#this has been a gateway drug for me to SO MUCH

[bunny584]

OBSESSED: GETO (PT. II)

A/N: I…guys this one is…dirty. For so many reasons. I don’t. I can’t look myself in the eye. Suguru made me do it 😅

C/W: Voyeurism, Mature themes, 18+ (Part I here)

Music inspo: This is SO Chase Atlantic coded

Acceptance.

They say the first step to recovery from addiction is acceptance.

Fine, then.

Suguru Geto’s addiction to you is absolute. And he has no interest in recovery.

He’s accepted it. You own him.

Granted, he didn’t realize just how tight your leash is. Not until last night.

Suguru is a logical, reasonable, creature of habit. He doesn’t need much. Really, he doesn’t.

But fucking you to sleep nightly is non-negotiable.

Or rather, fucking his hand. While watching you watch TV. And swirl a glass of Pinot noir in your gorgeous mouth. With your graceful fingers mindlessly swimming in a bowl of popcorn.

Extra butter. With tons and TONS of salt!

The first time you ordered your side snack at the movie theatre, Suguru almost keeled over.

But then he made the glorious mistake of flickering over to you, mid movie. Just as your index finger slid between those pillow soft lips. Pulling remnants of salt and butter away, leaving a trail of lip gloss behind.

He could’ve sucked it off your finger right there and then.

The way you pistoned in and out of your mouth. Doe-eyed and trained on the screen. Not a thought in your head. It was his gateway drug.

The butterfly effect.

A moment in time that rerouted fate.

His excruciatingly beautiful, platonic best friend, now a visceral need.

And just like any addiction. There were stages.

Denial: He doesn’t see you that way. No, of course not. His mind just got caught in a horny spiral. He’ll snap out of it. Things will go back to normal.

Anger: How could you do this to him? You know how disorienting you are. That smile. Always looking up at him with puppy eyes and parted lips. You’re a cocktease. Begging. Pleading. Needing him to debase you to nothing. Is that it? You want him to ruin you, don’t you? And he could. Fuck you into next week. Until you’re screaming and crying. He’d smear those tears all over his cock and fuck them back into your pouty mouth. It’s what you deserve.

Shame: It’s perverse. You call to vent about your day. He rubs himself raw while you talk. You kiss his cheek. His dick leaks. How could he do this to someone who trusts him like you do?

It was a vicious, muddled cycle. He could barely function around you.

Rushed greetings. Kurt words. Clipped responses. Avoidance.

He had to protect you from his depraved thoughts. Shield you from sordid actions taken in the dark — as if they would spontaneously materialize in the light to harm you.

And they did. But in the opposite way Suguru intended.

“Hey, HEY! Suguru, what the hell is up with you?”

You squeezed his wrist with all your might. It felt like nothing. But the weight in your tone hit him like a freight train.

“What are you talking about?”

“You’ve been distant."

“I’ve been right here.”

“You’ve been distant, Suguru.”

Quartz showers streamed down your beautiful face and his cock quivered. Drooling along his thigh. So. Fucking. Pretty when you cry.

Did you know?

How irresistible you looked?

Glassy eyes. Trembling lips. Vulnerable. Soft enough to hunt.

Did you know?

How he clawed his palm bloody to keep from gripping your neck. Shoving you to your knees. And giving you a reason to whine his name like that again.

“Why won’t you just talk to me?”

“I have to go—“

“I don’t care!”

“Wha—“

“I don’t care!! I don’t care what it is okay? I just…I miss..I miss my best friend.”

You elevated off your heels. No where near eye level, but enough to cradle his face in your dainty hands.

And God dammit. He might as well have been wearing a dog tag with your name on it.

If lost, return to Owner.

Between your misty eyes. Swollen lips. Face like a canvas to paint with his cum. He bit back a pathetic groan. And choked out an apology.

Most importantly, he made a promise to never hollow out your friendship like that again.

So, instead he fills it. With ropes of his arousal. And fuck, it’s rhapsody.

The stages. The anger, disbelief, shame…it was worth it. Because this ecstasy? It’s sublime.

Constant ascension. Never once reaching cruising altitude.

…which made the fall agonizing.

Last night, in a sick, twisted turn of fate - his camera feed cut off.

One minute Suguru is pumping into his abused rubber cocksleeve. Sliding his eyes up and down your hips until he was dizzy in the head. Pre cum squelching out of the little space between his cock and the ring of his 5th battered toy. Unintelligible praises leaking out of him, cementing his devotion. And just as the curtains began to fall on his vision. Balls heavy and hot with his seed—

Then he saw nothing.

Suguru couldn’t recognize the man in his room last night. Fingers aching. Mind racing. Dick red, angry, pulsating for its one and only vice.

Alarm bells rang between his ears. Crash landing into an abyss. Mayday.

Mayday.

In that moment. He knew he needed more. More skin. More angles. More you.

And so, he’s standing outside your Pilates studio @ 7:28 PM. Two minutes until you’re done.

A Dragonfruit smoothie rests in his hand.

And a new camera system rests in his back pocket.

———

“Ugh, I needed that.”

You sling a cold eucalyptus towel around your neck.

“And I need him.” The comment emanates from one of your girlfriends. Both of you rounding the corner out of the studio.

Suguru.

You don’t have to look out the glass windows to know exactly who she is referring to.

“I mean, seriously. How can you not climb him like a—“

“Stop it!!” Your protest made less believable because of your sheepish giggles.

“We’re just friends.” You mutter. Pulling your gym bag out of the front lockers.

Yeah, who are you trying to convince? Her? Or yourself?

Your eyes flicker to your platonic, gorgeous best friend. Raven mane in a glossy, high ponytail. Freely cascading down his back. Curly wisps framing his razor sharp angles.

He stands tall. So Muscular. Quietly masculine. Despite how dreamy his hair is.

“Omg! Your hair!! Whats your routine?” - every woman who meets him, ever.

“Genetics.”

Suguru responds the same way every time with a dimpled smile. The other party is always immediately caught in his web.

His eyes. They lure you in like quicksand. Onyx. Swarming with grey and violet specks. Stormy. Perpetually faraway.

He’s the perfect gentleman. But always a little bit above it all. Just out of reach.

It’s mesmerizing.

You can’t blame the women for trying any and everything for a tiny piece.

Suguru catches your gaze. Silky smile pulls across his lips. He beckons you with one swirl of the liquid gold in his hands.

“What are you doing here, pretty boy?”

“Happy to see you too.” He counters with a low chuckle.

You coax the sweet treat away from him. It’s precisely what you need.

Suguru always has his pulse on you. Somehow he knows where to be and when. Every time.

“Mmm” your eyes flutter shut. Savoring the sickly sweet, cold mush on your tongue.

“Exactly what you wanted?”

“Exactly. Have I told you I love you lately?”

“Not nearly enough.” His baritone hovers over you. Traveling down your spine at light speed.

Has he always sounded this sultry?

You lazily pull yourself out of the sugar-induced dopamine hit.

Suguru moves into you like a storm cloud. Accentuating the comical difference in stature. The world around you slowly dissipates.

Lost in the desert mirage of his gaze. Everything feels conscious.

Your shallow breathing. The thrum of blood surging through your vessels. Heart rattling against its bony cage.

Time stops.

Then it happens all at once.

Before you know what is happening, your best friend’s well built arm is around your waist. His large, veiny hand palming the nape of your neck.

His lips. His plump rosy lips are on yours. Sweet and warm. Pulling, pushing, melding with you into play dough.

He’s delicious.

More delectable than you knew possible.

“Mmmgh” You moan and Suguru takes the space to push his tongue into your mouth. He’s blinding. Expertly tickling the ridges and corners of your mouth. As if to show off just how skilled he is with his tongue.

“S-Suguru..”

He pulls away far before you’re ready. Shocking you out of your lusty daze. For a moment he just rests his moist lips on yours. Exchanging breaths between each other. As if only you two are the source of oxygen around you.

“Wha…what was..”

“There’s a guy burning a crater into your back.” He finally responds. Gruff. Strained. You’ve never seen him without a tight leash around his self-command.

“I didn’t want him thinking he has a chance.”

And just like that, the familiar tame control lines his velvet baritone.

Suguru places a chaste kiss on your cheek before starting to walk in the direction of your apartment. As if the world didn’t just tilt on its axis.

You’re able to maintain a fairly normal conversation with your best friend the entire walk back to your apartment. You both laugh and joke as if he didn’t just fuck your mouth with his tongue. And as if you didn’t feel drunk off of it.

You’re just friends.

…right?

You toss your keys somewhere to your left. In the periphery you see Suguru smile and shake his head. Well aware of your messy tendencies. He leans down to take your keys and place them on the door hook.

The devil on your shoulder is deafening.

Test it.

Test him.

Your hand moves before your mind.

Your fingers hook under your sports bra. Pulling it over your head in one smooth motion. Before your mounds bounce in full view, your arm cups them against your chest.

You turn to Suguru, now topless.

“Gonna hop in the shower for a little. Are you staying for dinner?” Willing your voice to be steady and light. A casual question amidst the mayhem in your mind.

And, as expected, Suguru is the perfect gentleman.

His olive tone is even. Hands slotting into his athletic pants. Faint smile tracing on his lips, dimple apparent in his left cheek.

His eyes don’t falter below your neckline. Not even for a moment.

“Not tonight, pretty. There’s a show I want to catch. Rain check?”

Of course, you’re just friends.

Best friends.

You flash him a genuine smile. Swallowing the nagging flecks of dissappointnent beginning to weave itself within you.

“Rain check!”

And maybe 10 or so minutes after soaking in your steamy shower. Trying to wash the remnants of his kiss out of your memory, you hear your door slamming shut.

You make a mental note to ask about what show he was referring to.

———

Whiskey glides hot and cold down Suguru’s throat.

Back flushed against his desk chair.

Patiently awaiting his 10:00 PM viewing.

His dick is a steel rod. Blushing and moist. Draped in a pair of your used panties. He swiped them on his way out of your apartment.

Suguru drags his palm lazily up and down his shaft. Soaking your lingerie in beads of pre cum. It’s like he’s feeling you rubbing your plush cunt up and down his rod.

Fog is settling opaque in his mind. While he pets the flame stirring between his legs.

You haven’t even come into frame yet. But Suguru admires the pristine view he has of your room. Porcelain duvet messily strewn about. Half open night stand. Magenta vibrator propped against the corner of your drawer.

How often do you touch yourself?

What do you think about?

How pretty do you sound? When you milk pleasure from your dewy core?

“Fuck,” Suguru hisses.

He brings the whiskey glass back to his parted lips. The thought of seeing you work yourself to a peak drove his hand up and down his cock too fast. If he’s not careful he’ll cum before he’s ready.

No.

Not tonight.

Tonight he wants to savor his relapse.

24 hours sober of you was unbearable. He deserves this indulgence.

Suguru tilts his chin up. Damp hair feathering his shoulders and back feels refreshingly cool against the lava circulating beneath his skin.

“You like teasing me don’t you?” He murmurs, slowly pumping his cock through his strained grip.

The way you pulled off your sports bra. Well before you reached your bathroom door. Pretty bedroom eyes raking his face. Testing him. You knew he would go home and feverishly fuck his fist for you. Didn’t you?

A siren’s melody pulls his hazy, dazed attention back to screen.

“There she is.”

Suguru leans closer to his screens. Giving himself kudos for choosing a camera system with audiovisual integration this time around.

You step in full view of his camera and his body stills. Completely statuesque. Mouth ajar. His cock drool dribbling down his stiff hand is the only source of movement in the room.

“Fuck…fucking hell.”

There you stood. Thong as richly colored as the wine in your glass. Accentuating the dramatic dip and swell of your pretty waist and hips. The wavy lines from your slender shoulders to your full tits are enough to make him seasick. Your nipples are so hard. Puffier than he imagined.

You are immaculate.

A divine being. Heaven’s incarnate.

And even if you weren’t. Even if you were the devil. He’d follow you to the depth of hell.

A thick surge of pre cum flicking back against his lower abs pulls him briefly out of his trance. Suguru didn’t realize how hard he was strangling his length. Which is violently jerking in haphazard directions.

Begging for its real owner.

Suguru drags in a deep breath. Reluctantly unraveling his needy hand away from his manhood. Another sip of icy brown liquor.

Savor this.

As if your souls are tied, you take a sip of red wine before settling in your bed. Back against your head board. Feet planted on your plush duvet. You let your knees fall to the side and Suguru nearly drools on himself.

A blooming rose.

Presenting your swollen, misty petals to him for worship. His eyes drop to your core. A thin line of fabric laid so perfectly between your folds.

Suguru has to remind himself that you aren’t in front of him.

And he can’t just dive into your dewy cunt. And nuzzle against your bud. And lap up the honey in between your folds.

You rest your head against the wall. Exposing the delicate lines of your neck. His left hand magnets back to his cock. His right hits the record function on the screen.

You are too special not to capture.

But, even if he couldn’t record you on this system, every moment right now is etched into his mind for an eternity.

Especially the way your dainty fingers travel down your chest, along your torso, beneath the hem of your panties and settle over your clit.

“That’s it, princess.” Suguru chants beneath his clipped breaths. Dragging your soaked underwear along his messy shaft.

He matches his pace to your tiny circles. Small, gorgeous pants tumble out of you.

Your other hand palms at your tits. Pinching and pulling at your pert nipples. Your hips buck at the sweet pleasure and pain.

“Good girl”

His arousal continues to collect at his base, trickling to his inner thighs. The sound of his hilt slamming into his hand fill the room.

“God. S..Suguru…”

His name thunders between his ears.

His name wrapped in that melodic, lusty falsetto of yours.

Suguru’s brain can barely register the way your tits bounce in rhythm with your hands. Pistoning your fingers in and out of your sweet cunt. Ascending to euphoria. He can barely register the way your lips are swollen and abused from your teeth. Or the light sheen of sweat along your collarbones.

“Fuck, Suguru please..” you moan. Both hands now working your flower.

Suguru is slack jawed. Completely short circuited. He cannot move.

Unblinking, he studies you. Hands at his side. Cock spearing high in the air, leaking.

His mind is flooded with the thin, featherlight moans and whines. Sticky arousal leaks from your needy opening around your fingers. Coating your inner thighs. How you twist and groan away from your own pleasure - so clearly overstimulated but not stopping your fingers, anyway.

“Say my name, pretty girl. Say my name.” Suguru rasps out. Sharp pain lightening through him from the dryness in his throat.

And you do. You moan his name when you reach nirvana. Heaving and whining and squirming in your mess. You called for him.

“God, I’m disgusting.”

You laugh through the remnants of your high and bury yourself under the duvet. Lazily tapping the bedside lamp. Bringing Suguru’s private viewing to an end.

And his smile is vulturous.

Suguru’s hand runs the length of his insatiable cock. Slow, lazy strokes. Haphazard twitches pushing out globs of cum. Begging for an encore.

You think you’re disgusting?

Ohhh, sweet girl.

You don’t know the half of it.

[screwitbaby]

cybergirl

hamzahthefantastic x reader (oneshot)

summary: hamzah’s a horny freak and you’re the lucky camgirl who gets to entertain him.

contains: smut with plot, essentially

wc: 2.1k-ish

~

It's that time of the night where Hamzah has finally completed all his daily tasks and he feels a familiar twitch in his pants. As an adolescent he never understood what people meant by "thinking with your dick," but that was before he had access to myriads of internet porn at the press of a button.

It was a fateful day when he masturbated for the first time. What was once just a pee stick attached to his body suddenly became so much more after stumbling upon his dad's porn magazine collection in the garage. That year was full of mysterious viruses on the family computer that seemed to appear from thin air and lots of trips to his friend's houses to share his findings.

Of course, there was the eventual graduation from magazines to videos to now, God's greatest act since turning water to wine: OnlyFans.

This time, he did not simply stumble upon such a vice. Instead, he was introduced to it through a time of desperation. Covid was at its peak and quarantine was doing a number on his mental state. Or, perhaps that's just what he tells himself to excuse what he did next.

He went to one of the many models he followed on Instagram and clicked the link in their bio.

It was all too enticing, too easy. A simple hop, skip, and entering of credit card information later and he was in—subscribed. This was the first taste of a delicious new drug he would no longer be able to live without. From then on, an addictive part of his personality would take over and he'd constantly want more, more, more.

No one knew about his dirty little secrets in the taboo corner of the internet where he could explore his greatest fantasies. He wasn't a virgin anymore, but a sexual deviant with a very bad spending habit. He'd learn more about himself in this time than any amount of puberty and social interaction could have ever made clear to him in his lifetime.

And that all brings him to the current time, 11:03 p.m. on a Wednesday night, alone as per usual. The saddest part was, the porn made him feel a little bit less lonely in the onset of isolation he was experiencing since his detachment to the world. The throbbing in his pants held a dull ache as he disrobed and laid in bed in only his boxers. He pried his laptop open and typed in his favorite web address, the gateway to his favorite girl in the whole world.

You were the perfect woman in Hamzah's eyes. You'd do anything for the right amount of pay, somehow keeping the mystique surrounding you prevalent and consistently having him crawling back for more. You had fuck me eyes and blowjob lips. And last, but certainly not least, the most mouth-watering pair of tits.

Though Hamzah thoroughly enjoyed these physical aspects of you, he also felt a deeper connection with you. There was something about you that caught his attention, made him unable to focus on anyone else. He'd often find himself daydreaming about you; thinking of your grocery list while at the supermarket and unholy things you could do to him when passing the neighborhood church on walks. He was enamored by your whole being.

He opened up Zoom and went to your usual meeting room, waiting for you whilst nearly bursting through the cloth of his boxers. You were always a little late, and even though he'd been paying for these sessions for a couple months now, he couldn't bring himself to care. You could keep him waiting until the daylight and he was sure he'd still be sitting in front of the camera awaiting your entrance, having a part in his own torture as he refused to please himself until you got there.

When the notification finally sounded that you had joined, it was 13 minutes past your initial meeting time of 11:05.

"Hi, Hamzah," your sweet voice rang, "were you a good boy for me?"

"Yes." He quickly nodded, his eyes unable to separate from your cleavage.

You teasingly pouted and crossed your arms, pushing your breasts up in the process. "You're never naughty... always trying to please me, hm?"

"Always," he breathed out.

"But I want to please you, too," you whispered.

You moved your laptop camera to expose the length of your body, fully bedecked in lilac-colored lingerie atop silky bedsheets. Hamzah's hand instantly reached to grab himself with a whine.

"So eager," you giggled. Your fingernails trailed down your sternum, tracing the bow on the center of your bra. "I love how you react to me."

"I'm already so hard," he said through a grunt.

"Show me," you ordered.

Hamzah hastily pulled his boxers off, freeing his erection from its confines. He spat into his palm and gripped his shaft, lips parted.

"I wish that was my hand," you sighed, eyeing the imagery unfolding in front of you. "Don't you?"

"I do," he replied with no regard as to how desperate he sounded. It just fueled the fire in his belly. "I nearly fucked a hole in my hand yesterday thinking about you."

"What were you thinking of?" you questioned, tossing your hair over your shoulder as you unclasped your bra and slid the straps down your arms. Hamzah watched in amazement, the friction of his hand making him speechless. "Was I blowing you? Riding you?"

"In the shower," he panted. "Your face pressed against the tiles—shit—while I fucked you from behind."

You hummed, pinching your nipples for a moment before your hand trailed further down, "all wet for you?"

"Soaked," he said, tossing his head back on the wall but keeping his eyes on you. "S-screaming my name."

"Hamzah," you teased, "such a dirty mouth on you."

"Say my name again," he pleaded.

"Hamzah," you melodically repeated. "You're not gonna last long if you don't slow down."

He whined, knowing you were right. "So good...don't wanna stop."

"I know, baby," you murmured, running your fingertips over your wetness, "but don't you want to take your time with me?"

He watched as you slipped one finger in, then another, shielded by the fabric of your panties. He grunted in frustration, fisting his dick harder.

"Let me see you, please," he begged like the sight pained him, running his other hand through his disorderly curls.

You obliged, standing from the bed and turning so your ass was in the camera frame. You slowly pulled the laced bands down your hips, bending over as they fell down your legs and pooled at your ankles. Hamzah's breaths quickened as you kicked them to the ground, fully exposed to the camera.

"Fuck," he cursed, desperately reaching for his laptop to pull it closer and get a better view of you. "You're so..."

You crawled back onto the bed and parted your legs so you were out in the open for him, pussy glistening with your desire. Your fingers retraced their destined path as you reached down and spread your folds. He watched with hungry eyes.

"I'd kill to get a taste of you." He panted between his words.

You giggled and slipped teasing fingers in and out, never all the way. "Tell me how you want it, angel."

He moaned louder at the pet name. "All fours, p-please."

You flipped onto your knees, arching your back so your chest was touching the bed and you were looking over your shoulder at him.

"Touch yourself," he demanded.

Your cheek pressed on the mattress as you sunk your fingers deep within yourself, adding a third to fill you to the brim. Your mouth fell agape. The room filled with slapping sounds as you and Hamzah pumped your hands simultaneously.

"My god," he puffed out, his bare chest reddening with the fervor of his movements. "Just like that."

"So tight," you whimpered, feeling yourself clench around your fingers. "I'm dripping for you."

"I can almost f-feel you," he groaned as he pictured himself inside of you. "Fuck, the things I'd do to you..."

"Yeah?" You egged him on, getting restless. "Would you pound into me? Stretching me more than my fingers ever could?"

"Until you're bruised and sore," he promised breathlessly.

His hips began to lift from the bed as he fucked into his left hand, steadying himself on his right forearm. It was impossible for him to lift his jaw closed with the way he felt, his eyes nearly rolling back into the back of his head. Your free hand groped your breasts as your skin burned from his words.

"Are you close, Hamzah?" you asked, familiar with his signs. "Don't you dare cum yet, baby."

"I'm trying," he said through gritted teeth. "I never last long when you're l-like that."

"I love it," you gasped as shocks of electricity coursed through your veins. "Such a mess, all because of me."

"'Cause of you," he echoed, incapable of forming his own thoughts from the pleasure.

The both of your moans filled the air, pushing each other closer to completion. Hamzah's quivering voice, ever so expressive, shouted expletives as he slowly came undone. The pain in your neck went ignored as you took in the pathetic state of him, cumming into his fist and all over himself. His eyes were screwed up as his hips jolted in unison with every spurt of white that left his glossy tip.

Your climax took place soon after he came back down from the clouds, allowing him to watch as your thighs were saturated with your own arousal. He tirelessly pumped his shaft, wanting to ride out every last bit of satisfaction he could from you calling out his name. When your eyes opened and saw him, you shook your hips side to side, letting him ogle you a little longer.

You crashed to the bed and brought the laptop up so you could observe the way he cleaned himself up with a tissue from his nightstand. Your chests rose up and down, trying to oxygenate your lungs after being so breathless for so long. His happy trail was dampened, lying flat against his skin as he swiped away the last bits of moisture from his stomach.

Silently, you rose with trembling legs to grab the closest cloth to clean up your own mess. When you began wiping your inner thighs with your bunched up panties, Hamzah groaned. You bit your lip and bent over to shake your ass, your reddened pussy on display.

"Is it bad I wanted to lick my screen?" he exhaled as you sat back down, not bothering to put any clothes on.

"Stop," you giggled.

"Mail them to me."

"What?" You were still trying to catch your breath.

"Your...panties." The word sounded more obscene leaving his lips.

"I'll have to wash them first—"

"No." He shook his head, resting his hands on his sweaty torso. "Just send them."

"You're filthy," you gasped, grabbing the moisture-laden garment up from the carpet and holding it up. "What do you want them for?"

His cheeks suddenly flushed and you smirked, twirling the lace in your fingers. "You know."

A lazy smile spread across his face as he leaned his head to rest on his bicep, exhaustion beginning to hit him. It was a really fucked up ego boost—having him so obsessed with you—but up until then you’d never actually felt the rhythm of your heartbeat falter from his words. He didn’t know his words affected you that much, and even less did he know that he was the only client you actually managed to orgasm with.

“Five hundred.”

“Dollars?” Your brows shot up.

“No, pesos,” he joked, eyes half-lidded.

“Do you know the things I’ve done for that kinda money?”

“I don’t care.” He shrugged.

Behind a screen, he was different. Something like an alter ego would be unleashed, an audacious character he certainly didn’t behave like in public spaces. He didn’t have to worry about being found out because of his digital anonymity (as anonymous as you can be with your whole face and dick out). In the real world he was an introverted loner, but here, in the darkness of his room with only the LCD screen illuminating his figure, he was free to act as he pleased.

Besides, in the presence of you, he was basically a saint.

“Okay,” you finally said.

“Okay?”

“I’ll send them over.”

“Can’t wait.” There was a twinkle in his eyes from the acceptance of his offer.

“Try not to look so smug, angel.”

The call ended abruptly and as the light in front of him dimmed, he realized he was getting hard again in anticipation of receiving the parcel.

~

a/n: i’m realizing i can just post whatever i want on here so here’s this lil idea ive been hiding away for a while!! hope u enjoyed freaks <3

[livwritesstuff]

The arrival of fall means the arrival of soccer season for the Harrington family. Soccer, as Eddie has learned, is kind of a gateway drug to the world of sports, the first sport their naive, impressionable youths are indoctrinated with, and all three of Eddie and Steve’s daughters are playing soccer in their town’s youth league this fall, even five-year-old Hazel now (she hates it; it’s probably also the very last time she’ll play too), so Eddie usually spends at least half of his Saturday at a local field watching his daughters’ games.

Steve usually volunteers to coach their daughters’ teams, except there’s another soccer-related first this year – Steve decided to take a step back from coaching Moe’s team like he’d been doing since Moe was in kindergarten, which means that he's actually on the sidelines with Eddie.

At one point during one of Moe’s games, things gets held up for a few minutes while one of the team moms argues with the coach. It seems to be about Moe, given the look of indignation on Moe’s face.

“Did you see what happened?” Eddie asks like he tends to whenever anything happens in Moe's games because they move pretty damn fast and he doesn't have an eye for this stuff like Steve does.

Steve shakes his head, “It’s Moe. Anything could have happened.”

It’s a fair point, honestly, and the coach shuts the whole thing down pretty quick and the game continues. Steve and his ear for drama didn't, obviously, and pretty much the second Moe’s game is over, Steve asks her, “So what was Mrs. Roberts all upset about?”

“I dunno,” Moe shrugs as she hefts her enormous soccer bag higher on her shoulders, “Apparently I said the C-word and she wanted the coach to take me off the field.”

Eddie feels himself freeze, feels Steve do the same beside him because, sure, their kids curse up a goddamn storm (no idea where they got that from) but everyone has their limits and Eddie’s pretty sure that he and Steve have never used that word – certainly not around their daughters, but not really ever (Nancy doesn't like it and they're all a little afraid of her still).

“I didn’t even know the C-word was a bad word,” Moe finishes.

“Okay,” Steve says slowly, something in his tone suggesting he’d rather be asking their daughter anything else, “Well, what…word did you say?

Moe shrugs, “I just said crap.”

Steve visibly relaxes beside Eddie as he does the same. Even still, Eddie can’t help but feel kind of perplexed even by that because, frankly, both Steve and Eddie usually bypass the sanitized expletives and head straight for the bigguns. It’s kind of crazy she didn’t go all in with the F-bomb whenever she got wronged on the field.

“Since when was crap a bad word?” Moe continues.

“It’s not,” Steve waves her off, “But…yeah, don’t use that one around Mrs. Roberts ‘cause she’s weird about that kind of thing.”

“Well, you already said I can’t say shit, so what can I say?”

“Well, you’re ten, so you can say nothing and survive the game totally fine.”

“That’s censorship at its finest, Papa,” Moe rolls her eyes.

“Darling, please don’t cite Dad at me.”

[milehighmegs]

On the Subject of Fandoms: A Love Letter

So, I'm old. Well, oldER. I haven't entered the twilight of my years by any stretch, but once I entered that midlife wistful state of nostalgia, I knew that I had very likely reached the point at which it would be more past than future. And ya know, that's ok. I made peace with my mortality long ago. I don't fear death, I fear not living before I die.

So what's that got to do with fandoms? you may be asking. Fair enough. Here's what it's got to do with fandoms:

Before it was even a term, before I could do multiplication or write my name in cursive (I told you I'm old), I was part of a fandom and didn't even know it. My parents watched 'Star Trek: The Next Generation' when it was still on primetime; we even recorded the final episode on VHS and had it for years. (I told you, I'M OLD.) It was so incredibly formative for me that it's become part of my identity, part of my moral & ethical code, part of my personality. Is that ridiculous? Dramatic? Maybe even a bit of hubris? Perhaps. But it's true, nonetheless.

I've since joined other fandoms, of movie franchises (namely the MCU), TV shows (like Good Omens), and musicians (I'm a die-hard metalhead) over the course of my life, each of them creating/inhabiting a different part of what makes me ME. Though I've always remained the same basic person at my core (a decent one at least if not a good one, I hope), being a part of these fandoms has shaped the foundations of how I live my life, and how I've LIVED my life.

Being on the proverbial back nine of my earthly existence, looking back at what's come before, at how far I've come and all the things I've fucked up or gotten right, questioned, accepted, regretted, cherished... so much of that is filled with moments like, 'what would Captain Picard do? How would the Avengers handle this? Which Slipknot song would be most comforting right now?' With the explosion of semi-social media sites (like tumblr here, and its gateway drug, Pinterest), I've been able to dive even deeper into the fandom. The fic, the art, the theories & analyses... it turns my appreciation for all these things I love to 11. But it wouldn't be possible without the most critical element: the fans.

Because people have such a love for, and identify so strongly with the stories & characters of their respective fandoms, they go deep into hidden meanings, major themes, & what they imagine these stories would be like if they were able to direct the action. More than anything, what I love about fanfic/fanart is that while yes, we're creating what we want for the characters, it's more a reflection of what we want for ourselves, both in the same situation as the characters and in life in general. For example, I see SO MUCH art/fic of Crowley & Aziraphale being open & free in showing their love for each other. I see so many stories of them making up and living happily ever after. The art ranges from sweet & adorable to... ah... adult-themed, but the vast majority of the latter is passionate, tender, & clearly loving; rarely is it straight-up raunchy. Smutty? Totally. Raunchy? Not so much. And why? Because we know these two are IN LURVE, not just in lust. And we want what they (clearly) have, even if they can't admit it to one another. We, the fans, can live vicariously through these characters and these worlds, and there we can find what we're looking for.

I've had a rollercoaster of a life, emotionally speaking, especially in matters of romantic love, and much of that hasn't been pleasant. I've done so much soul-searching, shadow work, self-care and all that whathaveyou, but none of it- NONE of it- has come anywhere near to being as insightful as the fan-based art & analyses of the relationship between Crowley & Zira. I have spent the vast majority of the last week thinking about it, writing about it, going over & over how it applies to my life & experiences, and I gotta say... none of it would be possible without the remarkable Good Omens fandom. So seriously, thank you. THANK YOU. You've helped to make me a better person. You've helped to make me look back on my life, smile, and turn around... to look forward to what comes next.

Keep up the incredible work, creators. You never know whose life you could be saving.

[harmonysanreads]

could we get more of being alhaithams wife… he has me in a chokehold omg waxing remorse, waning candlelight and flickering candlelight were so good‼️

btw do u take emoji anons? id like to be 🎀 if u do!

Hell yes, I thought you'd never ask :) I took my time with this, hope you don't mind and welcome abroad dearest 🎀<3

Desire, Denial, Demise

yandere!al haitham x f!reader

cw(s): yandere, drugging (not to reader), lots of tension, allusions to stockholm syndrome

wc : 2.5k+

[ previously in this au ]

The curry is boiling.

The strange symphony of the bubbling broth, the heated haze veiling around the kitchen and the appetising aroma of spices open the gateway for you to temporarily lose yourself somewhere far, far away. You're thinking of everything and nothing at the same time. Your fingers, victimized to small cuts from occasional slip ups during chopping vegetables, are fiddling with a tiny vial, its exact contents are unknown even to you but its apparent enough that its less palatable than the steaming curry.

It would seem as if you'd been at this practice for some time now, sometimes taking off the clog of the vial to slightly dip it at the dish only to pull away before any of the substance actually fell only to clog it up again and resume stirring the curry instead. The curry itself is almost ready but you're still unable to reach a decision. You seem to be far more interested in the rhythm of the bubbles appearing and disappearing, a peculiar peace enveloping your heart, so much so that even the rising temperature around the stove fails to have your attention swayed.

What does break your trance is the pair of firm arms snaking around your waist and an embrace, so deceptively loving and domesticated, because, you're neither allowed inner peace nor to pass your attention to something that wasn't your husband.

Alhaitham has a talent for making almost anything appear normal to outsiders, by which you'd imply the oh-so loving gestures he initiates with the excuse of your marital bond. In truth, they're as one sided as his love for you and if this was even just a few months ago you would've resisted but not now, for you've learned. Learned how to tempt the monster with scraps of its desires, promising something greater and slowly gaining its trust, so that when eventually you shatter it to irreparable bits, the monster would feel ten times the hurt it'd inflicted upon you.

Or, that's what you've been scheming to do to your beloved husband and you're hoping the poison containing vial you not-so-subtly hide away from his gaze would just do the trick.

“What do you have there?”

You vaguely lean towards his abdomen (not like there's much space to considering how close he already holds you), eyes still fixated on the stove.

“Curry,”

“And?” he probes further, whether its intentional or not you can't deduce from his even tone.

Your eyes move towards the right, you sense him doing the same, “More curry,”

“And.. soup. I had intended to make biryani but you arrived so early, sorry.”

It's not like you're completely lying, you were hoping to have some more time alone. After all, having more varieties of dishes would've made it less suspicious when you refused to eat a single one. You don't even have to turn around to see some of Alhaitham's facial muscles churn in distaste against your cheek, you've seen it more times than you cared to count. Alhaitham doesn't like soup, or anything that hinders his peaceful reading time but there's a counter theory in your head, suspecting whether he'd noticed something amiss yet. Because if he did, he's doing a splendid job at pretending that he hasn't.

You're not so easily thrown off-the-edge anymore either, you learned how to act from the master himself. Though, you would be lying if you said this sudden low guarded approach wasn't irking you the slightest. You hadn't wrapped your arms around his shoulders nor pressed a chaste kiss on his cheek upon his return like you usually do to act like the loving housewife you aren't, you didn't greet him with the usual ‘welcome home’ that you know makes his heart melt and on top of that, you're fidgeting with your surroundings. You don't dare to think this routine you'd painstakingly followed the past months to lower his guard actually had this much affect, this is Alhaitham you're dealing with.

So you're only left with the hypothesis that he has taken notice and will jumpscare you with it any moment, as much as you hoped against it. Finally, after what felt like forever, you turn off the stove and face the Acting Grand Sage, he doesn't loosen his hold in the slightest.

“How about you freshen up while I serve the dinner? You look like you've got a headache— annoying scholars again?”

You push aside the urge to pinch his cheeks, opting to instead hold his face in your hands with as much delicacy as you can gather and you almost falter when he answers by leaning into your touch. No matter how many times you've done this, you can never take his reciprocations seriously. Or rather, you can't believe just how easy it gets him to do so with each passing day.

For a moment, you feel like a wicked villain. Alhaitham looks so at peace in your palms (literally), his innocence right now could convince anyone that he hadn't committed any of the atrocities he did to get you where you were at now. You hear the echo of a nagging thought, this really might've been the ideal married life so many dreamed of ; a husband that views you above everything else, a secure place to stay and stability, overall.

Alhaitham would often tell you how people would kill to be loved in the way he loves you, you'd never actually let his theories in your head but now, you found yourself hesitating. All this strenuously built trust would crumble like the sand palace Kaveh had planned to make in a drunken stupor should you get caught and in the off chance that you don't, this.. almost, almost perfect marriage life would too if you really poured out the poison from the vial.

“Alright,” Alhaitham presses one kiss to your palm and leaves. Leaves.

You wonder if Alhaitham was hiding more surprises for the night, for, he never lets you off easy. You watch his silhouette vanish within the inner-quarters of his house, you peak around the corner to see if he was hiding there or not and— nothing. As much as you despised acknowledging it, your husband was always an uncertain amount of steps ahead. You might be his weak-spot but even you haven't been an exception to his overwhelming scrutiny, because, a wise man knows to guard his weakness well.

So, for that man to just leave without gauging the cause of your peculiar behavior like he's always (or, now that you think about it ; when was the last time he'd tweaked with your mind? three months ago? four? five?) done sends your nerves ablaze. You take out the vial from where you'd tucked it in, almost dropping it because of your restless fingers. You're still facing the entrance of the kitchen, the vial is brought up to your eye-level. The translucent liquid lacks any indication of it actually being a poison, it came as the byproduct of your last escape attempt months ago ; exchanged with all your remaining mora from an equally shady merchant — you didn't care then, you knew you'd be caught so might as well take a weapon with you back, right? At present though, you found yourself slowly regretting that decision, unless you're to experiment with it personally, there's really no way for you to be certain.

You shake your head, nonsense. You aren't the one dying when you still have hope, you weren't the one who'd forced someone to be their spouse with methods that make you shudder upon recollection, you deserved freedom and he, deserved proper punishment for his crimes.

You take off the cog of the vial, glancing one last time towards the direction Alhaitham went. You still your hand from shaking and celestia, you can still feel Alhaitham's lingering kiss there.

Without even looking you pour the entire vial of the substance into one of the pots and then toss the vial out of the window. You grasp at the kitchen counter, heaving.

You did it.

-

The next time you face Alhaitham, he looks eerily pleasant. You do your duty of serving him the food, hesitating on putting the curry on his plate and you almost consider throwing it out with some half-assed excuse but gather your resolve again. You will see an end to this. Keeping your expression placid, you take a seat on the opposite end of the table and serve yourself something to avoid suspicion. It's as quiet as it normally is since neither you nor Alhaitham are that talkative while eating, you sometimes sneak a glance towards him to see if there's any change ; he seems to notice this.

“You're awfully interested in my face today, is something the matter?”

“Ah, I was just wondering if you're finding the food palatable.”

Your husband tilts his head, you never ask for his opinions regarding anything ; was today a special occasion by any chance? Alhaitham searches his memories, no, your anniversary passed last month and even then, your effort for that day wasn't anything remarkable.

“Anything made by you is good,”

Alhaitham may mistake your aversion of gaze as fluster because of his unexpectedly suave comment but in reality, his way-too-honest answer struck your conscience. You shook your head, counting the seconds rather impatiently, no appetite aiding you to finish your plate.

Why isn't the poison taking affect?

Momentarily, the merchant's twinkling eyes upon handing you the vial flashes in your mind and it inclines you to think that you may have been scammed. All the while, Alhaitham seems to have finished his plate, wiping his mouth with a handkerchief.

“[Y/N], be honest, is something bothering you?”

You nearly jump out of your seat at his voice and your husband looks at you with more concern but asks for no further clarification.

Yes, you almost utter out, “No,”

Your eyes dart around the dinner table where most dishes still lay untouched, Alhaitham seemed to have eaten very little. When your eyes settle on the bowl of soup, a dreading realization strikes.

Don't tell me.. I didn't poison the soup instead, did I..?

“Actually,” you cringe at the sudden high pitch of your voice but it does its job in halting Alhaitham from getting up and possibly making his way to you, his eyes press you to continue. It only occurs to you then, what are you supposed to tell him now? ‘I poisoned this soup that I know you clearly dislike because I hate you so please, gobble it up and end my misery?’

This isn't the time for jokes, wake up!

“Haitham, to be honest, I prepared that soup for you with your stress induced state in mind. But.. ” you wet your lips and choke out the rest, voice fading in a sad adagio, “Since you don't like soup, I guess I'll just have to throw it out.”

It takes everything in your will-power to not break the pathetic act and slap yourself. You don't dare look up and see your husband's expression, already mentally preparing him to drop the bomb and interrogate you on all your weird mannerisms tonight.

In no way will Alhaitham of all people buy that, I wouldn't believe that, not even a rat will believe that, whoa—

You expected exactly two outcomes after your sad excuse of convincing (brought fresh to you by past experiences) ; 1. He tells you to eat half of the soup first, probably with the surface level reason that he won't be able to finish all of it and when you inevitably refuse, the truth will be revealed and 2. No need for roundabout approaches, you wouldn't be surprised if Alhaitham knew your scheme since the start. But no amount of past experience could prepare you for when your conniving husband took the bowl of the soup that he repeatedly said he despised and gulped it down in one go, without an ounce of hesitation — all because you muttered you made it especially for him?

(Admittedly, you feel a little touched.)

You stop gaping like a fish and with a fake cough chastise him, “Dear me, no one was stealing that from you, you could've just taken your time — what if you burned your throat?”

Alhaitham chugs down a glass of water, he doesn't look the most content with that decision either but seeing you worry over him like this... he has no regrets.

“The faster, the better, no? I really would just like to go sleep now.”

Hmm, he wasn't entirely wrong about that. The faster the poison takes effect the better it is for you but, he doesn't need to know that part. It's dead silent again, none of you seem compelled to move, your focus is on Alhaitham solely ; in the first few seconds, he seemed fine but then he started to loosen the collar of his shirt, an obvious expression of discomfort painting his normal poker face. You lean forward in your chair, unable to tear your eyes away.

“On a second thought, you were right. Maybe I shouldn't have eaten so hastily. It feels...so...hot...?”

Alhaitham's voice fades to incoherent words, he brings a hand to the locks of his gray hair, laboured breaths filling the vacancy of the dining room.

And then, his head meets the wood of the table.

You push back your chair, unable to believe the sight before you. That was fast, way too fast, perhaps. You take ginger steps towards Alhaitham's chair, when you're beside the Scribe's unmoving body, the weight of the situation drops on you unmercifully.

Wait wait wait, t-then this means that... I.....I killed my husband...

You can feel your vision blurring, no no, you're supposed to be happy! Happy that his tyranny is finally over! Happy that he'll no longer be able to hurt you or any other being for that — happy that he's gone.

These are tears of happiness, right? Right?

You hands move to wipe them furiously, you don't believe it, there is no way he'll die that easily. You'd fantasized about this moment so many times ; when the colour from his disgustingly beautiful eyes fades, you'll be on your merry way from this hellish life, you'll be allowed to wander anywhere, befriend anyone — but now, such desired dreams have lost their colour, as well. With no regard to your escape plans, your hand reaches for his unmoving figure, hunched over the table ; your senses are closing in, you can see nothing but him, you can hear nothing but the ringing in your ears and you're not sure what happens afterwards.

One moment, you feel your skin barely graze his shirt and the next, something warm springs up, grabs your wrist and your back slams against the table, legs dangling over...

Huh?

There is Alhaitham, up and about, albeit he looks.. perturbed and delirious. Extremely delirious.

“Sly woman, what were you thinking?”

Heated skin, reddened face, hearts in the eyes—

These symptoms, oh no...

You try to shove him off and create as much distance as possible, the effect your puny struggling has is non-existent ; he only holds you more suffocatingly in his lap, closing in slowly slowly slowly—

That is the moment you accept ; you have been scammed, just not in the way you were speculating you've been.

[mezmer]

Here I will explain why my blog banner describes me as an anti sugar activist. I try to be as "scientific" as my brain and heart allow, but I value my experience over scientific studies even if they support my view, huge ridiculous autist sugar post incoming

Sugar is highly addictive for most people. The problem is way more dire than we act like it is. Added to foods you wouldn't even think to include sugar. The link between sugar and obesity, endocrine disruption, general inflammation and malaise, disease, diabetes, your teeth rotting out, and even cancer, is undeniable no matter what articles or studies you try to dig up. not many people want to admit how bad it is. People who enjoy sugar, who might say "you only live once! It's not like I'm shooting heroin" suffer weird problems and assume it's something else. Children set up for a lifetime of failure because their parents don't pay attention to their sugar intake at all. I have a very drastic example of this I won't go into much detail about, but a set of parents close to me are feeding their daughter extreme amounts of sugar. She has a learning disability and is a very intense child. I've hinted at the sugar link and everyone is in denial.

I have baby sat this child and gotten her to eat organic wheat bread PB and J with a no sugar added, all fruit jam.. happily told her parents who did not care at all. It was such a feat to me. Everyone knows a picky child. It's worse than you think. This is a gateway drug and I'm totally serious. I said I would not go into great detail... I too was raised on welch's fruit snacks, "pancake syrup", sprite, Kool aid, and worst of all I was allowed to put as much sugar that I wanted into my tea. My parents were wonderful, they just didn't think or know how bad it was to do this

I've struggled with a sugar addiction before and since getting clean from drugs and seen the effects of it firsthand. The most obvious to be seen from the outside that I can make people believe is my struggle with acne. We know bacteria feeds off of sugar. This is why people who drink sugary drinks are at risk for UTIs. If bacteria enters their bladder, sugar makes it grow. Well no amount of washing my face, bentonite clay masks, washing my pillow cases, wearing a bonnet, would make the acne go away. Recently I tried to only eat a certain pint of ice cream thinking less sugar would help. It didn't and I'm over two weeks off of all sugar that isn't naturally occuring in honey and fruit. Crazy how natural sugar does not feed the bacteria and hormonal disruption. I've been in this cycle more than once. Not only does the acne go away, my face appears radiant every time. Breakouts as soon as I relapse. Maybe you are thinking, this is a bunch of hogwash and I eat little cakes often without a problem. That's fine. I know addicts who have used meth for 30 years and you wouldnt wonder much about them. Smokers who lived to 80. Sugar doesn't do me any good at all.

Neither my mom, who was just put on a medication with awful side effects because she is developing diabetes. Her doctor (doctor she's had for decades who is a total piece of garbage and prescribes dangerous cocktails of conflicting medications !! That's a whole other post!!!! Put my grandma on pills which nearly killed her! Plus other people HAHAHA) saw her coming up with high blood pressure, blood sugar, and cholesterol without thinking to suggest a diet change first. My mom is overweight and likes to eat sweets. My mom told me, I can still eat sweets, I just have to eat less. I did tell her that didn't work for me. I quit because I don't want to end up sick this way. Diabetes runs in our family. The prescription is making my mom nauseous and dizzy. Insane to me right?

Why aren't the dangers of sugar recognized? Why am I the only advocate I know? I would shut the fuck up if the dangers were believed by more people. Is it Because Sugar Taste good? Not seen as a vice. We accept that corn syrup is not so good. Canola oil pretty bad. Dyes in food causing children to develop ADHD and autism, or whatever. Is there no risk in consuming sugar? Many health professionals don't want to admit it? I feel strongly. I feel sick when I eat sugar but I can't find myself able to stop unless I truly try. We are all convinced that it's just a danger to your teeth if you don't brush enough. MIL is a sugar addict who buys birthday cakes on clearance and clears the whole cake in a few days, a twice daily flosser and brusher, who has lost over half of her teeth to extractions, sees the link, and has no intention to quit.

Finally, I bake yummy dessert recipes excluding half the sugar while using honey, maple syrup, brown sugar for what is left (which is slightly better than white sugar from my understanding) and I have never made a baked good that is ruined by doing this. You can't even tell that I've excluded sugar and the foods have more flavor because sugar doesn't overpower the dish. They don't make your teeth hurt. You can eat more cookies because there is less sugar and they taste better. The texture is the same. Bakers will tell you this isn't true and you need to use the whole amount of sugar so the cookies and cakes arent ruined. Yes, you need torched sugar on creme brulee. Fine.

Do you ever find yourself scraping icing off of a cake? I have baked more than one birthday cake for loved ones excluding sugar and adding natural alternatives (NOT stevia or monkfruit which taste like shit and suck) and ive gotten nothing but compliments. My brown sugar maple cake with cream cheese icing using very little sugar was a hit for my partners birthday that everyone probably ate too much of. This isn't a brag, it's an idea for anyone who bakes to try and change your recipes. It hasn't failed for me. Ok SOrry

[bedfordxcx]

Her Last Confession

Prologue: A Declaration Of Secrecy

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Angelica Rossi (Partial Elle Greenaway x Angelica Rossi too)

Summary: Angelica Rossi has a past, it's hidden and she'd go to every length to keep it that way. For the past 10 years, only 3 people living in the USA have known her past, with only Angelica herself knowing the real truth to the FBI's only cold case in Italy. As she follows in her father’s footsteps, pursuing a career in the Behavioral Analysis Unit he co-founded, she discovers that her past continues to shape her life in ways she can't escape. Despite her efforts to separate herself from Angelina Giordano, the shadows of her history slowly engulf her very being. With each case she tackles, she edges closer to the truth she’s buried, risking everything she’s built to keep her secret safe.

Warnings: This chapter contains descriptions of physical abuse, drug use, and violent crime that may be distressing for some readers.

“In all secrets there is a kind of guilt, however beautiful or joyful they may be, or for what good end they may be set to serve. Secrecy means evasion, and evasion means a problem to the moral mind.” -Gilbert Parker 

“If I’m correct, this particular file hasn’t been transferred to our online database yet? Has it not?” 

“No Ma’am, it hasn’t...and that copy is the only one in existence, the other copy that was meant to be held in Imperia seemingly vanished along with the victim back in 94’” 

Section Chief Erin Strauss offered a curt nod before closing the file in front of her, leaning back in her chair slightly and letting her eyes scan the room before speaking up once again. 

“Who knows about this case?”  

Angelica inhaled sharply before responding:  

“Jason Gideon and David Rossi flew to Italy and worked the original case, some of the police force over in Imperia have limited knowledge of it, and then of course, me and you.” 

The two of them sat in an ice toned silence for a few seconds. Angelica pinching the skin of her own fingers as if she was trying to escape this dream like state, sat just a few metres away from the infamous BAU bullpen she’d spent so much time imagining herself in, they’d moved from the dingy basement room her father had spoken about in years prior, the team had grown since then, and had seemingly earnt far more respect in comparison to when the unit was founded explaining the move in locations. 

“Angelica, if you are to be a part of the BAU, we should very much like to keep that list the same... not only for your safety, but to ensure that you have completely separated yourself from these... events.” she said whilst gesturing to the file in front of her. This time, it was Angelica’s turn to offer a curt nod in return.  

Erin arose from her chair, Angelica following in pursuit, in all honesty she wasn’t moving on her own accord, it was pure nervous compulsion, she’d dedicated the last nine years of her life to getting here, her first year in America was spent adjusting to life but as soon as she’d truly learnt what her father did for work her heart had pushed her into the deep ends of her ambitions, the BAU had been calling her, taunting her and whilst she was only twenty-one ( and only three months shy of twenty-two) she’d proven herself to everyone around her. This job would be her gateway to becoming a profiler like her father, she didn’t exactly know what a ‘mental analyst’ was until her father had explained that it was basically a glorified therapist for survivors (she never liked to call them victims because she’d be admitting that she too was a victim), FBI agents who had escaped death, and could even be asked to observe interviews with criminals to try and pry more information out of them. So, she’d jumped at the offer because whilst she wanted to be a profiler more than anything, Angelica knew more than anyone that getting what you want is a waiting game.  

The two women had reached out and shook hands.  

“Welcome to the FBI, Angelica” but Angelica was too focused on the badge that was slid in front of her to process Erin’s words. 

A/N: So excited to share this one with you guys, its been on my mind for a while so sitting down to write it was really nerve wracking. P.S, Moodboard, Masterlist and the first look at Angelicas file is coming soooooon!!!

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

Hi Makenzie! I just wanted to say thank you, for running this blog and everything you've done on it. So many sex-ed topics are considered taboo and some of the questions you've answered have genuinely been eye opening for me. I've never had sex-ed classes in school, and while I'm lucky enough to have parents that made sure I understood the very basics, they aren't people I can ask certain questions too. Seeing the way you've answered questions, with so much respect and grace and honesty, means so much to me. Your blog has helped me let go of shame I didn't even know I was holding!

I also love Batman with all my heart. Batman has been one of my main interests for years now, I can never get enough. (Barbara Gordon is my favorite, especially while she was Oracle!) So I wanted to say thank you for the Batman posting too. That's how I started following you! Something something batman's a gateway drug something something, there's a joke there somewhere.

❤️

wow this rules and is very kind, thank you

[citrinekay]

hi this is very random, but i was wondering if you're up for sharing any recs (regarding kdramas)? i am an absolute blank canvas, you can influence me into any direction you desire!

Hi, anon! I'm ALWAYS happy to chat about kdramas, so not random at all 💖 I will preface this rec list by saying that, in my opinion, there are two types of kdrama-enjoyers: people like me who love crime/thriller/mystery dramas, and people who like the romance/comedy dramas that most people think of when they imagine kdramas. I will also say that I'm fairly dedicated to particular actors, and since I'm a busy person, I usually only watch dramas based on actors I know I like or recommendations from trusted friends. There's so many that I haven't watched that I'm sure a superb! With that being said, here are my top favorites:

Beyond Evil: My gateway drug to kdramas. This show grabbed a hold of me and wouldn't let go for almost 2 years. It's a mystery/thriller set in a smalltown where a serial killer has been on the loose for 20 years. Rookie detective (and nepotism hire by virtue of his father being highly ranked in the KNPA) Han Joowon arrives in town with strong conviction that he knows who the real killer is - Lee Dongsik, also a cop, who was accused of killing his sister 20 years ago but was released due to lack of evidence. A shining example of "opposites attract" and an evolving relationship arc that is almost unparalleled

The Worst of Evil: My gateway drug to Ji Changwook. A crime noir drama set in the 90s. In order to infiltrate a 3-way drug trade involving China, Japan, and Korea, rural cop Park Junmo goes undercover as the cousin of gangleader Jung Gicheul's deceased best friend. Crisis immediately strikes when it's revealed that Junmo's wife, Euijeong (also a cop), was the childhood sweetheart of Jung Gicheul. The married couple become further and further entangled in the gang's operations and with the enigmatic Gicheul as the undercover operation veers from one crisis to the next, until by the end, they are both asking themselves, "Can we go back to who we were before?"

D.P. (Deserter Pursuit): This drama follows An Junho through his enlistment in Korea's mandatory military service, his introduction to the D.P. unit, which tracks down military deserters, and his fight to expose the corruption, hazing, and abuse within the military. By his side is his partner, Han Hoyeol, a much more reluctant hero who is nevertheless dedicated to protecting Junho at all costs. Another great example of "opposites attract"! But be forewarned, as adorable as this pair is at the start, this series will force you to look at some very uncomfortable aspects of human nature and society and ask you some tough questions that might make you shed more than a few tears

If You Wish Upon Me: My second favorite drama from Ji Changwook and completely underrated, if you ask me. A lonely and suicidal ex-convict is sent to a hospice care facility in order to complete community service. The employees of the hospice operate a program that tries to fulfill the last wishes of their dying patients. To Gyeore's surprise, he finds a group of people who welcome him despite his flaws and slowly but surely make him a part of their little family. Another series that will definitely make you cry more than once! One of my favorite parts of this drama was the romance. Unlike a lot of kdramas, it depicts a man who appears to be tough and willing to fight on the surface but is actually traumatized, powerless, and trapped in an abusive relationship that the FL helps him to escape.

Bad and Crazy: How to describe this drama?? It's a quirky, wild ride that will have you asking "what the fuck?" while also keeping you glued to the screen wanting to know what happens next. Under most circumstances, my suspension of disbelief would have collapsed after the first episode but somehow this drama kept me engaged from start to finish. In simple terms, it's a story about corrupt cop Ryu Suyeol, who has a split personality, K, that is determined to kick his ass until he becomes the righteous hero he dreamed of growing up to be as a child.

Hotel Del Luna: A fantasy drama about a 1,000's year old immortal being, Jang Manwol, who runs a "hotel" for the dead. It's her responsibility to resolve the unfulfilled desires of those who have passed so that they can continue onto the afterlife in peace without becoming vengeful spirits. Young hotelier Koo Chansung is drafted against his will to serve as the hotel's mortal manager when the former manager passes away. While it's Manwol's job to resolve grudges for the dead, she herself holds the biggest grudge of all that's keeping her tied to the hotel indefinitely. Neither she nor Chansung know it at the beginning, but Chansung will be instrumental in helping her move on from her painful past. 10/10 will also make you cry (are you sensing a pattern here?)

Empress Ki: Don't let the whopping 51 episode count of this epic period drama deter you! I watched most of it within 2 weeks and could not pull myself away. It's loosely based on the true story of Ki Seungnyang, a palace slave from Koryo turned empress, who captures the heart of Emperor Toghon of the Yuan Dynasty, which has control over Koryo during this time period. Toghon as been a puppet king abused by the regent for most of his life until Nyang empowers him to reclaim his authority, and in turn, claims a great deal of influence for herself. I've seen a good deal of dissent from other viewers over Toghon and Nyang's relationship, but for me, it was the most compelling thing about the show. No matter how toxic, co-dependent, and fucked up things get between them, they just can't leave each other to the wolves.

Bloodhounds: Set during the COVID-19 pandemic, this drama criticizes the government's response to the economic crisis and the resulting explosion of debt capitalized on by the loansharking business in Korea. Boxers and former Marines Kim Gunwoo and Hong Woojin meet during a match and quickly become fast friends. When Gunwoo's mother is tricked into signing an exploitative contract by a loanshark in order to save her struggling cafe, the pair team up with Mr. Choi, a former loanshark himself who has turned his business around to helping victims of loansharking get out of debt. (The last 2 episodes of this show weren't up to par in my opinion, due to a last-minute rewrite for reasons you can look up online, but overall, I enjoyed the hell out of this drama and adored Gunwoo and Woojin from start to finish. Oh and good news, it's just been renewed for season 2!)

The Guest: A priest, a psychic, and a cop team up to stop a powerful demon called Park Il-do, which has visited tragedy on each of them in different ways. I'm wary of the over-used "linked in childhood" trope that comes up often in kdramas but this drama did it in such a believable and satisfying way. I loved the main trio and their dedication to protecting and helping each other and never letting any one of their group go into danger alone Not to mention that this drama will keep your adrenaline pumping from beginning to end! (You might not believe this but ........ this final episode of this drama made me sob like a baby)

Honorable Mentions include:

Strangers From Hell (Lee Dongwook and Im Siwan), Link: Eat, Love Kill (Yeo Jingoo and Moon Gayoung), Welcome to Samdalri (Ji Changwook and Shin Hyesun), The Devil Judge (Ji Sung and Jinyoung), Unicorn (Shin Hakyun), and The Sound of Magic (Ji Changwook and Choi Sungeun)

[sarahlizziewrites]

the coming out post

Happy pride, y'all! This is a post about my gender. You do not have to read it. (It is not a post about being bi, I did that like 13 years ago lol).

tl;dr: I'm genderfluid, my pronouns are she/he

this realisation has come from a lot of places, including but not limited to

the uncomfy hyperfemininity of the bridal industry

the fact that most of my POV protagonists in my writing are male-identified, and if I write in 1st person, the character is usually male

the instagram algorithm giving me targeted ads and content that seemed to be for transmasc/nb people - this is creepy, btw

the euphoria when I got called 'sir' by a stranger that one time when I was wearing a big coat back in 2019

playing a male character in D&D and someone misgendering the character as 'she', which wasn't so much a problem in itself, but it sent me into a bit of a spiral about just how much feminine energy I was giving out to have it override the character's gender!

the gender envy I get from trans women and drag queens who are doing femininity in a way that feels so joyful.

not feeling particularly disconnected from being female or using she/her (which was confusing for a while haha)

relating hard to the stories of friends who had come out as trans

@vacantgodling made me do it

but yeah, I feel like a guy sometimes. I feel like a girl most of the time, and I very rarely feel in between or no gender at all, hence the she/he but not they.

I'd love to talk you all about this, feel free to message me or comment on this post.

The only thing I don't really want to talk about is a thing I have encountered a few times (mostly from binary trans people), which is a suggestion (however well-meaning) that being fluid or nb is sort of a 'gateway drug' to becoming binary trans - while I acknowledge this is some peoples' experience, it hasn't been mine! And honestly fear of having to have that conversation over and over again is what has kept me from coming out for a while. It would be lowkey pretty invalidating to have that as a response to this coming out post, so if that is your experience, I'm really glad for you - this is mine.

I don't know if I will stick to 'genderfluid' as a label but it seems to fit pretty well and the flag is neato

thx for listening, love you

[kings-highway]

hello i just wanted to say- i still do not like ushijima. however. you and how you write him has influenced me so much that i started an ushiten oneshot today, and based on how it goes i MIGHT write more of them once i get a better grasp on their characters. this is your fault /pos

music to my ears oh darling friend of mine. Ushiten is addictive and I am glad to have been your gateway drug. Enjoy the stay while you're here.

(also PLEASE publish it when you finish. i want it so badly you don't understand. your writing is 💞 and i need it.)

[lovelyhan]

Hi, for the Seventeen member + song drabble...

How about Hoshi and "I knew you were trouble" by Taylor Swift?

⟣ i knew you were trouble ⟢ wc: 0.9k words warnings: alcohol, implied cheating minors do not interact!

from this ask game~

"don't look now, but kwon soonyoung's been staring at you all night."

you shoot your best friend, mai a pointed look before promptly downing whatever concoction was dumped into your solo cup. the unknown liquor leaves an aftertaste that leaves you cringing with disgust, but you'd do anything to appear nonchalant.

especially since kwon soonyoung's been staring at you all night.

to her right, mai's long-time boyfriend chan shakes his head. "babe, i know he's the hottest piece of ass at this frat party, but hell is going to freeze over first before she fucks soonyoung. isn't that right?"

your companions' expectant stares are heavy against your bare shoulders and the unwarranted attention makes you roll your eyes.

"exactly," you agree instead, despite the fact that the heat of soonyoung's gaze continues to burn into your skin. "besides, i heard he's got himself a new girlfriend a few days ago. why would he be staring at me?"

mai snorts. "'cause he's the biggest manwhore on campus? but anyway, chan's right. you've got better taste than that."

you're a little happy to know how much faith your friends have in you. of course you wouldn't fuck someone like soonyoung. of course you don't have questionable taste in men.

but little do they know, hell has long frozen over in your book.

the force of you being abruptly slammed against the door of one of the upstairs bathrooms has you moaning with delight as the man you thought you'd already flushed out of your system stakes his rightful claim on your lips. soonyoung pries your mouth open with his skillful tongue, an arm circled around your waist as his free hand hooks your thigh across his hips.

"been teasing me all fucking night, baby," he rasps into the heated kiss, pressing two fingers against your clothed core only to find you wet and wanting. "you know how much i love this dress on you."

you do know—that's exactly the reason why you wore it to the party when you found out he'll be in attendance as well. part of you wonders why you still try for someone who obviously wants nothing to do with you outside of a good fuck.

you just know mai will be heartbroken if she found out, but soonyoung is like a gateway drug and you're too addicted to let him go.

"t-thought you already have a new girl, soonie," you stutter as he continues massaging your throbbing cunt through the flimsy gusset of your underwear. "why're you picking one of your old toys back up, hm?"

soonyoung breathes out a mirthless laugh before dragging the flimsy fabric down your thighs—tossing it somewhere on the dirty bathroom floor. you let out a surprised squeak that's muffled by the loud music outside when he hoists you up by your thighs and lays you on top of the bathroom sink.

there's a dangerous look in his eyes when he rests his forehead against yours. soonyoung is so close, you can hardly breathe, but you know better than to mistake the vibrations of an edm track for the heartbeats he'll never have for you.

"'cause no other pussy can ever come close to yours, sweetheart," he sighs, teeth grazing the cut of your jaw in a way that has you shivering from his touch. "no one can make me feel the way you do."

then why don't you just choose me?

that small blip in your consciousness fades into the backdrop of lust and intoxication when soonyoung hauls his cock out of his jeans and buries himself in your awaiting heat.

there's no preamble in the way he fucks you in that lone second floor bathroom. your cunt grips him like it doesn't ever want to let him go—walls clenching deliciously around his hard length as he pounds you into the cold tiles.

"love fucking this pretty pussy so much," he groans hoarsely into your ear, his grip on your thighs tightening with each stroke. "you take me so well, baby. always so good, so pliant. you'll let me have this cunt whenever i want, right? let me use you anytime i need you?"

you should feel insulted by how casually the words tumble out of soonyoung's lips. but instead of offense, all that fills you is a sick sort of thrill that he unknowingly capitalizes on when the fat head of his cock grazes that sweet spot inside you. he hits it again and again until your toes are curling and eyes are rolling to the back of your skull.

"fuck! yes, yes—soonyoung, please," you whimper pathetically, digging your nails into the fabric of his shirt. "s-so close, you feel so good. more, more, more—"

"i know, sweetheart," he laughs and the sound bounces off the walls and sinks deep into your skin—making a home out of your body with the full intention of overstaying its welcome. "come on my cock and i'll give you what you want. it's been too long, baby, want to feel you milk me fucking dry."

you hate him. you hate how much he knows your body; how easy it is for him to make you fall apart time and time again. but no matter how horribly kwon soonyoung treats you, no matter how many girls he fools himself into thinking will be better than you—

you'll always welcome him with open arms when he comes crawling back to you.

[scarlet97531]

⭕️❗️CAN WE PLEASE TALK ABOUT HOW A BOOK SERIES FOR NINE YEAR OLDS LITERALLY STARTS WITH GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE AND DOES NOT GET BETTER??????

((General warning for graphic depictions of violence, lots of caps lock, and some swearing sprinkled in for fun for the rest of this post, also I don’t hate WoF, I love WoF, but I also think it’s batshit insane and needs to be addressed (in a pretty unserious way)))

The fucking prologue.

HELLO??? AM I CRAZY FOR THINKING THIS IS A BIT MUCH FOR THE PROLOGUE OF A CHILDREN’S BOOK???

This shot was the gateway drug for us istg. This fucking book series got is so hooked on fictional violence man 😭

We were drawing detailed dragon gore as fanart, looking at detailed gore that other people had drawn as fanart?

Seriously am I crazy????? This is the second main character killing her father to prove a point?????????

This is what we get for an explanation for where the first main character came from? His backstory is literally that his mom sold him for some cows??????????????????? WTF

Also just mudwing society in general is. It seems. Pretty weird. Like really weird.

“As the [human] shrieked again, she bent down and bit off its head.

“Blech,” she said, spitting it out again immediately. The head bounced across the grass as the body slowly toppled over, blood pouring out of it’s neck.”

UM?? OKAY!!

“She scored her talons along his wing, ripping open the scars”

“She shook Dune lightly, as if she were shaking the fluff off a dead pigeon. He clawed at her talons, his eyes bulging. “I mean, what use is a crippled dragon who cannot fly? I’m surprised you haven’t killed yourself already, SandWing. But I can take care of that for you.”

DAMN????

“No!” Sunny screamed, leaping at them.

But it was too late. With a chilling crack, Queen Scarlet snapped Dune’s neck and dropped his body on the stone floor.

“Dune!” Sunny howled. She squirmed past Scarlet and crouched beside him, shaking him with her front talons. His mangled wing flopped, his scales scraped against the rocks. His black eyes were empty. “Dune, wake up!””

HOLY SHIT???? WHY WAS THIS NECESSARY FOR A CHILDRENS BOOK

WHAT THE FUCK

AND THIS IS JUST SOME OF THE FIRST BOOK, DONT EVEN GET ME STARTED ON LEGENDS OF DARKSTALKER MAN THAT SHIT WAS CRAZY

THIS IS BEING SOLD FOR NINE YEAR OLDS

THIS COULD VERY WELL BE A CHILD’S FIRST INTRODUCTION TO DEATH

WHAT WAS TUI THINKING???????????

LIKE ACTUALLY WHAT????

Honestly it is so unsurprising we turned out the way we did when this is what we were reading as a kid 😭

Literally our primary caretaker is named after Scarlet. The same scarlet in those quotes earlier. Like this shit is so in our brain and has been since we were twelve.

This shit. Is. Crazy.

And then every time I try to point out flaws In the writing or the plot ppl tell me “oh it’s not that deep it’s just a children’s book it’s not a big deal” LIKE. FUCKING. HELL IT IS.

ABSOLUTELY NOT. NO FUCKING WAY.

I am completely convinced that if we had never read these books our gorey pseudo memories would not be HALF as detailed and disturbingly accurate as they are now. Like seriously we did so well in anatomy classes because of this. Maybe that’s mostly the autism but i we never would have been so interested in anatomy if we weren’t trying to figure out how to draw anatomically accurate dragon disembowelment because of these damn books 😭

Anyways all this said I still fucking love wings of fire and I’m thinking of bringing back that thing where I draw cute cartoony dragons dying horribly :3

If anyone has horror stories about growing up reading wings of fire I want to hear them

WAIT ONE LAST THING- I forgot to mention the icewing massacre, attempted genocide, and general dragon racism….. hmmmm a topic for another time perhaps

[meebles]

Last Line Challenge

Rules: in a new post, show the last line you wrote (or drew) and tag as many people as there are words (or however many you like).

Tagged by: @frostbitebakery @jedi-enthusiast @brokenphoenix99 @hawthornsword thank you all so much for the tags and I'm SO sorry that some of these are literally months late.

I think multiple tags qualifies me for a full snippet so here's some more of my codywan bodyswap!AU which preludes this post (thank you Frost especially for blessing me with the motivation for this <3)

“I admire you, clone, for the work of art that you are,” his captor says with a wide, toothy grin. Cody just stares up at him passively, resisting the urge to spit in the man’s face. “Many of my compatriots believe that cloning is the ultimate gateway to creating artificial force-sensitive life— but I say, why bother with creating a new form when I can just take one for myself.” Cody’s mind stutters, before it starts to spin, the man’s words summoning a horrible, ringing dissonance in his ears. Cody has been heavily and competently trained for various captive situations, he thought he’d been prepared for nearly anything the seppies could throw at him, but this— Surely this isn’t going to work— surely it’s impossible. But Cody works with a man who performs the impossible every day. Unfortunately, said man is still bound to his own table, eyes closed, drugged and disconnected from the Force. Cody breathes a deep and even breath. Refuses to let himself panic. Steadies himself to focus on his captor and his ramblings. “Ah, what I can discover, with the Force at my personal disposal. But I’m sure you’re wondering what use I have for you, clone. It would be foolish for me to test this first on my own mind. No, no, I think I’d much rather have you do the testing for me.”

No pressure tags to: @commander-sunshine @kimiheartblade @foreverchangingfandomsao3 @happybean17 @wolffegirlsunite @starrrgazingbunny @sunkissedclones @chiliger @razzbberry @petrifiedforests @insertmeaningfulusername @thebrainofoctavian @mxopifex or anyone who sees this and wants to do it!!

[chirp-a-chirp]

CoD Bloggers

Would you ever or have considerd leaving the fandom or quitting?

Hello!

Court of Darkness was the first otome game I downloaded! (3 years ago, when YouTube was promoting CoD and I decided what the heck I’ll give it a try, the ads were not NEARLY as cringe worthy as they are now…or so my spotty memory claims.) It was like…the gateway drug for other otome games I now play 😂 For that reason, this game and its fandom will always be special to me.

Real life has been stupid busy, so I haven’t been able to post as much lately, but I can’t imagine quitting the game or not posting until the game stops being supported by Voltage. The events are typically fun, the book 2s have been AWESOME, and seeing the fandom post theories from the Princes Path is a joy to read.

Plus…this game has my two favorite otome characters—Toa and Roy.

Reading Toa’s quips and one liners to Fenn and Guy is a treat. He’s the epitome of a man with so much hidden kindness…despite getting none from his family. I love how Fenn goads Toa yet is actually watching over him and making sure Toa is not working himself to death. And I have a visceral compulsion to hug Toa for all the unrealistic expectations foisted on him by the Qelsan court and family. I would knit that man so many gloves to keep his anxiety induced cold fingers warm. And have a never ending supply of hot chocolate to give him at all times.

And Roy. My favorite otome character. Why? No, I don’t have a predilection for pink or secretly yearn for Sherry but settle for her brother instead (but seriously Voltage…give more Sherry content). He’s such a layered character. Roy appears to be a one dimensional Prince Charming caricature BUT—he’s kind but ambitious; the most powerful magic user ever in his kingdom but doubting his worth; always encouraging others but hardest on himself; strait-laced yet passionate STUPID horny for MC. And for fanfic purposes Roy can be nearly anything: achingly sweet and sincere; the perfect professor; intentional and calculating; a cringy beta-male for Guy; or with a little push, he could have quite a villain arc. His range is awesome and it shows in his events.

[xxisxxisxxis]

Hey, y’all, I’m not dead. Thank you for your outpouring of concern and love and well wishes for the last two years. I have seen it from time to time but have never really known what to say or how to fully express my gratitude and appreciation for how loving and awesome you all are.

As many of you know, I have been virtually disappeared from the face of the earth (at least on this account) for 2 years now.

Between personal and professional shifts as well as quite a bit of familial crises occurring one after the other it seems, my motivation and “spark” that struck in me while first writing Gateway Drug and the years to follow writing it, has dwindled. I hate that I feel this way, I hate that I’ve put it off this long discussing it. In all honesty, the last several chapters of the story could have been better but I was already partially out of writing it while posting the most recent chapters of it back in 2022. I do plan to finish it in a way that will not call for another 100+ chapters (if I’m being honest I believe that’s partly to blame for my burn out from the story, and wanted to be thorough and ended up being a little too thorough), but also in a way that doesn’t seem rushed. I’m trying to figure out how to do so in order to officially close this chapter.

The internal issues of Motley as a whole right now as well as writing the same characters for 100+ chapters in what feels like a never ending story of my own making, has burnt me out, to put it bluntly. And I hate that it has, but that’s the truth.

If you are still interested in keeping up with me my new account is @shes4twnksinatrnchct but if not I totally understand.

I’m not active in this fandom anymore, and I’m so sorry if this is disappointing to some of you but I still want you guys to know how much I do appreciate your unwavering support and kindness for me and what I’ve written. Thank you so much from the bottom of my heart🖤