsider pov, but it reinforced and adds to the main characters. i also initially didn't have wincest, which obviously added a ton of words. i loved exploring dean's self hatred and fear and sam's obliviousness, but bringing them to a place of ignorance to acceptance to happiness is a lot longer of a journey than just dealing with dean's propriety love as an unhinged co-dependent older brother. again, i'm sticking by all these choices, i made them because i thought it was the best way to the tell the story i was most interesting in telling, but my point is that you didn't need them to tell this particular story

it was also how i told the story. we spend a lot of time wallowing in character's emotions, especially dean's and sam's, but the others as well. part of this fic is convincing you that these two brothers should fuck, actually, and doing that effectively is going to take some time, especially at this point in their lives when things are pretty normal. comparatively, fucking your brother after starting the apocalypse is pretty small potatoes. i wanted you to understand these people, to feel what they were feeling, to not feel that it was inconceivable that jess would be willing to share her boyfriend with his brother, to buy all their relationships with each other in a way that isn't purely based on convenience

part of the reason i wrote dumb luck or good ghost before see something say something was that i felt i needed a firmer grasp on who the characters are before getting into who they were and who they could be - especially john, who i feel is exceptionally difficult to write without over excusing his actions or over villainizing them. the reason john doesn't get a single pov in see something say something is that while he's a motivating and underlying factor in much of the story, the story isn't about him. it's about the effect he has on those around him, and i didn't want to sully the pureness of that effect by introducing his internal dialogue, regardless of how persecutionary or absolving it would be. it's just not about him. it's how he responds to others and how they respond to him in turn

anyway! this is another example of something ending up longer than expected, but yeah. the plot of see something say something didn't change much from posting of the first chapter and my stories rarely do - i have plot points in siat that have been there since i posted the first chapter that are still relevant and happening. "harry and draco just. cut dumbledore's fucking hand off" my beloved

[eddiesghxst]

hellow, i’m officially done with school for the next year or so which means (if u haven’t already noticed) i’ve started to write 50 wips <3

so anyway, here’s a snippet of something im writing about dom!eddie who’s also a tattoo artist who just so happens to own a tattoo parlor that’s right next to a ballet studio which just so happens to be owned by ballet instructor!reader

18+ — MINORS DNI

It was a series of unfortunate events.

You had spent the last five years of your life building your ballet school from the ground up, but when your old studio was sold out from under you, you were forced to find a new home for your students.

It wasn’t easy. There weren’t many options for you to choose from and most buildings either needed an immense amount of work that your pockets couldn’t afford or were too far away and would inevitably cause you to lose students.

But then you stumbled on a dream. The new studio was perfect— freshly installed tiling, beautiful acoustics, and the fee to install the mirrors wasn’t all that bad— except for one small detail: the tattoo parlor next door.

For the months that you spent preparing the studio for your students, you were tormented with the constant buzz of needles and the faint scent of ink lingers in the air all day, mixing with the sharp fragrance of floor polish and irritation that comes with summer heat. It nearly drove you insane.

But what started as a nuisance soon flourished into something else entirely. The tattoo shop’s owner, a tall, inked-up man named Eddie, was there every morning, the storefront always open to the bustling world outside. Your first conversation had been brief— you introduced yourself, explained how you ended up here and he wished you a good start to your new building.

It wasn’t until a few months down the line that you finally caved and complained about the noise, telling him it was difficult to focus with the loud sounds from his shop and Eddie— surprisingly, since you had somewhat painted him a villain in your mind— apologized and said he’d try to keep the noise down— “I can’t promise the same on the days I don’t work, though. My team tends to never listen to me.”

And so then you and Eddie formed a very nice, casual, and polite relationship. Something like a work relationship. A nice smile and wave in the morning, small and quick conversations about the week— and sometimes, he would get you a coffee and slide it on your desk while you’re busy with your morning class.

But as weeks passed, your casual exchanges became… something more— quick morning greetings turned into full blown conversations and free coffees turned into free lunches— “The deli down the street always gives me an extra sandwich.” And you almost think he’s lying about that, but he never really leaves you room to further pry about it. Lingering looks, shared laughs, and an unspoken connection grew deeper with each passing day.

But it started and ended at work— there on Blackburn Avenue where your ballet studio and his tattoo parlor share a sidewalk— and it never left. And you never expected it to be more— Eddie is more of a work crush anyway. You talk and flirt for the few hours that you share a wall, and when you go home you watch your reality TV shows, eat dinner, and think nothing of it.

But what the hell do you do when you walk into a BDSM club and see your work crush on a stage, knuckle’s deep in a pretty girl, with a bunch of strangers watching— including yourself?

What do you do when the pretty boy that owns the shop next to your studio is on a stage, whispering dirty praises in a girls ear and finger fucking her until her thighs shake? What do you do when you realize— oh fuck, I should probably leave since I actually know this guy and we’re kind of coworkers, but you stay like the idiot you are?

And what do you do when his pretty brown eyes (which look even dreamier when they’re blown out and dark with lust) glance up from the woman below him and just happen to immediately land on you?

What the fuck do you do?

[bcmbiquinn]

Boyfriend!Eddie Munson Headcanons

‧˚ʚɞ˚‧ He’d always make mixtapes/playlists for you for any occasion, “songs that remind me of us” “we should make out to this rhythm” type of thing.

‧˚ʚɞ˚‧ He’d drag you to every underground metal concert he can find but he would also go to any concert you want.

‧˚ʚɞ˚‧ Following the above, he would do anything to get you tickets for your favourite artist, like anything! Camping the night before to be early in line -modern Eddie would have a laptop, 3 phones and a tablet to get you tickets-

‧˚ʚɞ˚‧ Late night drives with your boy, yup! Blasting music, windows down and taking random turns until you end up in a secluded spot and make out for hours. (Maybe more)

‧˚ʚɞ˚‧ Eddie is definitely a total romantic, he would write you cheesy love notes on scraps of paper, make poems for you, showing up late at night outside your window with a flower he stole from your neighbour yard.

‧˚ʚɞ˚‧ He would try on making breakfast for you, but it’s mostly just burnt toast and half cooked scrambled eggs, he tried tho!

‧˚ʚɞ˚‧ Touchy touchy, this man can’t take his hands off of you, pinching your cheeks, hand on your lower back, on your knees, caressing your arm, kisses on your forehead and neck and so on.

‧˚ʚɞ˚‧ Eddie definitely needs a lot of reassurance, deep inside he always feels like people would eventually leave him, he desperately wants you to reassure him but struggles to ask for it, but once you do it and tell him there’s no one else you’d rather be, he melts instantly!

‧˚ʚɞ˚‧ He’s really into matching tattoos and would love to get one with you but if you’re hesitant about, he’d just draw one on you with a sharpie.

‧˚ʚɞ˚‧ ridiculously overprotective, you stub your toe, he’s like “Who did this to you?” Then proceeds to flip of the chair or hit the couch with his foot and ends up hurting himself too!

‧˚ʚɞ˚‧He’s sooo dramatic when he gets a cold, acts like he’s dying, all tucked acting like he’s on his deathbed holding your hand dramatically “my love…i don’t think I’d make it this time”

‧˚ʚɞ˚‧ He can’t lie and definitely can’t keep secrets from you, if he has planned a surprise for you, he’s going to mess up immediately “Okay but when we get to the… I mean the totally normal thing we're doing! Forget what i said that!”

‧˚ʚɞ˚‧ He would stole your snacks and leftovers, his logic? “What’s yours is mine, love. That’s how love works”

‧˚ʚɞ˚‧ He takes fake offence to everything, if you say you don’t like a band he loves he would act as if you just stabbed him.

‧˚ʚɞ˚‧ He’s genuinely protective of you, if someone upset you he goes full beast mode, “do I need to kick someone’s ass?” He doesn’t play about you or your safety.

‧˚ʚɞ˚‧ if he’s ever mad at you, he would never be mean, he may cross his arms and grumble but the moment you give him puppy eyes he melts “you’re so lucky I love you, you little gremlin”

‧˚ʚɞ˚‧ Our boy is a crybaby but he never had someone to rely on until he found you, he would try to hold his tears but the moment you hug him and whisper “I got you, Eds” it’s over, he buries his face on your shoulder shaking as he sobs.

‧˚ʚɞ˚‧ He loves making gifts for you, he thinks it’s way more romantic, he would spent hours making the perfect necklace, ring for you, love letters, a scrapbook with all the memories you’ve made together, concert tickets, Polaroids.

‧˚ʚɞ˚‧He totally loves your quirks, if you’re into collecting rocks, you better believe he would get you the prettiest rocks!

‧˚ʚɞ˚‧He would give you one of his rings and if it doesn’t fit on your finger because it’s too big he would turn it into a necklace.

‧˚ʚɞ˚‧he would give the most out of place birthday cards “congratulations on your promotion” “yaaaaaaaaay”

‧˚ʚɞ˚‧He gives you his stuff to you for no reason, his jacket? Take it, his favourite band pin? Take it. If you ever mention liking something he has, straight right into your hands “No, really take it, I don’t even need it” he probably does need it.

We’re close to valetine’s day baddies!

Divider: @adornedwithlight

[paperclip-skz]

Hyunjin's Love and Leashes ( part 4 ) Office Blowout

fem*Reader x Hyunjin

*WARNING*

WC: 2.9k

Contains: mentions of sexual content, and BDSM references, second hand embarrassment, this is going to be a lot of parts and little parts to it (there is a cliffhanger at the end)

Also note: This story is HEAVLY influenced by the Netflix movie Love and Leashes. This is just "my" version of it, you could say. I am writing to write and I recommend you watch Love and Leashes. *** This is not an original idea, this IS INSPIRED BY A MOVIE/ANIME**

****

part 1 part 2 part 3

***

Month 2

2 months before the contract ends

In the weeks that followed, you let your imagination run wild with every session. 

You continued your research to be more prepared, which led you to the candles you found online. They were safe and specifically designed for burning on the skin. 

You booked another room in another hotel and let him rest in the grand bathtub in the bathroom. Lit candles were placed around every corner, lighting the room dimly as Hyunjin rested peacefully. He let his whole body relax, his eyes closed, and his heart steady. You walked over with your special candle in hand and traced your finger down the spine of his back. His muscles contracted in anticipation, but when the first droplet of melted wax hit his skin, his back reacted like clouds, creating a storm. His hushed moans filled the air as you painted his skin.

Then, the following week, you decided that sensory play was the best play you both shared. You gathered objects that made his skin crawl with goosebumps. 

Ever since your last “session,” the only thing tying you two together besides work has been stolen glances and hidden commands.

You would hide commands at work, ensuring Hyunjin understood who was in control, even outside the playpen.

“Hyunjin, go grab me the schedule from my desk,” you would say, something completely hidden from everyone else, but the second you made any sort of demand, Hyunjin would sit up straight, a beautiful blush spreading across his cheeks. 

You could tell when he thought of that night, the night he traced his lips across your bare skin. You couldn’t deny that you thought of it, too,  almost every night. You could feel the faintness of his lips; you could imagine the hunger in his eyes…

“Y/N?” you snap back to the presentation before you. 

“Yes,” you say, clearly trying to act unbothered. 

“Umm, anyways, as I was saying,” the presentation continues, and you can hear Hyunjin smirk beside you. His cheeks are the faintest bit of pink, but his smile is mischievous. 

As the presentation goes on, you slowly lose interest. As words drag and sentences seem endless, you wonder when this meeting will end and how long you really have to be here. 

Hyunjin coughs beside you, and you immediately turn your head to look at him. That’s when you notice he’s wearing the glasses you gave him. He seems unbothered and oblivious, as if his body embodies calmness. However, when he adjusts his glasses slightly, his eyes glance toward you, almost as if he’s sending you a hidden message…and you understand instantly.

If anything has taught you about Hyunjin in the past few days and…sessions, it’s taught you how to read him. The difference lies in when he wants attention and when he wants to be dominated. Your spine straightens, and a devilish smirk spreads across your lips.

The presentation soon ends, but you have one last comment: “Thank you for these notes; I’ll get right on them, but I need to discuss something with Mr. Hwang. May we have the room, please?” You ask politely. As each member of your team begins to leave, everyone seems none the wiser. 

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

He can’t explain why he did what he did. You both agreed that even when he needed your dominance in the workplace, it wouldn’t interrupt a meeting of any kind. So why did he give you the signal?  

Maybe because he was addicted to you, ever since that session where he grazed your skin, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. And not just what other parts of your body he could graze, but just you. The way you scrunched your nose when you had a good meal. Or the way your laugh left your lips like a summer breeze. Or just your confidence in everything you did. He was falling, and he was falling fast. 

Once the last member of your team leaves, Hyunjin watches as you crane your head back to him with a wicked smile. “What did you need, pretty boy?” 

He’ll never admit it, but he secretly loves it when you call him that. Such a praising nickname said in such a degrading way; it made the tent in his pants tighten. “Y-you,” he stumbles. 

“Here?” you ask, still smiling. 

He nods his head, already at a loss for words. “Tsk tsk tsk,” you shake your head in mock disappointment, “when anyone could see you.” He didn’t miss the fact you said ‘you.’ Almost acting like you didn’t care to get caught, only thinking about his position in all this, his embarrassment. Why did that make his body want to sing? Want to explode with pent-up tension….. It was official: you were going to kill him, and he was going to have a big fat smile on his face when he died. 

“Answer me,” you demanded. 

He flinched at your sudden tone and stumbled out a shaky “yes.” 

He can see a flicker in your eyes, but you keep your confidence. 

“Be here after work. I need to teach you a lesson,” you say in the most addictive voice he thinks he’s ever heard. 

****( 4 hours later )

You made him flinch. You’ve never seen him flinch like that. Was your tone too strong? Maybe you shouldn’t have been so direct with him….

No. He asked for you to be direct and practically control him. Besides, if he were really scared, he would have said so. 

Still, doubts cloud your mind as your and everyone’s shifts come to an end. “Hey,” one of your coworkers pokes their head in through your office door, “me and some others are going for drinks afterward. Wanna come?” 

“Nah, can’t,” you say. “Already got plans,” you smile kindly. If they only knew your ‘plans’ included something much more sinister. 

They nodded out the door and headed for the elevators, where the last of your team had separated. You had told Hyunjin to return to the meeting room after work, so when you walked in and saw Hyunjin sitting in the same chair in the same spot as before, you weren’t surprised.

You walk into the meeting room, your body in a rush of warmth. 

*********

“You needed me. In the middle of a meeting. Why?” Your voice is cold, cold as ice that pierces the silence of the room. 

His eyes can’t meet yours. He’s so ashamed of his thoughts he can’t bear to look at you. “Why!” you raise your voice slightly, and he snaps his eyes to yours. 

“I-I—” he stutters. How does he explain? He simply can’t. If he did, he would say that he is helplessly falling in love with the woman he asked to be his dominant, but the thought alone makes his stomach turn. 

“You what?” you say, your brows pulling in confusion.

“I’m sorry,” he’s defeated. Words are lost, and his head hangs low. “I- I don’t know what came over me. I got jealous and needy and I don’t know. I’m sorry.”  

A pause. A breath of silence fills the air, his words hanging like bait. “Take off your belt.” Blood rushes to his ears, his whole face red and heated. 

“Wha-”

“Do you trust me?” Your voice drips like honey, smooth and enticing.

“Yes,” he breathes, a hint of anticipation in his tone. Deliberately, he removes his belt, the leather sliding through the hoops of his dress pants with a tantalizing slowness. You snatch the thick material from his hands, your fingers brushing against his skin as you stretch it across your palm.

“Stand there,” you command, pointing to the edge of the table, your eyes locking onto his.

Hyunjin moves to obey, leaning against the table with his palms gripping the edge. He casts a quick glance at you, catching the sight of your wet lips and the frantic spark in your eyes, but your posture remains unwavering.

The air thickens with tension, and a heartbeat of silence extends before you raise the belt high above your head. You bring it down against the table with a swift motion, the crack echoing like a thunderclap. He flinches, the sound electrifying, igniting a thrilling rush that races down his spine. It's a feeling he never knew he craved, each sharp sound pulling him deeper into the moment, hungry for the next taste of exhilaration.

“Was that so bad?” your voice lingers in the air, wrapping around him like silk. His chest rises and falls with heavy, intoxicating breaths.

His gaze locks onto yours, and you find yourself holding your breath. The vibrant spark in his eyes has dimmed, replaced by a smoldering darkness that sends a shiver down your spine and ignites something deep within.

Hyunjin straightens, a predatory grace in his movements, his knuckles gripping the edge of the table, white with need. “Do it again,” he whispers, each word dripping with desire.

He sits there. And he takes his punishment, letting the slash of his belt pierce the air from how you hit it on the counter. It makes him flinch, but it also sends a wave of electricity through his body, something he can’t describe, something he’s never felt before. 

He’s never trusted anyone so much in his life. Someone he would trust not to hurt him but tiptoe just above the edge of pain. 

“Do you really think I would do this to just anyone?” you scream. 

And then you stop. The chilling air freezes in place, and the silence is so thick you could cut it with a knife. You take a careful step towards him. He shuts his eyes so tightly that tears begin to build, but he refuses to let them fall, not yet. 

He can hear your body shuffle, and then a delicate hand is placed on his cheek. He keeps his eyes closed but leans into the touch, grazing his rosy cheeks. And that is when he feels it. Plush lips pressing against his in a kiss he can barely register. It's so soft he can barely feel it. You were so gentle that he almost didn’t kiss you back. 

He struggles to let go of the table, but his body stays still, unwilling to reach for you. Instead, his lips press forward, seeking a deeper kiss. He pours his heart and soul into every movement, and tears stream down his cheeks. You gently bring him closer, resting your forehead against his while your thumbs tenderly wipe away his tears.

The belt was long forgotten on the ground. You both stay their in silence, Hyunjin studying every breath you release, roses. He smelt those same roses. His eyes closed as he breathed deeply, his lungs swelled with that familiar smell and a smile danced along his lips. “Are you okay?” you said. Your voice shaky, that recent dominate tone gone and forgotten and replaced by something gentle, careful.

“So much better than okay” he replies, his hands finally leaving the edge of the table and grabbing hold of your waist. 

“Don’t worry I just left it in here” a voice call out beyond the meeting room door. 

Both you and Hyunjin’s eyes snap to the door…. Shit.

*****

Shit. Shit .Shit. 

No one. No one can see you like this. Panic courses through your veins like ice water, and every heartbeat feels like a silent drumroll of dread pounding against your ribcage. Hyunjin, ever perceptive, mirrors the raw panic etched across your face, his eyes wide and glistening with fear.

Footsteps thud ominously behind the door, each echo reverberating through the air like a countdown to impending doom. Your breath hitches in your throat as you sense the crushing weight of your situation pressing down on you. It’s only moments before the jingle of the doorknob slices through the tense silence, a chilling prelude to what’s about to unfold. “What do we do?” Hyunjin whispers, his voice trembling with pure horror.

Your lips part in a silent gasp, and your eyes widen as they dart around the cramped room, searching for a way out that isn’t there. The air is heavy and suffocating, thick with the scent of fear and desperation. Your heart sinks into the pit of your stomach when the doorknob rattles, sending a fresh wave of panic surging through you. In a frantic rush, you grab the collar of Hyunjin’s shirt, pulling him down toward the cold, unforgiving floor. You collapse with him, your pulse racing like a wild drum.

“Ah, here it is,” a voice calls from just beyond the door, dripping with malice. Instinctively, you bite down hard on your lip to suppress a whimper, and with a surge of urgency, you slam your hand over Hyunjin’s mouth, stifling any sound that could betray your hiding place.

“Alright, alright, I’m coming,” the voice continues, each word sending icy tendrils of fear spiraling through you. You hear the door click shut, sealing off the fleeting moment of hope. In that instant, the tension in the room is palpable. Both of you release a shuddering breath, but the momentary relief is short-lived as reality crashes back in. 

Memories race to the front of your mind like a gun shooting into the abyss. You brace yourself on your hands above Hyunjin. His cheeks are a lovely shade of pink, but no matter how delicate he looks, no matter how badly you want to feel his lips against yours again. This has all gone far enough. You get up quickly, heart racing as you straighten your outfit and smooth down your hair. Hyunjin mirrors you, but he’s a mess—his outfit is disheveled, his hair tousled, and the worry in his eyes is palpable. He’s terrified you’ll leave, and it grips you.

“I should go. It’s getting late,” you say, avoiding his gaze, the weight of his stare making it hard to breathe.

“Wait, please,” he pleads, reaching for your arm, but you’re already striding toward the door. Each echo of your heels feels like a countdown.

“Y/N, please,” he calls out, urgency lacing his voice.

You hit the elevator button, keeping your eyes fixed forward. You might lose your resolve completely if you dare meet those crystalline eyes again.

“Y/N, look at me, please.” His voice is laced with desperation, tearing at your heart. “Tell me that kiss didn’t scare you away.”

The elevator dings open, and you step inside, spinning around to press the button that seals you both in this small space. Hyunjin slips in right after you, and for a split second, you notice how out of place his tie is and how ruffled his shirt looks. It sends a jolt through you—a mix of desire and fear twisting in your belly.

As the doors close, he stands so close that you can feel the heat radiating from him. “Y/N…” His breathy voice calls to you, normally a melody you’d savor, but now it feels like a siren’s song pulling you deeper into chaos. You both crossed a line, and that knowledge is suffocating. The contract may have left room for this kind of touch, but your own mental barriers were supposed to keep you safe from this kind of connection. 

“This is too dangerous; too much is at risk,” you think, panic gripping you. “Goddamn it, Y/N!” he suddenly exclaims, slamming the emergency stop button, bringing the elevator to an abrupt halt. He grabs your wrist, spinning you around until your back hits the wall, his arms pinning your wrists above your head.

The gasp escapes your lips, sharp and raw—so loud it could shatter glass. The roles reversed have your head spinning out of control. 

“Will you please look at me?” You can’t look away. You're stunned to silence. Your chest is heaving. 

“You- your,” he stumbles. His eyes are frantic, searching yours for something, anything that screams he crossed the line, but he doesn’t see it. He only sees a cocktail of lust and shock.

“I’m being dominated,” you let out in a whisper. You both giggle, but he makes no move to remove your wrists. Hyunjin’s eyes dart to your lips and up to your eyes quickly. 

“Tell me that kiss didn’t scare you away,” his voice low to your ear, but his eyes hold an intensity that makes your heart swell. “It didn’t scare me,” you manage to reply, the words hanging in the air, heavy with unspoken desire. “I just—” The rest falters on your lips, caught in the heat of the moment. You glance up at the ceiling, seeking answers in the shadows above, but nothing comes. Biting your lip, you feel the thrill of vulnerability as you expose your neck, a silent invitation that hangs between you.

As if something urged him, Hyunjin leans forward. His lips smother your neck, and his teeth and tongue dance across your skin. A moan escapes you. Never would you have imagined Hyunjijn taking control in a situation like this. Taking the initiative like he would on any given day, but not with you. He always reserved his commanding side for the office, leaving the gentle, submissive side to you. 

This was different. His kisses felt desperate and needed as if he were communicating a secret message with every kiss. 

In that moment, you don’t think or want to think. All you crave is to feel—every desperate swipe of his tongue, every pleading caress of his lips. 

“Hyunjin,” you gasp, and for a fleeting second, his confidence wavers. He pulls away, his eyes shimmering with uncertainty. 

“Don’t leave,” he pleads, his voice thick with urgency. Those two words crumble your last defenses, unleashing a torrent of emotions that threaten to drown you, plunging you into a chaos you know is dangerous. 

“I won’t,” you promise, though your heart races with fear and longing. 

His smile is a lifeline, reaching his ears as he crashes his lips against yours, sealing this moment in desperation. “Come with me,” he urges, and your brow furrows in confusion. “Come home with me.”

….

[physalian]

Describing skin tones with food!

I am 100% not any authority on how you should describe non-white skin-tones, disclaimer.

I remember reading in a few places when writing my various diverse casts on ways to describe traits that are culturally specific here, but can’t really be called the same in fantasy settings (like dreadlocks).

I had a sensitivity reader for a Black-coded character who called me out on accidentally saying she was “white-knuckling” something. Honest mistake, I didn’t think twice about what “white-knuckling” literally means, it’s always been shorthand to convey fear and stress. Whoops.

But the other thing I remember seeing in quite a few places was avoiding using food to describe darker skin tones, and the one food I saw everywhere was, of course “chocolate”.

Majority consensus was that using food as a descriptor can look derogatory, especially something like chocolate that tends to also pop up in fiction that fetishizes darker skin tones, it’s always chocolate. Food is something you consume for pleasure, not something that denotes respect and autonomy of a person.

It's a small, small thing, and I don't think one instance of 'chocolate' is going to earn you a spot on a pyre, but it is cliche, and we can do better!

Issue then being that when you think of brown things, the immediate options you think of aren’t the same caliber as pale things. Wood types, and even then those are… eh? Mud is brown, dirt is brown, clay can be brown. Most woods aren't a perfect match-up for the wide range of darker skin tones and saying "her skin was black like black wood" is ridiculous and "her skin was black as soil" is insulting.

I think nuts and other natural materials are okay? (not the authority, not the authority at all) But it does then come down to which similes you use dependant on the story you're writing. If we're writing about a nature sprite and say their skin is the color of an acorn... yeah that tracks. If I'm writing a CEO of a major coporation, and describing their skin as the color of acorns, that's weird.

Whiteness on the other hand gets things like snow, paper, milky, creamy, alabaster, ivory, lily, daisy, etc. Even when whiteness is described with food, ‘milky’ doesn’t carry the same undertones as ‘chocolatey’.

I do go out of my way, for characters where it fits, to deliberately describe white skin tones with food just to shake up the balance a little bit and see if anybody notices.

So! Some pale-skinned food comparisons if anyone else wants to try with varying levels of cheekiness, and also to emphasize just why ‘chocolate’ can be a little bit insulting:

Cream

Milk

Eggshell

Powder

Banana

Yoghurt

Pear

Mozzarella

Cauliflower

Mushroom

Potato

Butter

Macadamia

Cashew

Parsnip

Water chestnut

Coconut

Truffle

Tofu

Wonder Bread

Sushi rice

In all seriousness, I used this post as part of my research way back when. At the end of the day, you don’t usually have to get that specific, certainly not every time mentioning their skin pops up in the narrative.

I can imagine using the above words if a character is either joking or insulting someone else ("that cauliflower fuck"), but not in any casual context, much less romantic or as a means to describe attractiveness. It’s just for fun plz see the satire.

[lovelymylene]

FROSTED FLAKES pt.1

In the summer of ‘76,, Matt meets a walking social disaster. In simpler terms.. a girl. I know. Matt Sturniolo and girls aren’t exactly a match made in heaven. But maybe this one is an exception?

September 14, 1976 – A Warm, Late-Summer Evening

The air smelled like gasoline and fading sunlight, warm in that way September gets when summer refuses to let go. The pavement still held onto the heat of the afternoon, radiating up through the soles of Matt Sturniolo’s sneakers as he walked home from McCleary’s Market with a bag of records under his arm. The sky had that golden, hazy look, half dusk, half dream, where everything feels a little too quiet, like the world is holding its breath before night fully settles in.

Matt liked moments like this. When the streets were mostly empty, the radio static in his head quieted, and the only sound was the scuff of his sneakers against the sidewalk.

Then, out of nowhere—

BAM.

A blur of curls. A crash. The sharp edge of a shopping cart jamming into his hip.

Matt stumbled back, nearly dropping his records, as someone practically barreled into him outside the market. A girl.

“Oh my god,” she gasped, immediately grabbing his arms like she could keep him upright through sheer force of will. “Are you okay? Jesus, I wasn’t looking—well, obviously I wasn’t looking, because if I was looking, you wouldn’t be half-dead on the sidewalk right now, but—oh no, did I break something? Are you gonna sue me? Wait, do people actually do that? I mean, I wouldn’t sue if I got hit with a shopping cart, but—”

Matt just blinked at her, trying to process what the hell just happened.

The girl, who had massive brown eyes and a mess of dark curls that looked like they had a mind of their own, stared back at him expectantly, waiting for a response.

“…You talk a lot,” he muttered.

She grinned. “Yeah, I get that a lot.”

And then, before he could say anything else, she reached into his grocery bag, dropped a box of Frosted Flakes inside, and walked off like nothing happened.

Matt stood there for a long moment, watching her bounce away down the sidewalk, talking to an old lady who looked very confused but not entirely displeased by her presence.

What the hell just happened?

And, more importantly…

Who was she?

@issysh3ll

Authors note.. (Okay a few things this is my first series that I wanted to start and I have a few questions. Do you guys want her to have a name and be her own character or do you want it to be a reader type thing. And also I tried to write this in a rom com type style so if you don’t like it pls lmk. Tell me anything you don’t like. And lastly do you guys want smut in this later on? Because that’s definitely possible)

taglist.. @italiansunsetsss @b1gba113r @st7rnioioss-alt @sincerlykelsss @throatgoat4u @wiseladypoetry @gracieabrmslvr @sweetangelgirl7 @pearlzier @1-hypegvrl @piperrrr-16 @mackyyyk @luna443 @flowerxbunnie @cwemetrys @calliepie @cupidsword @recklesssturniolo @littlebookworm803 @blissfulxsins @camsturnz @st7rnioioss @rempessturniolo

[xylatox]

Criminal Conscience by the lovely Serene!! The synopsis was so intriguing I am so excited to see where this goes. Unfortunate I never got to read it before it was revamped but I'm glad I get to read it now :)

Instantly in love, like the line; It was cold. Your cheeks were wet, and whether that was from the rain pouring down on you, or the endless tears streaming down your face you didn’t know. But it was cold. The repetition at the beginning and end of this relating to the cold, what the fuck I eat that up so bad. Something about how you introduced Beomgyu here is so insanely attractive and idk how else to phrase it into words. Maybe it's the fact that he's a criminal (mama I'm in love with a criminal) but I absolutely want to sink my teeth into Gyu, no joke.

Omg, it's present day, did not expect the lovely Yeonjun to appear and I also have a carnal desire to sink my teeth into him. I already love the relationship between them, like despite YJ being her senior she's comfortable with him and it shows, from the banter when she finally reaches the room to him reassuring her that he's on the other side of the glass is so fucking cute.

Also I think the foreshadowing is so good, like the lipstick in the engravings, her still putting it on despite the meaning behind it and then low and behold Gyu being in the interrogation room, Serene you have done it again. I love that YJ is responsible to immediately try to take her off the case because that is the policy but him caving just this once for reader is sweet (in a very yay mystery crime way).

Again, I'm going to say this for all the tapes, but criminal!Beomgyu has me on such a fucking chokehold it is actually insane. He's so hot in ways that I don't even wanna go into like it's not okay😭. Beomgyu’s gaze soon flickers back to you, the smirk on his lips returning within seconds. “But you would know all about that wouldn’t you?” His eyes flash with underlying desire, “I went easy on you the first time.” — Like what if I fuck him on the investigation table then what LOL.

The flashback to when they met, I'm like reader and intrigued by Beomgyu so bad, it is probably my (somewhat) bad judgement of character but he's so AHHH yknow, he has the aura. Like even Kayla's words have no effect on me rn. There's something so exhilarating about the moment between reader and Gyu at the end, I feel like I relate to reader on so many levels, like there's just something about Beomgyu that has you addicted yknow. And that was exactly how you became infatuated with Choi Beomgyu. — the ending line to tape one, again amazing, fuck, Serene always eats.

The end of Tape 1! I love that it goes between the past and present and I will always love Serene's writing. Like I'm so downbad for Beomgyu here it's actually a bit concerning but I'm so excited to see where it goes. I always love and live for a good crime plot so I'm so so excited to see what's next! (I will probably yap about how bad I wanna fuck Beomgyu for every tape release).

𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐂𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 TAPE 01

𝓓𝐑��𝐀𝐌 𝓔𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐘 ⸝⸝ Moving rapidly through your career as one of the leading female investigators, you never once encountered a case you couldn't crack. Though you never expected for your past mistakes to come back and haunt you in the form of an ex lover, accused of murder. ⸝⸝

𝓹airings criminal!beomgyu x detective!reader 𝔀arnings blood, character death, descriptions of violence/slight gore, implied sexual encounters, womanizer!beomgyu, making out, penetrative sex, public sex, alcohol consumption.

📼 THE TAPE RECORDINGS

𝓣𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝓢𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘 contains dark themes portraying unhealthy and toxic relationships and substance abuse. reader discretion is advised ! — this story is partly told in flashbacks, beware of timestamps as past/present are mixed throughout the story.

#serene adds ✎.. heh, realised after I hit post that I forgot to add a little note for myself on here. hmm... criminal conscience yes, I missed this series, a lot :3 super happy for it to be back, and better than ever !

[ ▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။| TAPE 01 ] — Stay Away From Choi Beomgyu — recording length; 5.9k

📼 —  April 5th 2023

It was cold. Your cheeks were wet, and whether that was from the rain pouring down on you, or the endless tears streaming down your face you didn’t know. But it was cold. It was dark too, awfully so. Yet you could clearly make out the image of him, his hunched over figure, his bloody hands moving without even the slightest tremble as they clenched and unclenched into fists. For a moment it looked like he wanted to reach out, to touch you. 

The way you flinched, taking a quick step backward made him frown. “Dollface..” He tries, his voice uncharacteristically soft, the tension on his face easing up, if just for a moment. But you won’t hear it. Fuck, you could take the drugs, the lying and the cheating…Suppose you never were together in the end, not officially at least. — And you could take it. All of it. 

This was different. This was… You glance between the blood on his shirt, down to his bruised knuckles. You knew what he’d done. Something truly unforgiving, something evil, inhumane. Beomgyu was a terrible person. For months you’d let yourself be blindsighted, too caught up on trying to fit him into the life you’d imagined, into a life that would never be his. Because that was not who he was. 

You thought things would be different with you. That you somehow stood out from the rest, that maybe… Maybe he wasn’t as bad as people made him out to be. But you should’ve known. You should’ve known to stay away from Choi Beomgyu. 

“You’re a monster.” 

It happens before you can even stop it, the way the words fall from your quivering lips. Your voice is strained with the effort of keeping down another sob, and your breath comes out shaky with each exhale. — He doesn’t look surprised, in fact his expression remains perfectly unreadable, just like it always did. That hurts the most you think. 

He takes a step forward, his shoes making a wet noise against the muddy ground. The rain makes his clothes cling to his body, his dark hair matted against his face, shielding his dark eyes from view until he pushes the strands back. — “C’mon dollface, we can work this out.” The once sweet nickname now made you feel sick. Butterflies no longer surged within your stomach, though, you’re not so sure that they ever had. 

You shake your head, adamant in your decision as you swallow. “Stay away from me.” Even though your voice is close to cracking it seems to break his trance, and Beomgyu looks confused for the first time. It would’ve been an almost satisfactory sight, had it not been for your current situation. But one quick glance toward the blood smeared all over him makes you want to vomit. 

“I never want to see you again.” 

And you hoped you never would. With all of your heart and being you wished to never see Choi Beomgyu ever again. 

⸝⸝ 

📼 — PRESENT TIME ; February 19th 2024

“Hello?” 

Your words are followed by a thick silence and after almost twenty seconds you sigh. “Are you calling from downstairs again? You know the connection there is terrible.” Another minute passes, and you listen to the bruising noise of nothing for what feels like forever until Yeonjun’s voice finally breaks through on the device. 

“Hello? Oh, there you are!” He sounds almost surprised over the fact that the line seemed to actually be working. “Yes, yes I know I shouldn’t be calling from down here, but the elevator’s broken..” — He clears his throat before rapidly continuing. “Alright, I’ve got someone for you, can you make it down to room 31 in ten?” 

The groan passing your lips rings out into your office, bouncing off the walls and surely picking up on the phone despite the shitty connection. “Do you know what time it is? I’ve just barely made it here..” You grumble, yet you’re already rising from your chair, eager to be assigned a case from your senior. 

Yeonjun hums and you hear the clicking sound of what you assumed to be a pen. “We’ve kept him detained all night, best to get going quickly so we can move him over this afternoon.” He sounds absentminded when he speaks, as if his attention was elsewhere, likely reading off of the file in his hands. Still, you frown at his words. 

“Move him? To where, custody? How do you know we’ll have to do that?” Yeonjun doesn’t answer right away, which was unusual for him, and you pause with your hand on the door handle. — “I think it’s best you just come down here”, he then says, the finalisation in his tone evident. You bite the inside of your cheek, your mind suddenly swimming with questions you longed to ask. But you shrug them off, twisting the handle as you step outside. 

“Alright, I’ll be there.” 

The walk to the basement where the interrogations took place was an even longer one today. With no elevator you’re forced to stumble down four sets of stairs, silently vowing to yourself never to wear heels to work ever again. 

Fishing through your pockets, you grab onto the first thing you come across. A small tube of red lipstick, the engravings on its container made your heart skip a beat as you recognized its origin. Oh. You thought you’d gotten rid of that.. But the small cosmetic seemed to have made it during your move not long ago. How odd. 

The sound of your heels come to an abrupt halt as you stop to apply the red tint to your lips, using the camera on your far too old phone as a mirror. Despite its long history, the color remained just as bold as it had been when it was brand new. For some reason the revelation made your chest contract. — Screw it, you thought as you pushed the container back into the depths of your pocket. You would make sure to get rid of it on your way home. The past should remain the past, and for good reasons too. 

Interrogation room 31 is by the very end of the hall. The lights here had yet to be switched out and some of them flickered in a most uncanny way, setting the scene for something akin to a horror movie. However your worries come to ease when you spot your senior outside the door. Leaning against the wall, Yeonjun pushes his glasses further up the bridge of his nose as his eyes remain glued to the files in front of him. 

“Took you long enough”, he huffs without taking his eyes off the clipboard. You raise a threatening fist his way but lower it again with a small grin, “whatever.” Yeonjun cocks an eyebrow your way but doesn’t make an attempt to comment as he instead sighs. — “23 year old male, brought in yesterday around 1am..” He begins, his expression quickly schooling into a more professional one, and you’re instantly reminded of how he used to be when you trained under him. 

He flips the paper, eyes dropping as he scans the written documents. “He’s in for first degree murder and attempted arson.” Shit, that’s serious. — “Are there any witnesses?” You ask, interrupting him when your curiosity gets the better of you. Though it would likely be far too soon to determine that. Yeonjun shakes his head, “None have come forward, besides it’s still too early to say.” You nod, heat rising on your cheeks at the small misstep. 

“Then, how is he linked to the crime?” 

Yeonjun’s eyes snap toward you upon hearing your words, his jaw twitching ever so slightly. “Victim’s DNA on him”, he says as he hands you the file belonging to the victim. Your gaze immediately falls on the number of pictures already gathered from the scene. From the blood covered floorboards to the discarded knife, the bloody bathtub and the victim himself. 

“Park Baekhyun”, Yeonjun says as he points to the picture snapped of a man in his mid thirties. He was bruised from head to toe, his limp body awkwardly laid in the full tub. “34, male, cause of death was asphyxiation due to his head being held underwater for an extended period of time.” 

Once he’s reached the end of his small debrief, your jaw hangs slack. Whoever did this had no intentions of sparing the poor man. And judging by the way the scene looked, they didn’t seem to ever have.

“Will you be alright with this one?” Your senior’s question pulls your attention from the files in your hand, and you quickly nod. “Of course!” This was your first big case, and there was no way you would back down now, not when an opportunity had presented itself like this. 

Yeonjun leans over to unlock the door, his hand on the handle when he turns to you. “Remember I’m always-” — “On the other side of the glass, I know.” You finish with a small smile, and Yeonjun scoffs as he shakes his head. 

Interrogation rooms are small, their walls stripped bare and sterile. With no windows and not even a clock to tell the time, the space feels nearly suffocating. A metal table is placed by the center of the room, adorned with scratches and uneven sections from its years of mistreatment. Above it hangs a single fluorescent light, casting the room in an almost clinical glow. 

The man before you sits on one of the uncomfortable chairs, his head bowed and his cuffed hands resting on the table. His long dark hair shields his face from view, and you find your own gaze dropping to the files in your hands once more as you slide into the seat opposite him. 

You clear your throat, the quietness of the room only amplifying the sound of you swallowing again. “You’re being investigated on the grounds of first degree murder of Park Baekhyun and attempted arson against his property. You have the right to remain silent and or request for an attorney. Keep in mind that anything you say here can be used against you in court.” 

Exhale. 

With a quick glance toward the thick glass window to your left, you allow yourself a momentary break. No matter how hard you squint, it was impossible to make out anything on the other side. But you knew that Yeonjun was watching, and it made everything ten times more surreal. — When you notice that the suspect has yet to speak, you turn your attention back to him. 

He remains in front of you, with his head bowed as his fingers absentmindedly tap against the cool metal table. Your breath catches in your throat when you survey the dark rings adorning almost each and every one of his fingers, they looked oddly familiar. But before you have time to ponder the matter further, he lifts his gaze. 

His dark hair falls from his face, making his equally dark eyes meet yours, instantly they seize you with a look you knew all too well. The persistent tapping of his fingers come to an abrupt halt as his lips curl into a menacing smirk, the one that used to make your stomach twist. In that moment, you knew that he knew. Still, you deny it, hands fervently flipping the files as you replace the victim’s with his. 

Your heart plummets through the floor when your eyes land on the name, and suddenly it all makes sense. He was bound to end up in this room one day, you knew that, you had known that for a long time. You just… Had never imagined to be the one on the other side. 

His smirk only widens, exposing the sharp and shiny teeth that had grazed your skin so many times before. A breathy laugh rumbles within his chest, but he doesn’t take his eyes off of you, not once. He exhales with a short breath: 

“Dollface. It’s been a while hasn’t it?” 

The pet name makes an ice cold shiver crawl up your spine. You push down the insults waiting on your tongue, the months of resentment and the anger. Inhaling slowly, you remain perfectly still. He studies you close, dark eyes narrowing as he tilts his head to the side. It was as if he was trying to calculate your next move, you knew that he could. 

“Beomgyu.” The name tastes foul in your mouth, making you want to spit it out. You thought you’d left him behind, left him for good. For ten months you had tried to recover from him, from everything he’d put you through. All of it for nothing. Now he was closer than ever, within an arm's reach, if you so wished to touch him. 

His smirk only widened, he was enjoying this, you could tell it thrilled him. “In the flesh”, he says, his voice a low drawl as he drinks in your slightly bewildered expression. There were so many things you wanted to tell him, so many things you wished to get off your chest. But before you can even get a word out, the door to the interrogation room is slammed open. 

You don’t have to look to know who it is. Yeonjun’s presence could be felt from miles away as he looms over you. “A word outside”, is all he says, before promptly turning on his heel and walking out again. — You don’t take your eyes off of Beomgyu when you rise to your feet, and the smirk on his face persists even when you exit the room. 

“Alright, what’s going on?”

Your senior’s voice echoes down the vacant hallway and you wince at the accusation of his tone. How did you tell him, how did you come clean about the fact that you had history with the man currently detained and cuffed on the other side of the door. — Pulling your bottom lip between your teeth, you hesitantly chew on it as your eyes dart between the floor and the walls, anywhere but him. 

“Well I… Sort of knew him..” The words come out awkward, and you grimace at the way you presented the situation. Yeonjun’s frown only deepens, the crease on his forehead becoming even more prominent. “Knew?” He presses, and you suddenly feel as if you were the one being interrogated. This was not how your first case was supposed to go. 

“Well.. I haven’t seen him in a long time.” You press your lips into a thin line, forcing yourself into a more upright stance as you try your best at holding his gaze. — “How long?” Yeonjun counters, to which your heart sinks. How long has it been? You hardly kept track, for Choi Beomgyu was someone you longed to forget. “Ten months”, you finally say. 

Your senior sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers as he bites the inside of his cheek. He remains quiet for a good minute and you anxiously fiddle with the hem of your sleeves, glancing over your shoulder to make sure that no one was witnessing the most embarrassing conversation taking place. 

“I’ll take you off the case.” 

No. He can’t do that, can he? Well he technically could. Still, it was an option you refused to consider. “No.” You promptly say, rolling your shoulders back once as you prepare to face his rejection. You didn’t know why your first thought was to refuse, why a pang shot through your chest at the idea of having the case go to someone else, but it did. 

Selfish as you were, you thought you needed this case for your own gain. Whether it was to find some sort of closure for the way things ended, or perhaps even to satisfy your own curiosity. Either way, you knew that this case belonged to you. — “I’m confident that I can do this.” Your voice doesn’t waver, and your gaze is firm as you peer up at Yeonjun. 

Your senior sighs, carding his fingers through his hair as he mutters something under his breath. “It’s against policy and I shouldn’t-” — “Please, Yeonjun.” You take a step forward, hopeful eyes silently pleading with him. 

“I could be of great help, I’m certain of it, please just give me a chance.” — Yeonjun doesn’t look convinced, his dark brows furrowed as he glances between you and the shut door. Patiently you wait as he thinks to himself, your heart thrumming in your ears as you refuse the urge to beg him further. 

Finally, he huffs, shaking his head once, as if in disbelief of himself. “Alright, but if I notice that things are getting out of hand you’re off, are we clear?” 

Eagerly you nod, “Of course. Thank you, sir!” You catch the way he rolls his eyes, coughing slightly as he dismisses you with the wave of his hands. “Don’t act formal with me now”, he tsks, shooting you a small sideway glance. He reaches for the handle once more, holding the door open for you as you enter the suffocating interrogation room a second time that day. 

The silence is deafening as you step back inside, the sound of the door clicking shut behind you echoing off the four confined walls. Beomgyu remains seated, mindlessly fiddling with the rings on his fingers, the cuffs around his wrists scraping against the metal table. — You force yourself to remain stoic as you approach once more, carefully taking your seat opposite him as you place your files down in front of you. 

You clear your throat, ready to begin the initial interview when he suddenly speaks. “You look different.” He presents the statement causally as he leans back in his chair, it makes a squeaking noise at the action. Your heart pounds against your ribcage and you swallow as you hold his gaze. — “People change”, you say, your throat suddenly feeling dry. 

Beomgyu shakes his head, his dark and piercing gaze trailing along your figure. “But you act the same.” His lips stretch into a menacing smirk and you have to force the memories of those very lips against your own and all over your body, out of your head. Focus. You couldn’t afford to be taken off the case. 

“Last night”, you start off strong, your voice firm as you finally divert your attention from the files you’d been clinging onto, “You were present at Park Baekhyun’s property around 1am. What were you doing there?” 

The smirk has yet to fall from his face and Beomgyu cocks an eyebrow your way as he lets go of the rings he’d been fiddling with. “Cleanin’ up a mess”, the nonchalant tone he used masks any hint of unease he might be experiencing. 

“What kind of mess?” 

A glimmer of mischief flashes across his almost black eyes, it was one you recognized. His tongue prods against the inside of his cheeks, his hands flat against the metal table. “Well certainly not the ones we used to make.” The mockery made your skin crawl and you fought back the insults surfacing as you clenched your jaw. 

“Please refrain from straying off topic”, you say, your voice eerily calm. Beomgyu rolls his eyes, but doesn’t attempt to argue as he regards you with a bored expression. “One of my employee’s messed up”, he shrugs, “Fairly new to the job so I can’t really hold him accountable.” — You watch as his eyes flicker over to the window on his right, his gaze narrowing on the thick glass. 

“You gotta go easy on the newbies”, he then adds without tearing his attention from the window. And even though he couldn’t see Yeonjun, he without a doubt knew that he was there. For a moment, it felt almost as if he was addressing your senior and not you. 

Beomgyu’s gaze soon flickers back to you, the smirk on his lips returning within seconds. “But you would know all about that wouldn’t you?” His eyes flash with underlying desire, “I went easy on you the first time.” 

He didn’t. Perhaps that was why you remembered your first encounter with Choi Beomgyu to this day. 

⸝⸝ 

📼 — March 28th 2022 

The floor thumps in rhythm to the loud bass that echoes from the DJ booth. Sweaty bodies are pressed against one another as people tear their way through the dancefloor. The fluorescent lights blind you as they flash from purple to blue to green and back to purple again. — Perched awkwardly on a high stool by the bar, you watch as the night unravels before you. 

Clubs had never been your forte. Especially not during the weekends where they seemed to host a home for the whole city as everyone drank their day to day problems away. Your eyes scan for Kayla, she was the one who’d brought you here in the first place. After listening to her persistent whining for almost an hour you had finally caved, but at what cost? 

As soon as your coats had been left, she’d darted for the dancefloor, not as much as a second thought about you as she searched for her next victim. You shouldn’t even be surprised anymore, it was in her nature honestly. 

You’ve already emptied two glasses, and now you’re tapping the cool rim against your lips as you aimlessly peer out over the crowd. The idea of another drink enticed you, but your wallet strongly disagreed with that idea, thus you were left far too sober for your own liking as you avoided any attempts at socialising. You weren’t here to make friends, much less fuck around. 

It was then, in the midst of a heavy sigh, that your eyes fell on him. Back then you hadn’t known his name, you hadn’t known anything of what was to come. Your first thought was that he wasn’t your type. And you wanted to leave it at that, to let your eyes continue their endless roam and forget about him, but you couldn’t. 

Your gaze clung to him as it trailed along his dark and long hair, perfectly framing his sharp features. Then to the half-hearted smirk he wore, to his dark clothes and the black rings around almost each and every one of his fingers. And then finally to his eyes, darker and all the more menacing than the rest of him, they seemed to glow under the neon lights. 

For some reason, he was looking at you too. Despite the two half-naked girls draped over him, their hands insistently clawing at every part of him they could access, undoubtedly whispering beyond filthy shit in his ears with sickeningly sweet giggles. — Why was he looking at you?

He wasn't alone, far from it. The small booth he occupied held, not only him and the two girls, but at least three other guys as well, all wearing the same brooding expressions. You should look away, pretend like you’d never seen him in the first place, but the longer you stared at him, and the longer he stared back, it became increasingly more difficult. 

His smirk widens when he brings his glass to his lips, and over the rim you catch the sly wink he sends you. Your heart stumbles over its next beat, your own glass stuttering against your chin as you grip it tighter. 

It wasn’t like you weren’t used to getting hit on, or even subtly flirted with. But there was something undeniably different about this man. Despite your earlier complaints on your sobriety, you suddenly felt intoxicated in a way you never had before. 

And so you did the only reasonable thing left to do. You winked back. 

He chuckles, even though you’re unable to hear it, you can see it in the way his chest rises and falls. His ring clad hand slides along the thigh of one of the girls, who giggled as she leaned in to kiss his neck. He seemed to pay her little mind, those same dark eyes still fixed on you.. 

“Don’t even think about it.” 

Kayla’s voice is sharp, and it snaps your attention from the stranger and over to your friend as she takes the seat next to yours. Slouched over the bar, she orders herself a glass of water which she begins gulping down. — “What?” You question as you watch her wipe her lips. 

“That guy, the one you were eyeing”, she points in the direction of the man you’d just been gawking at, “He’s no good.” She gives a firm nod, glass gripped tightly in her hand as she peers down at the liquid floating around. — “How’d you know?” You scoff as you, too, turn back to the bar. Perhaps she was jealous of you succeeding in finding someone when she wasn’t, it wouldn’t be a first. 

But Kayla only huffs, her nails tapping against the glass as she purses her lips. “Only uses women for his own personal gain and pleasure, you’ll get hurt.” 

“What if I only seek pleasure?” That was a lie, because you didn’t, far from it. You were nothing like Kayla, at least you liked to think you weren’t. —- “Then I suggest you seek it elsewhere, I meant what I said, he’s bad news.” 

“How do you know that?”

Her knowledge about this stranger intrigued you. Had she hooked up with him before and got jealous by the possibility of you doing the same? Had he rejected her? 

Kayla sighs, her expression taking on an almost melancholic form as she sets her glass down. “Do you remember Shay?” She suddenly asks and you frown, confused by the mention of her old friend. “Yeah? You haven’t mentioned her in a while, did something happen?” 

Your friend snorts, throwing a glance over her shoulder as she nods toward the man by the booth. “Yeah, he did. – One night she’s off with him, next time I see her is two weeks later, drugged out of her fucking mind and unable to stand on her own goddamn legs.” A visible shiver runs down Kayla's spine as she recalls the events in her head. 

Turning back to the counter, she picks up her glass, “Besides, I’ve never seen him with the same woman twice.” With that, she downs the remaining water before pushing the now empty glass away. — “Better to try your luck on the dancefloor, hm?” She suggests as she attempts to pull you along. 

“I’m fine here.” You give her a small smile, watching as she nods before turning to disappear through the thick crowd. 

As much as you tried to keep your gaze from wandering, it somehow ended up by that godforsaken booth yet again. Except this time, the man seemed far too busy to spare your hopeless stares as much as a second glance. One of the girls had crawled onto his lap, shielding most of his face from view as she pressed her lips to his. 

His fingers squeezed around her hips before his hands traveled down the curve of her ass, barely covered by the ridiculously short skirt she wore. — They only broke apart for him to mutter something to one of the others present, their following laughter almost overpowering the loud music. 

With a small grimace you finally tear your gaze from the sight, slumping back against the bar with a tired sigh. This night seemed to drag on forever. Perhaps you could call a cab home, Kayla would probably want to stay at least another two hours, something that you weren’t quite feeling. 

You brace your hands on the countertop with the intention of heaving yourself from your chair and search for your friend when the bartender suddenly catches your attention. Wordlessly he places a drink in front of you, making your head jerk up as you give him a confused look. “I didn’t order–” 

“Booth 12”, he nodded to somewhere behind you but you hardly needed to turn around to know where this drink had come from. With your heart in your throat, you take the cool glass, eyeing the pinkish hue of the contents that swirled around the ice cubes. Why had he bought you this? Hesitantly you bring the glass to your lips, taking a small sip as you let the liquid slip down your throat. 

It tasted sweet, and you quickly found yourself going back for more. But hadn’t he been busy just a few moments ago.. Perhaps you’d read him wrong. — Suppose you could finish this drink and then head home. But you can barely get as much as another sip in before the seat next to yours becomes occupied. 

Through the corner of your eye you can easily make out his long dark hair, the faint smirk on his lips as he clasps his hands on the counter in front of him. For a moment, there’s an awkward silence hanging over the two of you. He doesn’t say anything as he gazes ahead, part of you wondered if he’d even come here with the intention of talking to you at all. 

You take another sip of your drink, desperate for the liquor to take effect. The man shifts in his seat, and you feel as though you were on fire when his head turns in your direction. Even with no words he managed to make your heart beat in a frenzy as you clutched your glass tightly. 

His dark and piercing gaze is unforgiving as it roams your figure, undoubtedly lingering where it shouldn’t. It was like he knew no shame. You should’ve told him off, you should’ve gotten up and left. For some reason you find yourself staring at him with equally invading eyes. 

“I haven’t seen you here before.” 

It’s the first time he speaks, his head falling to the side as he studies you. “You new around town?” His voice is smooth, clean of any stuttering or awkwardness. A small part of you envied how easily he seemed to be carrying himself. — You shake your head, “No.” 

The man raises an eyebrow, and you don’t stop him when he reaches for your drink. The rings around his fingers make a clanking sound against the glass as he takes it and brings it to his lips. “Then what? Not your crowd?” He asks before taking a sip, his eyes never leaving you. 

“No, I suppose not..” You gingerly admit, not wanting to highlight the fact that you were completely out of your element. But judging by the way he looked at you, his silent demeanor practically eating you alive, he probably knew that already. — He places your glass back down, gently pushing it back your way as he wordlessly encourages you to drink more. You don’t know why you oblige. 

He takes the opportunity of you sipping on your drink to introduce himself. “Choi Beomgyu”, he says, the smirk on his lips widening as he does. The name fit him, oddly enough. Perhaps it was a bad idea to give out your own name. He was a stranger, not to mention one that Kayla had specifically warned you about not long ago. Still, this man intrigued you beyond limits.. 

Beomgyu, as his name was, suddenly leaned closer and you could almost smell the liquor on his breath. “Come on dollface, you must have a name?” The nickname he so casually dropped made your stomach flip. — You tell yourself that this was just a game of his. Taking Kayla’s words into consideration, not to mention the fact that he had girls draped over him minutes ago, this wasn’t the first time he chatted someone up. You would not make a fool of yourself and fall for such cheap tricks. 

He’s silent as he waits for you to answer, but when you merely avoid his gaze and sip on your drink, he chuckles. The laugh is pulled from deep within his chest and it sounds raspy when it rolls off his tongue. Beomgyu leans back, running a hand leisurely through his long hair. “Hard to charm I see.” 

You don’t answer, but you can’t help but watch as he rests his elbows against the bartop, his finger dragging just below his bottom lip as he regards you with intrigue. — “Not your type?” You retort, your response coming out somewhat short. It was hard to fathom any reasoning behind his strange interest in you. 

“Far from it”, Beomgyu hums, though his glimmering eyes betray the words coming out of his mouth. The lower half of his face pulls into a lopsided grin, “But I’m not opposed to trying new things.” 

Your first instinct was to scoff, to tell him to fuck off back to wherever he’d emerged from. It’s strange. You find yourself completely unable to. Instead you push your nearly finished drink toward him once more, and Beomgyu takes it as he brings it to his lips. — If he wasn’t opposed to trying new things, then who says you weren’t either?” 

“Tell me your name.” 

His breath is hot on your neck, coming in short pants as he slams his hips against yours. The alleway is dark and vacant, shielding the two of you from prying eyes. Shoved against the brick wall, you’re pliant in his grasp as Beomgyu’s hands roam your body. With your skirt pushed high above your hips, the metal of his rings feel cool against your thighs as his fingers dig into your soft flesh. 

Was this a good idea? — It didn’t matter. Your nails rake along his shoulders, pulling him impossibly close. Beomgyu chuckles against the crock of your neck, his lips leaving sloppy kisses over your skin, pulling it between his teeth. 

This was so unlike anything you’d ever done before. Not that you were a prude, or anything of the sort. But something like this, in a place like this, where anyone could walk by and with a mere stranger no less.. Whatever. You figured he was just another promiscuous man with no other intentions than the last. You would use it to your advantage tonight, or at least so you thought. 

But for every kiss he placed against your body, for every quiet whisper of praise that slipped from his tongue, you found yourself slowly losing your last semblance of control. Beomgyu was not like any of your previous partners, he was new, exciting, exotic even. Something you’d never had before, and now that you’d gotten a small taste, you felt far from satisfied. 

Why did he want to know your name? Why did it matter if you were to never see one another after tonight? Still, his silent request is made clear when he presses your lips together in a feverish kiss. You gasp out at the feeling of his hard cock as it buries inside of your aching cunt, your thighs trembling as they remain wrapped around his waist. 

“Dollface”, he exhales into the kiss, his mouth warm and wet against yours. And when he pulls back for air, your dazed eyes meet his as you brace your hands on his chest. Licking your lips, you inhale slowly before finally giving out your name, your most vulnerable piece of information. 

He smirks, clearly thrilled by the admission. For a split second you wondered if you’d done the right thing. Perhaps it had all been one grave mistake. If it was, you weren’t given time to ponder it as he reconnets your lips, this time with a passion unlike anything you’d ever felt before. 

And that was exactly how you became infatuated with Choi Beomgyu.

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[delta-piscium]

Steddie | 1.7k words it is (swedish) midsummer so I wrote this based on my favorite old tradition because I can and will make anything steddie, so like glad midsommar (happy midsummer)

“What are you doing?” Steve asks as he follows Eddie to the hallway where he’s frantically putting on his shoes. 

“I almost forgot,” he mutters under his breath not acknowledging Steve at all.

“Forgot what?” 

“I can’t believe I almost forgot.” 

“Eddie,” Steve says a little louder, more adamant.

He does look up at Steve then and almost looks surprised to see him. As if he’d forgotten he was there, as if they haven’t been hanging out for hours. 

“Oh,” he says. “Uhm,” he squints at Steve who waits for him to continue, to explain. He doesn’t.

“Yes?” Steve implores because he would really like an explanation. Eddie had just abruptly stood up halfway through telling Steve about some folklore he’s using in his new campaign, just cut himself off mid-sentence and walked off. Steve doesn’t think it’s especially weird or demanding of him to have questions. 

“Did you have other plans that you just now remembered?” Steve frowns, starting to feel unsure when Eddie still isn’t saying anything. It’s just past eleven at night and Steve doesn’t know what plans those would be but he had showed up unannounced earlier in the evening so it’s not impossible that Eddie had plans that Steve interrupted. 

“No, no, no,” Eddie assures him finally breaking his silence, “it’s- okay it’s a little silly but I read this thing researching and I want to try it.” 

And well, okay then.

Steve raises his eyebrows and waves his hand gesturing for Eddie to go on. 

Eddie’s cheeks turn a light pink and he resolutely looks somewhere above Steve’s shoulder instead of at him. 

“Midsummer, which is today, is supposed to be this magical night and there are all these traditions and old myths about it.” 

Eddie glances at Steve and he smiles. Tries to show he’s listening and wants to know whatever thing Eddie read about. 

“And well, okay so there’s this one tradition where you pick seven different kinds of flowers before you go to bed and then put them under your pillow and you’re supposed to dream about who you’re gonna spend your life with.” 

Steve blinks, wasn’t expecting that and doesn’t know what to say about it, so, he blinks again. 

“Maybe it’s dumb, but with all we’ve seen magic and folklore don’t seem so far-fetched and,” he shrugs, “I wanna try. And like, it’s close to midnight and I don’t know if that’s a rule but I don’t wanna risk messing it up.”

“It- huh,” Steve frowns slightly and looks at his shoes then back at Eddie. “Yeah alright, let’s do it. Can’t hurt right?” 

His voice is light, like it’s not a big deal and just a fun thing Eddie read about because that’s what it is, isn’t it? But something about it settles deep in Steve’s gut. Makes it feel important in a way he’s not sure he could explain if he tried. Maybe it’s just the fact that Eddie is getting so worked up about the possibility of dreaming about the person he’s gonna spend his life with when Steve maybe a little bit wishes it would be him, but like, only a little. 

Eddie looks at him with wide eyes like he didn’t expect Steve to want to join, like maybe he expected Steve to make fun of him for wanting to do it. But then something seems to switch in him and a slow smile spreads over his face and he gives Steve an exaggerated once over. 

“Looking to find your true love huh, Harrington?” 

“I thought you said it was the person you spend your life with, not the same as true love necessarily.” Steve quips back because technicalities are easier to argue over than answering that question, especially when Eddie is the one asking.

Eddie shrugs. “Different sources say different things, sometimes it’s true love sometimes it’s who you marry.” 

“Well, then I guess we’re both looking to find our true loves?” Steve hedges, drags Eddie down with him if they’re gonna go there. 

A soft look passes Eddie’s face before a responds, voice quieter. “Guess we are, yeah.” 

They pick their flowers in silence, something about the magic being broken if you speak. Walking around the edge of the woods behind Eddie’s trailer a couple of feet apart, every once in a while coming together or crossing paths. 

After, Steve stands in between Eddie’s trailer and his own car. Holding on to his bouquet of seven flowers unsure what to do. He could go home, he should go home, but he doesn’t want to. He did have some beers hours ago and if he was allowed to speak he’d use that as an excuse to not drive and ask Eddie to crash on his couch. Right now he can’t though so he sighs inwardly and turns to his car. 

He makes it about two steps before a hand reaches out and grips him around his free wrist stopping him. When he turns around Eddie is giving him a look that very clearly says ‘stop being stupid’ and jerks his head towards the trailer silently telling Steve to go with him. He doesn’t let go though and uses his grip on Steve to drag him along like he can’t be sure Steve will actually listen and follow. As if Steve would ever not follow Eddie. 

They quickly get ready for bed. And again when Steve walks toward the couch Eddie grabs him and shakes his head. He waves his arms around a bit like that’s supposed to explain anything but Steve isn’t too bothered about an explanation anyways and easily follows Eddie to his bedroom. 

They’ve shared a bed before but always when they’ve been drunk or high so this feels different. Steve is a little glad they can’t speak or he’s sure he’d blurt out something way too revealing about it all. 

He avoids looking at Eddie as he tucks his flowers in under his pillow, knows Eddie is doing the same next to him. Is aware of it only being an old myth from a region halfway across the world but there’s a weight to it. Something real and tangible. 

He expects it to take a while for him to fall asleep like it always does. For him to twist and turn and lay awake until the early morning. For once though, that doesn’t happen. With the weight of Eddie next to him and to the sounds of his soft breathing and small movements, Steve falls asleep.

And he dreams. He dreams of big brown eyes and bright laughter. Of wild hair and warm arms embracing him. He dreams of growing old next to someone and how every wrinkle on their face tells a story of their shared love. 

He wants to stay in the dream forever, desperately tries to hold onto it even as he floats into consciousness. He turns and groans, gets a mess of someone’s hair in his mouth and nose and that’s enough to startle him into full wakefulness. 

Eddie grumbles next to him, clearly also just waking up. Steve looks at him, with his wild hair and his big brown eyes that are slowly blinking open and of course. Of course, it was Eddie he dreamed about.

Their eyes meet and Eddie freezes. Eyes widening as he looks back at Steve. 

“Oh,” he says. 

And yeah, oh.

“Eddie?” Steve asks, unsure of how to bring it up, to ask about it. If he even should? 

He puts on a teasing smile, even though he feels like goo inside, but making it lighthearted is all he can think of because what if he’s taking this whole thing way too seriously? Jumping to conclusions? 

“Dream of anyone?” 

Eddie nods and looks away, “I did.” He says it simply, voice careful. 

And maybe it isn’t just Steve.

“Who?” He asks, dropping the teasing tone. 

Eddie swallows and looks back at Steve. “The person I wanted to dream of,” he says and it’s not really an answer but he’s looking at Steve so intently he thinks it still might be. 

He thinks about Eddie’s quiet but delighted surprise at Steve wanting to join him yesterday. About Eddie dragging him first into his trailer and then into his bed. How they’re so close on Steve’s side of the bed and Eddie must have drifted towards him in his sleep.

He bites his lip to stop his smile from spreading too wide, there’s still a chance he’s misinterpreting things, “yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

“And who would that be?” Steve asks, leaning in even closer until he feels Eddie’s small puffs of breath across his face. 

“You,” Eddie whispers but Steve hears it clearly. 

He takes a moment to bask in it, to let it wash over him before he responds.

“That’s good,” Steve tells him eventually and Eddie’s eyes are so wide and open, and so pretty, “because I dreamt of you.” 

He knows it’s cheesy so he doesn’t give Eddie time to respond, just leans in and closes the remaining gap between them. Slots their lips together. Eddie gasps into the kiss, grabs Steve by the hair, and pulls him in. Makes all these cute noises that make Steve want and want and want. 

He shifts, goes to put his leg in between Eddie’s to move on top of him and get a better angle. But he only gets halfway before Eddie grabs his hips and twists them around. Pushes Steve flat on his back and straddles him. 

He grins down at Steve. 

“You think the Scandinavian magic worked or was it just dream psychology and wishful thinking?” 

“Does it matter?” Steve asks, way too earnestly. But like, they’ve just spent this whole time doing some true love magic so he thinks it’s fine, “got what I wanted.” 

“It’s forever though,” Eddie points out, bending down to bite at Steve’s jaw, “if we believe the old Norse people.” 

Steve hears the question there, thinks this might be Eddie’s way of asking what this means to Steve. His way of telling Steve this isn’t just a hookup for him.

“God yeah,” Steve exhales, “I fucking hope so.” 

He feels Eddie smile into his neck and grabs his hair, uses it to pull him back and steer him into another kiss. 

[milolunde]

We all know Timmy is Wanda’s mama’s boy but we need to keep in mind he’s still Cosmo’s kid too and that Cosmo would love him just as vehemently as Wanda

[plusultraetc]

oh how the poor sleeping habits tables have turned

[liskantope]

Been meaning to respond with some points here and also with an (pretty immediate after my earlier post) update to how I feel about this, which is still unsure of what Musk's intentions in the moment but generally feeling less generous towards the man.

Since writing the last post on this, I've seen this fairly classic video of Hitler saluting to a crowd in a call-and-response routine, and Hitler's salute is in fact somewhat in a side direction rather than in front of him. What I took even more notice of is that it involves a gesture towards his chest before the arm goes out, much like what Musk did -- previously I had felt like the gesture of hitting his heart before the "salute" was evidence against the act being a deliberate imitation of a Nazi salute, but now I realize the resemblance is fuller than I'd thought, even though Musk's towards-the-chest gesture is somewhat different from Hitler's and clearly indicates his heart.

Second one was more salute-y but he was turning around.

I think actually he was just turning to a different part of the crowd? Not sure on this.

The amount of variance in Nazi salutes from back in Nazi Germany times is interesting, and your bringing up mic drops and so on leads to the point that if we worked as strenuously to find ways to attack people based on sensitivity to anything within as wide a radius as possible of Nazi gestures as we do on finding fault with people based on sensitivity to some other offensive things, then a lot of currently perfectly acceptable everyday behavior would become problematic. But I'm not convinced that your point about the variation is really relevant to our speculation about Musk's intentions or our reaction to his behavior. What matters is not what the actual variation among Nazi salutes was back in the days of Naziism, which is only knowable to people who remember eighty-something years ago or people who have researched by watching lots of Nazi reels; what matters is our common collective conception of what a standard Nazi salute is. By that standard, Musk's gesture -- particularly the brusque motion itself apart from the final position of his arm -- looked a lot more Nazi-ish than mic drops or (say, because I've seen people posting this) Taylor Swift or Kamala Harris greeting to a crowd with an outstretched arm.

Not directly in response to your reblog, I've seen some more interesting discourse about how autism plays into this since my last post, including some people (like Robert Wright) going "Well, the autistic people I know are somewhat awkward, but none of them go around doing things that look like Nazi salutes" and others (I think Bill Maher) saying something like, "Autistic people are always doing something strange looking with their arms when they're celebrating." And the latter annoyed me, while at the same time I notice earlier in the Musk video that while he's walking out on stage in jubilation, he is kind of moving in a neurodivergent way. At the same time, I don't think this lends as much credence to the theory that his offensive gesture was a matter of being autisticly unaware of how his movement looked: we could flip that the other way and suppose that he was trying to make a Nazi salute and make the same argument to dismiss any point about the minor differences between what his motion and what Nazis do: "He may have been trying to signal to Nazis but somewhat awkwardly and inaccurately because of his autism."

You and someone else (in comments) pointed out some of Musk's views that I hadn't entirely been aware of which suggests it's not actually all that implausible that he could have Nazi sympathies (beyond him being cozy with Trump and Trump being fascisty etc.). In light of that, I think I went too far before with my italicized run-on rant about the "Resistance's" determination to make everything Trump-related out to be Nazi-ish (although I do expect to be exasperated at some points by how far that will go in Trump Part 2). And I think you're right that we should be focusing on that and treating, well, his stated views as the main evidence for his probable views over potential dog-whistling. But as to the question of what he intended with the gesture, to the extent that it matters... well, his stated views don't work too well in his favor.

Musk hasn't denied trying to signal Naziism as far as I know and has been using it as an excuse to troll instead. I still find it quite plausible that he didn't really mean to do it in the moment (with the "subconsciously mimicked the types of gestures he'd been exposed to that he thought looked cool and masculine and those unfortunately included Nazi gestures" version of this hypothesis seeming quite likely), but it's been suggested -- I think also quite plausibly -- that he made the gesture(s) deliberately, not out of sincere Nazi convictions, but to troll, to upset the Left so that he could point at them in the aftermath and mock them.

All-around not a good human being, at least that much is for sure.

I wish people more easily were able to separate "this is horrifyingly insensitive/offensive/inappropriate and nobody should do it and I have a right to be angry that someone did/said the thing" from "this is a confirmation of the offender actually having the worst-case belief whose existence is the reason for the thing being considered so offensive, and so I should feel unsafe because they did/said the thing".

[koterkot]

i'm probably a system but i have a job so idrc about that rn

[presidentofthelipglossclub]

no bc deadass the rescue bots are straight up mean as hell. like, they arent evil or immoral they’re just rude. to the point where they’re meaner than the decepticons ok like megatron kept avoiding actually gettind rid of starscream despite the constant murder attempts but heatwave was willing to get rid of two of the other bots (blades after he abandoned a rescue bc of an avalanche and blurr bc blurr). heatwave is more ruthless than megatron which is so damn funny. blades keeps insulting people for no good reason (sometimes it makes sense but like quickshadow’s accent and how she talks made him so upset). chase is harder to see but he’s willing to do anything to follow the rules and he tends to repeatedly bring up other people’s issues (i dont think i have to explain but like example is little white lies. that whole episode). boulder is very sweet most of the time but the instant heatwave gets in on it he does too. multiple times in the show this has happened (off the top of my head when blades got the scoop claw hw and boulder were laughing at him and when hw made fun of blades boulder laughed, also heatwave was saying blurr was super annoying and boulder agreed).

to be clear this is a good thing. i wanna see more complex characters who are still fundamentally good people!! you can be callous, have low empathy, be egotistical, get angry, make fun of ur friends and still make good choices and still help people. you at your worst and you at your best are still both you, but your worst being bad doesn’t mean your best isn’t good. especially because morality wise the rescue bots are the best people. i mean, they aren’t war criminals (or regular criminals), they don’t physically harm others, they don’t put others at risk (at least not intentionally), and they literally had to pretend to be actual machines while risking their lives every day. these people who treated them as essentially slaves were who they had to protect. and they did it, over and over again, without hesitation. and i think they deserve to be a bit rude for that, and because their meanness comes from caring. if they didn’t care they wouldn’t bother to speak up and be heard, even if it’s in a disrespectful way. but they do.

anyways idk rescue bots brainrot and the concept of a fundamentally good society have been eating away at me.