#Audible fuckery

[thebibliosphere]

(ID in alt)

A follower sent me this over on Instagram today to let me know the Hunger Pangs Fluff and Fangs edition was being used front and center for a marketing email they and a bunch of their friends got and how cool that was.

And while I agree that’s neat, good to know I’m hitting the algorithm enough to be included in marketing, I’m also just looking at that 99cent sign up offer knowing that it means my Audible rates are going to plummet for a bit because the way Audible works means I only get 20% of how much someone spent on accessing the book, so instead of my usual 20% of the $14.95 (because the credit isn’t worth the retail price that THEY set, just the subscription cost) I’ll be earning 20% of 99 cents which is… 19.8 cents before tax.

… yay 🫠

I really hate knowing how everything works lmao. I wish I could just enjoy knowing the audiobook is doing well enough to be used in promo. But alas.

Oh well.

[emeraldreverie]

woke up and checked the pond per usual and found a whole bunch of eggs, i'm assuming frog eggs

excited to see what's next!

[forsworned]

Random shower thought:

What if you and Johnny were so close that it actually perplexes the 141. Like when you two share clothes and food, platonically cuddle up under blankets, and use each other's chapsticks because it's all the same to you guys, but they kinda leave you be about it.

So it's almost not even that shocking when you walk into the shower after Johnny finishes up. He's clad in his towel, barely hanging off his hips, combing out his mohawk and your eyes go straight to his Manscape electric shaver.

Your eyes drift to his happy trail. "You mind if I helped you with manscaping?"

Johnny cocks a brow and looks at you through the mirror, amusement written all over his features down to that Cheshire-like smile. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah, you trust me?" You pick up the shaver and examine it, and then glance over at him.

"With my life."

"So?"

He unravels his towel and--

"Gol-ly! You are one hairy sonuvabitch!" You chuckle, taking a gander at his junk that seems to be lost in the 'bushel'. "I mean I knew you were hairy but dayum!"

"A'right! Ye said ye'd do it!!" He laughs, pulling up the washroom stool. You sit and get to work, both of you forgetting that the bathroom door is open. Of course, Simon is the first to pass by. He's not too surprised to hear the sound of an electric shaver while the washroom door is ajar in a male-dominated space. Hell, even you have your moments.

But he literally chokes on his ale when he sees what you two are up to.

"Bloody hell, you two." He grumbles, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Hey there, L.t." Johnny toasts his water bottle at him before taking a swig himself.

Your head is the only thing saving Simon's eyes from seeing Johnny's junk and he's thankful for that.

"What's the matter?" Price's voice pipes up as he comes in the front door with Kyle, both holding bags of groceries. Simon doesn't say a word, causing Kyle and Price to share a look.

You simply shrug and go back to what you were doing. Curiosity gets the best of them and they get gander at what activity you two are engaging in.

"Jesus Christ." Price groans, trekking to the kitchen wanting absolutely no part in your shenanigans.

"Havin' fun there, y/n?" Kyle laughs, stuffing a opened bag of chips into his mouth.

You turn to him with a smile, "you see it's quite a hairy situation."

Simon and Price audibly groan while the rest of you share a laugh. Add that to the list of fuckery that goes on under the 141 household

[miasmaghoul]

Limelight

Rating: E

Pairing: Aether/Dew

Summary: Aether and Dew see the ghovie (gone sexual). Contains handjobs, semi-public play, teasing, hand kink and quintessence fuckery.

(Also contains mentions of Rite Here Rite Now concert footage ONLY - no spoilers!)

"I feel ridiculous," Dew grumbles, tapping the toe of his boot against the dingy theater carpet. The lobby is bustling, filled with people of all ages in Ghost shirts, face paint and costumes. Dew tugs at his jacket, restless.

"Why?" Aether strokes the back of his hand with his thumb. "I thought you were excited to see the finished product?"

Dew mumbles something as they move up in line, eyeballing the concessions menu. Nearby, a pair of young girls giggle as they take a selfie with their creepy little plush Copias in front of the Rite Here Rite Now poster.

"Looks like you aren't the other one, either," Aether chuckles, elbowing Dew gently. The little ghoul rolls his eyes.

"Just...feels weird," Dew shrugs, grabbing a packet of Sour Patch Kids from the display stand. "Seeing it all...y'know." He gestures vaguely with their joined hands and Aether gives him a nod.

"You're gonna be on the big screen, baby boy," he says with a grin, looping an arm around his shoulders, and Dew frowns in a very stern sort of way.

"Get me these," he grumbles, tossing his candy onto the counter as they step up. "And a blue Icee. Large." Aether chuffs as he pulls out his wallet, rattling off things to the scrawny kid behind the till. "And nachos. With extra jalapeños."

Aether gives him a look.

"How much do you think the infirmary pays me, Dew?"

"Ugh, fine," he says with another exaggerated eye roll. "A medium Icee."

Aether pinches the tendon on the inside of his wrist and Dew kicks him in the shin. Aether shakes his head with a sigh, but he can't hide his smitten grin.

They gather up the pile of snacks - large Icee included - and make their way to the theater. It's a decent space, with reclining seats and extra chilly air conditioning. It's only about half full with five minutes til showtime, but Dew doesn't mind a smaller crowd. Their seats are great, in the back with empites on each side and in front, and Dew crosses his fingers that it stays that way. He sets down his things, shrugs off his jacket and lays it over it lap when he sits.

"How are you not cold?" Aether shivers, sitting on his hands. "It's frigid in here."

"You know I run hot," Dew shrugs, reclining his seat and crossing his ankles as he settles in. He grabs his box of nachos and scoops up a glob of impossibly yellow cheese and pickled jalapeño. "Plus, this way I can use it as a blanket if I want to."

Dew pops the chip into his mouth and demonstrates while he munches, crossing his legs and pulling the jacket up to cover his chest. He makes a tah-dah gesture and Aether smiles, leaning over to swipe a little smear of cheese from his bottom lip.

"Whatever works, I guess," he says, licking his thumb clean. He grimaces. "That tastes like spicy, salty plastic."

"I know, isn't it great?"

Dew uncovers himself and settles in again, stretching his legs and covering his lap. He takes a sip of his Icee and grabs the box again, tucking in while the theater lights start to dim. That same wiggly feeling he'd had in the lobby hits again and Dew sighs, fidgeting with the loose edge of a patch on his jacket.

"This really feels weird," he breathes, and Aether reaches over to hold his hand.

"Relax, Dew," he murmurs, lacing their fingers together. "You're gonna be just fine."

The last thing Dew sees before the lights go down is the glint of Aether's golden tooth, and he struggles to swallow the lump in his throat as the screen flickers to life.

The first time he appears, Aether audibly gasps, and Dew can't explain the way it males him feel. He shoves another chip in his mouth and decides not to think about it.

Twenty minutes and three bouts of brainfreeze later, though, his snacks are gone and Dew finds himself with no further distractions. Seeing himself - well, all of them really, but especially himself - up on that screen is doing things to his insides he can't quite explain. There's a certain level of queasiness in play, though who's to say how much of that is from watching himself play in stunning definition and how much is impending heartburn.

He squirms in his seat and tries very hard not to focus on the mistakes he catches. Tiny things he's sure no one else can see or hear - obviously, judging by the people dancing in their seats - but he sure can. He watches his fingers fly over the frets and wishes he had arched his back a little bit more in that shot. Stupid things he shouldn't give a shit about, and yet can't help but focus on. This is exactly what he was worried about when Aether suggested this outing.

Aether, on the other hand, seems to be struggling for other reasons entirely.

Dew can hear how heavy his breathing has gotten, can feel where his palm has gotten sweaty where their hands are joined. Not from the warmth of connection, but a clamminess that speaks of stress. Dew keeps looking at him from the corner of his eye, every time he hears a huff of breath or a sigh he's sure Aether thinks he's hiding, but the other ghoul's eyes remain locked on the screen. Dew's sure that if he were to lay his head on Aether's chest his heart would be racing. After one particularly harsh sigh Dew finally gives in. He focuses and reaches down the invisible link between their minds, nudging himself up against Aether's consciousness.

You okay, big guy?

Dew squeezes his hand and Aether visibly sags, shoulders slumping and legs falling apart in the reclined seat. Even in the dark, Dew can make out the bulge that movement reveals.

Oh, he slips into Aether's mind, not entirely on purpose, and the other ghoul lets out a quiet groan.

Look at you up there, Dew. Aether's reply carries rich warmth, the kind that soothes the nerves. The tone is worshipful, like Aether's borne witness to something spectacular. Fuck, just look at you.

The screen cuts to a close up of him as if on cue, fingers effortlessly gliding over his strings, and Dew's attention shifts to their joined hands. Aether's stroking his thumb over the most prominent vein on the back of his strumming hand, tracing it with effortless precision. A motion he's done a thousand times over, but one that feels so different with the starved way he's watching the screen.

He doesn't fight it when Aether pulls his hand into his lap, and his eyelids flutter when he feels just how hard Aether's gotten in his jeans. His own cock gives an interested twitch as he rubs at that sizable bulge, feeling it pulse against his palm. He doesn't say a word as he shrugs off Aether's grip, but he does roll his eyes when Aether whines into his head.

Two seconds, he says, scooting as close to Aether as he can in his seat. He pulls his jacket from his lap and lays it over Aether's instead, sneaking that clever hand back under to fondle him again. There, that's better.

Aether's mouth drops open when Dew gives him a squeeze, gripping his armrests so hard they creak. His eyes never leave the screen, though. Not even when Dew's elegant fingers start fiddling with his zipper. Not tugging it down, not yet, just dragging a nail over the teeth and loving the way it makes Aether flinch.

You're really worked up, aren't you?

He can't hide the twinge of surprise the thought carries, a curious inflection pushed into Aether's clearly distracted mind. He knows Aether loves to watch him play - always the one to tag along with him for midnight practice sessions and sunrise acoustic sets whenever sleep eludes him. And every time, no matter how many years pass, Dew would find Aether staring at his hands. Fixated on the control Dew prides himself on, focused on the way his skilled fingers danced over the neck and strummed out the most complex riffs with what looked like no effort at all. Aether would always rub his hands afterwards, massaging in just a hint of quintessence to help relieve hours of soreness.

Dew would reciprocate with a little rubbing of his own, of course. He's nothing if not a gentleman.

Still, though, seeing Aether fall apart so very rapidly over the sight of him on that screen comes as a surprise. He isn't one to show his cards like this, usually able to hold a straight face through damn near anything. Dew knows, he's seen it - Aether remains the only one unfazed by Aeon's puppy eyes, no matter how much the kid tries. That's proof enough of his stoicism.

And yet.

It's different. The words float into his mind, wobbly and unsure. Like Aether's really struggling to form coherent thoughts. It's...it's so much different like this.

They're the last words Aether manages before Dew feels the connection between their minds falter. He's pretty sure that's his own fault, given the way he's started massaging Aether through his ever tightening jeans, but it makes Dew chuckle under his breath. He refocuses on that link as he leans closer, until he can rest his head on Aether's bicep.

I'll take your word for it. Aether throbs against his palm and Dew groans low in his throat. Fuck, you're really hard aren't you?

"Shit," the other ghoul hisses, harsh, and a girl two rows down turns to glare at them. Aether shrinks a bit in his seat, and Dew is absolutely delighted.

None of that, he scolds, popping the button under his fingers. If you can't keep quiet, I'm not gonna be able to help you. Don't you want me to help you?

Dew tugs the zipper down and sees Aether bite his lip hard enough to draw blood when he reaches inside. It's damn near impossible to keep in his own pleasured groan when he finally gets a hand on Aether, finding him stone hard and hot to the touch. He pulls it out, hidden by the jacket, and Aether's head thuds against the back of his seat.

That's what I thought, Dew snickers, and that's all the warning Aether gets before that warm, bony hand starts to stroke.

Dew works him slow, with tight, twisting pulls that make Aether's thighs tremble in seconds. He nuzzles further into Aether's arm while the movie plays on, soaking in his rich cologne and the subtle scent of arousal. There's no urgency in the way he touches Aether, pausing every few downstrokes to get a hand on his balls too. To grope them, weigh them in his palm and really make Aether struggle to keep his eyes open. He manages, but Dew is certain that it's only because of the action on screen. He thumbs over the head and the other ghoul grunts out a curse in ghoulish, a guttural sound that sends a frission of something dark down Dew's spine.

He's too focused on the fine tremors shaking Aether's belly to notice the other ghoul's arm moving, and Dew jolts when a large hand lands heavy on the back of his neck, squeezing. His cock jumps where it sits already chubby and dribbling against his thigh, filling out that much more. He lets a wanton, breathy moan drift into Aether's mind and grins to himself when that hand gets even tighter.

His grin vanishes a second later, when Dew feels a familiar crackle against his skin. He gulps.

U-uh, Aeth -

A sudden rush of quintessence floods his system, pouring into his veins and curling around every last nerve ending. It's like an electric shock of pure pleasure, one that sets his skin on fire and makes his eyes cross, and as his dick pulses hard enough to hurt Dew has no hope of holding in his choked moan.

Thankfully Aether's arm catches most of it, but Dew can't even be bothered to see if anyone else noticed. His hand has gone still on Aether's throbbing cock, pre streaming over his fingers, and he sucks air through his teeth as an aftershock hits. He shudders, pulling back just enough to give his head a useless shake. Anything to clear some of the haze. He looks up at Aether again, and this time he finds the other ghoul staring right at him.

Finish what you started.

It slithers into his head, rough and rasping. Aether's thumb caresses the side of his neck, just shy of his thrumming pulse, and another spark of power shoots through him - one that makes his balls draw up. Dew groans deep in his chest and pushes his face into Aether's arm once more.

That's cheating, he complains, nothing but token protest. Aether's eyes shine even in the dark, sparkling lavender that holds such promise.

Do it and I promise I'll lick you out tonight, Aether rumbles, rocking up into that tight fist, and as the words sink into the folds of his brain Dew whimpers.

He really hopes Aether doesn't hear it.

He doesn't respond, and Aether's attention returns to the screen. His hand still sits on the back of Dew's neck though, holding firm, and Dew wastes no time in picking up where he left off. Aether's stomach visibly clenches when he pauses to rub at the frenulum, and the pulse of want that pounds through him when Aether's forced to bite his knuckles makes Dew's head spin.

He's long since lost track of the movie, occupied entirely with making sure Aether gets everything he needs out of his favorite pair of hands. He doesn't mind - he'll get the highlights later, once he can think with something besides his dick. For now, he dedicates himself to the task at (well, in, really) hand. It only takes a few more practiced twirls of the wrist for Aether's thighs to starts quivering again, and Dew knows he's about to get exactly what he wanted.

Aether curses again, a barely audible grunt, and as his own hands fill the screen once more Dew feels him go even harder.

That's it, he encourages, focusing on the head until Aether's legs go rigid. Let me have it, Aeth, give it all to me.

Aether suddenly turns, burying his face in Dew's hair to muffle his pained groan. Dew relishes every kick of his fat cock as it shoots all over the inside of his jacket, the last of the heavy spurts drooling down his shaft and coating Dew's fingers. The little ghoul works him through it, until he's left spent, sticky and breathless.

"Fuck, Dew," he whispers, barely audible over the pounding music.

Dew hums, pulling back his messy hand and licking it clean while Aether catches his breath. He's still very aware of the hand gripping his neck. It's something of a threat, truth be told - one more pulse of quintessence and he'll be toast. Aether may he able to cum quietly, but Dew? Dew can't keep his mouth shut when it comes to the magickal stuff and they both know it.

Later, if you want, he replies, sneaking his not entirely clean hand between his own legs. Aether's fixated on the screen again already, so he risks giving himself a grope. Rubs at his aching cock through too-tight denim just enough to take some of the edge off. He shivers as a blurt of pre squirts out onto his thigh, and has to stop himself from pushing any further.

He tucks his legs under him and leans into Aether's arm again. The hand on the back of his neck tightens, and for one horrifying moment Dew thinks Aether’s about to make him embarrass himself. Instead, though, Aether moves. Wraps that strong arm around his shoulders and holds him close, and in a lull between songs he leans down to plant a kiss on Dew's temple.

"Told you this would be fun," he murmurs, nosing at the place one of his horns should be. Dew can't help his pleased hum as he leans into it.

"Hate it when you're right," he mumbles, and Aether laughs louder than he probably should. The girl two rows down turns to shush him again and Aether offers her a sheepish wave of apology. They settle in together, leaning against one another while the movie plays on.

If they show you doing your Mummy Dust thing I'm gonna cum again, Aether sends down their link, and Dew doesn't have a name for the noise he makes.

[therhythmafterthesummer]

hard thought :

chris feeling his rut coming, his girl coming home with her male coworker’s scent on her, chris fucking her brains out and painting her cunt in his cum, breeding her to bits, fluffy aftercare.

HELP THIS IS GONNA BE ON MY MIND FOREVER!!

anon i hate you (i love you) because this ask.... THIS ASK.... i couldn't stop thinking about this ask. it literally made me black out and next thing i knew there were words in my google docs and.... yeah. again, might as well share it JKSDFHSKJDFH (this is barely proof-read, sorry, i was literally possessed writing this sdfhsjkdf)

Pairing: Werewolf!Chan x Human!F.Reader (one of the main pairings of my WereRoomies series, but you don’t really need to read any other instalments to understand/enjoy this one). | Word Count: ~2k | Warnings: smut · established relationship · chubby/curvy MC · Chris’ POV · mandatory Christopher is Intense™ warning · pet names · possessiveness · unprotected penetration (no barrier method, but BC is used) · praising · creampie · breeding kink · copious amounts of fluids (concerningly so. but this is some monster fuckery, what else would you expect?)

It wasn’t enough. Nowhere near enough.

“C–Chris, b–baby…”

“Hm? What is it, pretty? Want me to stop?”

You shook your head, nuzzling your face on the bed sheets. Chris could feel his heart swell in his chest, you were just how he wanted you to be… moaning, whining, saying his name and only his name.

But, still, it wasn’t enough.

Whenever you came home from work, with the smell of your coworkers all over you, he typically didn’t mind. It was only natural for you to smell like other people after spending all day with them, just like he probably did, too. But today, the smell of your male colleagues on you triggered something in him, something primal that was usually perfectly kept at bay.

You didn’t even question it when he wrapped his arms around your waist and held you from behind while you washed a pot in the sink. After all, it wasn’t uncommon for him to cling to you.

‘Are you a wolf or a koala?’ you’d ask him sometimes, which always made him chuckle.

Today, Chris didn’t chuckle at the question. He simply buried his face deeper in the crook of your neck, kissing and licking your skin, trying to get rid of any traces of foreign scents–or rather, trying to leave his behind.

Sneaking a hand under your shirt, he held your soft belly, squishing and kneading your flesh while his other hand was too busy caressing your hips. ‘…Right now? I’m a wolf, pretty. A very horny wolf’.

Which was how you both ended up here.

With a hand between your shoulder blades, Chris kept your upper body pressed to the mattress, while the other diligently rubbed circles on your clit, making you clench harder around his length, ripping a low growl from deep within his chest. The sound was barely audible, but it was certainly there, mingling with the slapping of skin that seemed to bounce off of the walls as he kept fucking you from behind.

The feel of the soft, supple flesh of your bum against his skin was absolutely delectable, and the squelching sounds coming from where your bodies met were starting to make Chris lose his mind. How many times had he come? Two? Three? He wasn’t sure. The only thing he was sure of was that it wasn’t enough. 

“You’re so fucking perfect, baby. Perfect”, Chris’ pace picked up, eliciting a desperate whine from your lips. “Perfect and mine. Right? Just mine?”

Tightening your grip on the bed sheets, seeking his forearm with your free hand, you simply nodded, pushing your hips back to meet his thrusts.

“Say it”, Chris spoke between gritted teeth, speeding the movement of his fingers on your clit, determined to get you to your peak. Well, to another peak…

How many times had you come? Three? Four? He didn’t know, and at this point, he didn’t care. Once again, all he knew was that it wasn’t enough.

“Y–yours”, you could barely speak, and had Chris been a bit more coherent he would’ve probably slowed down. But as it was now, he simply couldn’t. If anything, the faintness in your voice made him go faster, chasing not only the feel of your skin hitting his, but also the delicious feel of your tightness dragging back and forth around him. “Close…”

“Close?” Chris could certainly tell you were close. The smell of your arousal wrapped around every single one of his nerve endings, your heart was beating so fast and loud in your chest it was mingling with his own heartbeat in his ears.

The vice grip of your cunt clouded his mind, the feeling of you around him had him salivating, grunting, groaning… Tingles of pleasure ran up and down his spine, and he could feel his own orgasm nearing increasingly fast. 

“Can you take another load, pretty? Hm?”

He knew you could. After all, you’d already taken everything he had given you so far. But still, he desperately wanted you to say it, he needed you to say it.

You nodded again, whining, and something akin to the word ‘please’ left your mouth. That simple sound got him so incredibly close, so close he was starting to lose the little composure he had left in him.

“Need to…stuff you full, baby”, you didn’t say anything after the words left his mouth. You honestly didn’t need to, he could feel how hard you clenched as soon as he said it. “You like it, don’t you, love? When I fill you up? When I fuck my cum back in as deep as it can go?” 

You nodded, so eagerly he could feel his head start to spin.

That was exactly what he’d done this entire time, shoot his load into your warmth, only to keep fucking you even when you were already filled to the brim. It didn’t matter, though, because doing it once, twice, thrice, just wasn’t enough. Chris needed you to be as full of him as you could, he needed to give you more, as much as his body was capable of. And judging by how he’d not gone soft once the entire time, he just couldn’t stop until that primal need was fulfilled, until his inner wolf was satisfied.

Finally, you moaned his name, so prettily he almost felt blessed that he was able to hear you over and over again. With an assortment of loud swears, your whole body trembled with your release, and Chris finally removed his fingers from your sensitive nub. Instead, he brought both of his hands to your hips so he could pull you back to meet his thrusts when you clearly couldn’t do it on your own anymore.

He vaguely registered praising you for it. He could feel his heart swell with pride, not only because of how good he’d made you feel, but also for how well you’d done for him, for how well you’d taken it all. Satisfied mate, perfect mate, mine, just for me, soft mate just for me…

“Gonna–Fuck, pretty, gonna stuff you so fucking full…”

With a low, drawn out growl, Chris finally let himself go. The undeniable satisfaction of an orgasm always seemed to triple whenever he got to pump you full of his cum, and today, at this very moment, nothing had felt quite as fulfilling as this did.

Even when he came, though, he didn’t stop moving. He vaguely registered the sting of overstimulation, but he just couldn’t stop. All you did was take it. Take anything and everything he had to give as quiet whimpers fell from your lips and your nails dug on his forearm. 

“Need to…” He was panting, groaning, and he could barely hear anything over his beating heart in his ears. “Need to make sure it sticks….”

Chris was delirious, for sure. Nothing would stick. It never did, you were protected in that regard, but his numerous orgasms had his logical, human mind completely disconnected from reality. All he had left were his wolf instincts, those instincts that urged him to claim you in the utmost primal way possible, those instincts that urged him to give you a part of himself, that urged him to breed you.

One, two, three, four thrusts, and he finally stilled, groaning. A shiver ran up and down his spine, and before he could even stop himself, he collapsed, squishing you between his body and the mattress when your knees finally gave out under his weight.

Even through the haze, he couldn’t help but wonder if you could feel how hard his heart was beating against your back.

“Fuck, baby, you okay?” Chris was panting still, his mind foggy, oscillating between this moment in your shared bedroom and somewhere deep within himself.

You laughed. A hearty laugh, albeit a bit strained. “Are you?”

The sound brought to the forefront of his heart all that undeniable love he felt for you, dissipating some of that fogginess in his brain. Chris couldn’t help but laugh as well. 

Carefully, he peeled his body away from you, leaving the warmth of your inner walls in the process, which honestly shouldn’t have made him feel this irrationally sad. His erection was finally going down, he’d been hard for so long, but only now did he register how sore he was.

As soon as he kneeled on the bed, with his hands on your bum, spreading you open to see bucket loads of his cum trickling out of your abused hole, he felt himself twitch, and for a microsecond he feared the cycle would start all over again.

Thankfully, it didn’t.

Chris simply heaved a sigh of relief, absentmindedly staring at your centre, at your mixed fluids oozing out of you and soiling your bed sheets in the process.

It dawned on him then just how desperately needed this, which puzzled him a bit. Sure, he’d be the first to admit he loved to be all over you, but he genuinely felt like he couldn’t breathe until he stuffed you as full of his cum as he possibly could.

“Baby?” Your voice snapped him out of the daze he was in, making him blink. 

Looking back at your face, he was met with a teasing–yet a bit tired–smile on your lips. “Hm?”

“You weren’t listening were you?” 

Chris felt himself flush. Had you spoken? He hadn’t heard a single thing. Was he that pussy drunk? He supposed he couldn’t blame himself for it. Not when you were the girl of his dreams, not when you were almost glowing in your post-orgasmic bliss, not when he was this unequivocally in love.

He simply shook his head in response, ignoring the heat he felt spreading from his chest to the back of his neck. 

“I asked if you were enjoying the view, Christopher”, you chuckled, and it made him smile.

He licked his lips, returning his eyes to your drenched folds, just in time to see more of him coming out. You totally did that on purpose, and he couldn’t help but scoff a chuckle, finally letting go of your buttocks so he could land a smack on one of them, right before he laid down next to you and pulled you into his arms. 

“I was”, he admitted, because what would be the point of lying to you? If there was one thing he could be with you, it was being honest. Chris pressed a kiss on your forehead, holding you tighter. “I love you”.

“Mmm… Love you, too”, was all you mumbled back, tucking your head under his chin, and draping a leg over his hip, pulling him closer to you. “I’m okay, by the way”.

“Good”, with his index and thumb on your chin, he pulled your face up, enough so he could kiss you. Probably the softest kiss he’d initiated since this all started. “I’m okay, too. More than okay”.

You both stayed there for a while, just kissing, cuddling, sharing some warmth, until Chris asked if you’d like a bath, to which you immediately agreed.

Now, with his back against the tub, and with you between his legs, your back against his chest, he simply held you close as you told him about your day. Chris listened intently, massaging your soft body under the water in an attempt to soothe your achy limbs while you spoke to him. 

In here, all he could smell on you now was your floral scent and the smell of your shared home, which probably meant you also smelt like him. The realisation, along with the sound of your voice, helped his muscles relax. Finally, he was at ease.

Chris told you about his day, too. Nonessential information about things he’d done, or office gossip that he knew you’d enjoy listening to. Even when you eventually turned to face him, grabbing his shampoo and lathering your hands.

“Babe”, your fingers glided through his hair, massaging in his shampoo on his scalp. Chris would admit he enjoyed this more than he thought he ever would. Just looking at your face this close, feeling the soft movement of your hands on his head… It always felt incredibly intimate and soothing. So much so he was sure that, had he been in his wolf form, his tail would be wagging right now. “I think your rut is coming very soon”.

His eyes widened. He started doing the math in his head, had that much time passed already? “Shit, you might be right”.

“Might?” You chuckled, using a cup to gather water from the tub so you could rinse the shampoo out of his hair. “I am right, baby. You don’t just pump me full of your cum four times in a row for no reason”.

A smile made its way onto his lips. He looked you in the eyes, relishing the galaxies he could see in them, ignoring how fast his heart started to beat at the sight. It wasn’t the feeling he needed right now, not when he wanted to tease you effectively. “You were begging for it, too, though”.

Finally done with his hair, you cradled his face in your hands, staring right back at him. “That’s ‘cause I love it when you stuff me full of your cum, Chris”.

The fine hairs at his nape stood on end, and he had to make the conscious effort not to shiver. Bringing his hands to your waist, Chris pulled you closer. “Pretty, if I fuck you again today I’ll have to be hospitalised for dehydration. Don’t just casually drop that on me, God…”

You chuckled, leaning in, kissing him tenderly, and he simply melted under the soft movement of your lips on his.

You were right, though. His rut was surely coming soon, probably sometime next week… He’d have to start making arrangements soon, just like you had to, too.

Food had to be prepared, drinks had to be bought, PTO had to be confirmed, and any sexual activities had to be stopped to make sure your body was well rested enough for what was to come. Chris couldn’t let himself go like he did today, he didn’t want to inadvertently hurt you later because of his idiotic wolf urges…

Everything else could wait until tomorrow, though. Tonight, the only thing that mattered to him was enjoying your company and your warmth.

© therhythmafterthesummer 2023. all rights reserved. do not repost or translate my stories.

figured i’d tag anyone that wants to be tagged in my wereroomies instalments. if you don’t want to be tagged in little ask responses like these let me know ! If you want to be added to the tag list, you can fill in this form. be aware that you must have an indication that you’re an adult in your blog if you want me to tag you in my works

@222wonnie · @staaa96 · @oiminho · @straylightdream · @starshine-moon · @biribarabiribbaem · @100layersofdaddyissues · @dearalice · @alexis-reads-fics · @xcookiemonsteer · @knowleeknow · @chanlovesme · @liminaldaydream · @sstarryreads · @svngiem · @notastraykid · @princelingperfect · @violetpenguinkris · @leedunno · @peepeepoopooharrie · @aestheticsluut · @skzhomiehopper · @cessixja · @mimzibee · @hipsdofangirl · @djeniryuu · @floatingcoffecup · @minnysproutgriffinteddy · @moonmooncr · @phobia0325 · @leebitsimpracha · @viviixlyy · @casualenthusiastexpert · @kileidoscope · @kpop-bbdoll · @crispytigerearthquake · @meloncremesoda · @amaranth-writing · @fawnpeaks · @dalamjisung · @comet-falls

[bisexual-horror-fan]

Do-Over-December 20th. Role Reversal. "On The Other Side Of The Knife." Billy Loomis X FEM! AFAB! Reader. "

Now this is a real special one, topping a slasher is always so fucking fun! I need to write it more often, honestly, especially when it comes to Billy Loomis. He is such a slut and I love making him eat it so this is that. Enjoy as we come up on the last stretch of Kinky December.

—

Rating, Explicit. Length. 2.1K. (Old Length. 2K.) Warnings. Praise. Role Play. General Ghostface Fuckery. Knife Play. Blood Play. Rope Play. Sub/Dom Dynamics. Hair Pulling. Mentions Of Poly!Ghostface. Voyeurism. Restrained Billy. Submissive Billy. Dom Reader. Face Sitting. Cunnilingus. Dirty Talk. Teasing. Lingerie. 

—

It had started off as a joke. Isn’t that how most of these discoveries go? 

It’s all fun and games, laugh, laugh, joke, joke and then whoops turns out someone IS into that and just like that, a new kink is discovered. 

Still, when it happens to Billy, it is a shock for the both of you. But we are a little ahead of ourselves here. 

It had been a great night. A solo-session with the two of you, Stu indisposed for the evening, you loved being with both of them but getting to have Billy all to yourself on occasion was such a treat. You knew that he felt similarly, he loved Stu just as much and sharing you between the two of them was never an issue, it was a damn good time. Having you pinned in the middle was quite the sight to behold, writhing and the way you sounded? Oh my God, forget about that, it was perfection. 

But this wasn’t about the to be perfectly honest, wonderful times the three of you had. This was about you and him, and it went very well. A phone call, a chase, you were captured, trussed up, teased, taunted and taken. You were left pleasantly sore, skin slick with sweat, thoroughly satisfied, a little bloody in addition to his cum slowly leaking out of you. 

While on your back as he was untying you, pulling the ropes away and tracing the indents that they left in your skin. He was rubbing over the skin soothingly, he had long since ditched the costume, looking down at you affectionately, “You did so good tonight.”

He praised you as one of his hands rubbed over your thigh as he unwrapped the ropes from around your ankle and threw them aside. You were rubbing one of your wrists as you responded, “You weren’t so bad yourself.”

A laugh from him before firing back with a roll of his eyes,“Oof what high praise, baby.” 

His hand ran up your leg, he reached out and picked up the knife that was lying on the sheets next to you, he started to crawl over you, knife brandished and held out, “I think you should say something a little nicer to me.”

You smirked up at him and, feeling bold, you decided to challenge him, “Oh, should I now?”

“Mmm.” He hummed as the flat of the blade started to come down to your chest, and you got a very interesting idea. 

You reached up, hand coming to the back of Billy’s neck, and you pulled him down, leaning up to kiss him. He melted into it when your lips met, returning it easily, and you slowly took action. Your hand sliding up from his neck and into his hair and nails scratching over his scalp lightly, the soft groan he let out against your mouth was all the signal you needed, your other hand moved quickly and grabbed the knife from his hand. Your fingers threaded into his hair and tugged hard, you broke the kiss and the knife was held to his throat, you were about to tell some dumb joke and continue the banter and teasing-but his reaction made you stop. 

The way his eyes flew back open, the slight gasp, how he tensed and that look in his eyes as he stared down at you. Unsure, slight fear, arousal, a look you were sure he had seen painted on your face the first time you two did this when he was the one holding the knife. 

“Oh? I think he likes it.” You taunt, you hear him swallow audibly before he responds, “What? Me?”

He tried to say it in that classic and oh so confident way of his, but he couldn’t pull it off this time. Couldn’t hide the shake in his voice, obviously thrown off, or the slight flush on his face.

You decided to experiment a bit further. You tugged again on his hair as you held the knife a little closer to him and his breath caught in his throat, he swallowed thickly again, his tongue darts out to wet his lips nervously, and you couldn’t help the grin that broke out on your face.

Fuck.

Yep, no doubt about it. He liked it. He couldn’t hide it from you. 

You eased off shortly after that and did the appropriate thing. You talked about it. 

He did like it a lot. And he decided he wanted to try it out, being the victim for once. You could tell he was a little nervous, he wasn’t one to typically give up control, but he trusted you, and he certainly couldn’t ignore how shockingly good it felt when you took that bit of control from him. I mean, really, who could blame him for being curious. 

A plan was made, a date set and another night where it was going to be just you and him. Having both you and Stu ganging up on him was a tad too much to handle for his first go with this. You agreed, and besides, you wanted to do this to him on your own. 

It was just so fucking good. 

The fact he was being this open with you, so vulnerable and trusting was amazing on its own but seeing him like this was the best part. He had given you a lot of free rein with the planning, you knew him well and would figure out his limits together. You had a safe word and signals, and you felt confident. You kind of decided to go all in. 

It started as any good role play like this should, with a phone call.

He was waiting for you to come by, little did he know you were already there. Watching him through the window, as you talked to him, the conversation started easily and slowly, claiming to be a wrong number but bored and looking for someone ‘fun’ to talk to. You watched him as he looked around, trying to find where you were before you could strike, it WAS fun watching him go around but managing to keep his tone normal and light, he was a good actor. 

You slipped inside easily. 

See, part of the fun was figuring out how you would take him down. You had been on the receiving end many a time, and he was so fucking strong and could hold you down no problem. You wanted to genuinely get the drop on him, make it a bit more real. Not only that, but you had led him into the perfect position. Crouching low behind a corner, having a wire pulled taut between the hallway, phone cradled in your shoulder, he was coming, you totally had him.

“Where the fuck are you?!” He had gotten into the bit, playing along perfectly, and you couldn’t help but smile behind your mask. Wouldn’t he like to know?

You held the wire with one hand and knocked on the wall you were leaning on with the other, he obviously heard it, he came down the hallway quicker to follow the sound and you got him. He tripped, and you were on him in a second, he was sprawled on his back, and you were on top of him, seated on his chest. Your thighs are on either side of him, pinning his arms down with your knees, one hand gripping the collar of his shirt, tugging him up, you leaned down, and the cool plastic mask brushed his cheek as you whispered, “Gotcha.”

You sat up, and took him in, hair dishevelled, expression a fantastic mix of scared and nervous, lightly tinged with arousal. 

He looked you over. My God, the sight of you in that costume, knife gripped in your fist, it was all too exciting. You loved seeing him under you, he already looked flustered and you hadn’t even done anything… Yet.

“Now that I have you-” Dragging the back of the knife over the side of his face slowly, he squirmed under you,“-what to do with you?”

His gaze broke from the hollow eyes of the mask, face flushed. Looking away and being quiet, that wouldn’t do. You threaded gloved fingers in his hair and tugged hard. His breath hitched, and you felt him shift under you as you spoke, harshly, in a similar tone that he would use on you.

“Look at me.” He hesitated, and you tugged again, “I said-” You had that knife coming down and holding it to his throat as you finished your sentence,“Look. At. Me.”

He did, eyes snapping up to you, and that look made you want. His lips parted and the way he was breathing, you were practically dripping. You let go of his hair, and you leaned back, the knife still held to his throat, your other hand came behind you and you felt him. He was achingly hard in his jeans and when your hand made contact he fucking whined and arched into the touch and that made between your thighs pulse and made your own breath want to stutter. He looked fucking beautiful. 

You wanted so much more of this. “Don’t tell me that you are getting off on this.”

You taunted him, doing your best to play the part, and he responded to your teasing with a strained groan as you manipulated him through his jeans. It felt good to be in control.

“Look at you. Obviously loving it. What a little slut.” He actually groaned again when that last word passed your lips, and that had you so very pleased. He was already struggling to hold it together, you could tell. His eyes were pleading for more, but you couldn’t help but focus on his mouth. You were already terribly worked up yourself and in need of relief, and with him laid out in front of you like this, well you’d be a fool not to take advantage. 

You let go of him, and he fucking whimpered, head falling back against the hardwood, hips arching, calling out for more contact, and dear Lord you wanted to hear him do that again too. Instead, you tsk’d and said,“Greedy thing. This is about me right now-”

You stood up on your knees, pinning his arms to the floor with more force, and he winced at the slight pain, one hand running up your leg, gathering the smooth black fabric, starting to pull up the robe of your Ghostface costume,“-but I’ll tell you what.”

You moved that knife and ran the tip of it over his bottom lip, your head tilting to the side, hiking the material up even higher, “You be a good victim for me, and I’ll make sure you get what you deserve.”

The bottom of your robe gathered in one fist, he could now see what you had on underneath, and it wasn’t much. Thigh high stockings, sheer and smooth, lace tops and held up with a garter belt, barely there panties and his eyes went wider at the sight. 

One important thing you knew about Billy Loomis is he had a terrible weakness for lingerie of any kind, so combining that previous well-worn love of his with this new and exciting territory you were exploring together was mind-blowing. “I’m going to let you have use of your arms, don’t try anything funny.”

He nodded shakily, enraptured, practically dying to see what you were going to do next. You moved forward, getting into position, the hand holding that knife came down between your thighs, two fingers hooked in the crotch of your panties as you still held the weapon and moved your soaked underwear to the side. 

“You talked real big on the phone earlier. So many threats and awful things you said, and yet here you are now, quiet as a mouse.” A light laugh from you when he had no response, he looked wrecked and wanting, eyes fixated on your dripping core. You started to touch yourself in front of him, gloved fingers rubbed your clit in soft circles, you arch into your own touch, fingers slide down through your folds and back up again, you could hear how wet you are.

You spoke again, “How about you apologize properly, hmm? Then we can talk about if you are worthy of a reward.”

Your hand fell away, and you lowered yourself down onto his mouth, and his hands were immediately on your ass, eyes falling closed with a moan of pure satisfaction at the taste of you. With your fingers in his hair again, tugging him in closer to your cunt, a grind as your other hand came back, the tip of that knife dragging leisurely up his chest, he shuddered under you upon feeling the cold metal. 

“Now be a good boy and get to work.”

[hoesheez]

Destined…

Yeosang/Mingi

WARNINGS: mentions of drinking and slight fuckery 🤭 oh and its GAY so if you dont like then dont read!!

A/N: so i really really really love this ship so fucking much?? idk if its the thing where they say they don’t have each others phone numbers or they are supposedly “awkward” around each other got the gears turning and had me think up so many scenarios 🤭 and besides some fics on ao3 i couldn’t really find much?? (please link me some if im wrong)

MINIRS DO NOT INTERACT!

Yeosang!” Wooyoung’s voice rang in Yeosang’s ears as he finally snapped out of his sudden trance while playing their usual silly drinking game. “Did you hear me? I said, never have i ever gotten road head.”

The younger explained and Yeosang immediately put his last finger down, taking a sip of his drink and causing the others seated around the coffee table to cheer loudly. “Damn, what haven’t you done?” San asked with a chuckle as he cleared the empty beer bottles from the table. Yeosang sighed, “It’s exactly why I didn’t wanna play, I always lose.” He said as he stood up from his spot on the floor and headed to the bathroom.

He shut the door behind him, slumping down to the floor to catch his breath. His heart ached, his gut almost nauseous as he replayed Mingi’s prior prompt during the game.

“Never have I ever fucked a guy.”

The nerve of him to say that, right in front of the guy he had definitely fucked. He sighed deeply, standing up and checking his reflection in the mirror. Yep, he indeed was that same Yeosang that Mingi had denied, and he hated that it affected him so much.

There was a knock at the door, “Hold on,” Yeosang called out. “It’s me,” a familiar deep voice resounded from behind the door. Yeosang groaned audibly, earning a small laugh from Mingi as he opened the door to face him. He was met with a sly smirk on the taller man’s face, “You good?” he asked as he walked in.

Yeosang closed the door and leaned against it, avoiding eye contact with the younger man. “Yeah, you?” Mingi checked himself out in the large mirror, “Yeah.”

A short conversation, unnecessary even, as Yeosang watched Mingi run his fingers through his thick red hair, forming it back into whatever well quaffed hairstyle he had before the girl he brought with him messed it up as they made out in front of everyone.

Mingi moved back over to him, his eyes looking Yeosang up and down with a bite to his lower lip. “You look so good,” his voice trailed off to a whisper as he leaned in, easily caging the shorter man against the door. Mingi’s lips began kissing gently along his neck, trailing a hot path up to his ear where he nibbled on the older man’s earlobe. “Thanks, so do you.” Yeosang huffed as Mingi’s hands moved to rest on his bare waist exposed beautifully by the tight crop top he opted to wear that night. Mingi hummed into his ear, “Can I sleep over tonight?”

Yeosang pushed Mingi back, “Are you serious? After what you said? And what about your girlfriend?!” Yeosang spat, that same devilish smirk appearing on Mingi’s face once again. “What about her?” he said as he cocked his head to the side. Yeosang shook his head, of course he was just playing everyone he kept around him. Did the girl even know about him? Yeosang’s mind began to race with thoughts, his heart beginning to ache again cause of the man before him and his carefree attitude towards whatever relationship he thought they had. “Didn’t you just wanna be fuck buddies? What’s the problem?” Mingi asked as he walked towards the door. He looked down at Yeosang, as if waiting for a response while still opening the door to leave. “It’s nothing,” Yeosang said, walking ahead of him and heading back to the living room.

Upon joining the others, Wooyoung tried to get him to play another drinking game but he refused and grabbed his phone he had left on the coffee table. “Try to keep it down please, I’m going to bed.” Wooyoung simply nodded in response as he shuffled the deck of cards in his hands. Yeosang walked by Mingi on the way to his room, neither one of then acknowledging the other.

After a warm shower to clear his mind of the night’s events, Yeosang slipped into his pajamas and settled into bed. The laughs and cheers of his roommates and guests dying down as the night went on. After scrolling through his phone for about an hour, he finally got that usual message from Mingi.

“You up?”

Yeosang rolled his eyes by how comically cliche his life had become, all for sex with a guy that probably didn’t even like him.

“Just make sure you shower before getting in my bed.”

Mingi walked in after about half an hour, shirtless and with the most unnecessarily tight boxers that Yeosang had ever seen. He admired the way they hugged his lower half perfectly. The absolute fuckery of this situation suddenly the last thing on his mind as the muscular man walked over to him.

The bed dipped under Mingi’s weight, his bare face and glowing skin from his nightly routine causing Yeosang’s breath to hitch in his throat. Seeing him like this always made him realize just how lucky he was to be able to be around someone as gorgeous as he was. And how lucky he was to share a bed with him.

“You like me or something?” Mingi asked as he moved closer, laying next to his older bandmate. Yeosang sighed holding back a blush, “You can’t possibly be that full of yourself,” Yeosang moved to straddle Mingi, not wasting any time in rubbing their clothed bulges together with a swift move of his hips. Mingi chuckled, “I can’t? Have you seen me?” he teased with an eyebrow raised. Yeosang playfully put his hands around Mingi’s neck, “Please shut the fuck up.”

He then closed the gap between them, their lips meeting in a fervor. Yeosang hated him, he was sure of it. He hated his soft plump lips, his strong hands that gripped him tightly and that dumb, deep sexy voice of his that coaxed him so sweetly through every orgasm.

Mingi was unlike any other lover he had before, it’s probably why he kept coming back despite everything. If only his personality matched everything else, he’d be the perfect boyfriend for him.

Mingi gripped his hips tightly, easily pushing Yeosang onto his back, hovering over him before leaning in to suck hickeys onto his skin. His lips trailed down his lean body, kissing the soft outlines of his chest and abs. “Fucking perfect.” Mingi’s raspy voice echoing through his ears as his hands and mouth worked frantically to arouse him even further.

Yeosang grabbed Mingi’s bright red locks, tugging hard as the younger placed gentle kisses on the stubbly skin right under his belly button, then moving lower to kiss the bulge in the elders shorts. “Mingi please,”

The younger man took notice of his pleas and finally pulled the older’s shorts down, letting his hard dick finally spring free. He tossed the shorts aside and took Yeosang’s legs by his ankles, opening them wider and moaning when he caught a glimpse of his cock and asshole.

“Are you?” Mingi asked as he lowered his head and began licking Yeosang’s tight asshole, slobbering all over his skin and pushing the tip of his tongue into him. “Y-yes, fuck please hurry up.”

Mingi pulled away with a loud smack of his lips, replacing his mouth with two of his thick fingers. “I like seeing you react like this though,” his thick fingers plunged into Yeosang’s asshole, just barely pushing up against his prostate to tease him.

Yeosang was about to plead once more, his mouth opening to complain but Mingi relented and went to the bedside table. He grabbed the lube and a condom, putting the foil package in between his lips gently. He squeezed a generous amount of lube onto Yeosang’s hole, the sudden chill causing him to shiver.

He tore the condom open with his free hand and his lips and slipped it over himself swiftly. The elder turned to lay on his belly, looking back as Mingi lined himself up with his entrance, arching his back to give him better access. Mingi pushed the head of his cock against Yeosang’s slicked asshole, entering him slowly. Yeosang relaxed against him, the stretch as Mingi thrust in him fully making him whimper. God, he was so glad he skipped dinner, he thought to himself as Mingi bottomed out with a groan. Mingi’s big hands held Yeosang’s hands against his lower back, using them to pull himself further into him. He rolled his hips against the older man as he sighed deeply, “So much tighter than her, fuck!”

Yeosang turned back to look at Mingi, who seemed in an almost trance as he thrust into him faster and faster. Why the fuck was he talking about someone else right now? Mingi groaned and cursed as he picked up speed. Yeosang moaned along with him, the sudden pricking of tears at his eyes taking him by surprise as he felt Mingi’s hands on his shoulders, using him as leverage to fuck deeper. “Yes Sangie, yes.”

Hearing his nick name fall from his lips was enough to break the damn and the tears began to fall. Yeosang buried his face in the blankets, crying and moaning at the same time awkwardly, his body betraying his mind as he craved more of the big man behind him. It was in this moment he realized he was just another one of Mingi’s toys being used, in whatever way he liked. The younger man began thrusting faster, chasing his high as Yeosang began tugging on his own cock. “I’m close Sangie.” Mingi huffed as he leaned down to place kisses on the older man’s neck and back. Mingi pumped into him a few more times, coming into the condom with a deep grunt. Yeosang cane into his hand as Mingi’s cock brought him over the edge, a muffled moan accompanied by what sounded like a whine met Mingi’s ears. “Yeosang?”

Mingi’s voice was hoarse as he moved the sweaty hair from Yeosang’s face, seeing the tears that were falling from his eyes. “You’re crying?” Mingi pulled out of him, the older man quickly reaching for his shorts and putting them back on. “Did I hurt you?” he asked as he stood up, pulling the condom off and discarding it in the nearby trash.

Yeosang wiped at his tears and ran his fingers through his hair. “I’m fine, please just go.” Confused and wanting answers, Mingi didn’t budge. He moved to Yeosang’s side. “Please just tell me what I did?”

“Do you like me? Or am I some kind of sick fantasy for you? You have a girlfriend you fuck and then you come and fuck me like that? What exactly is this?” Yeosang spat, his sudden rambling catching even him by surprise. He turned away from Mingi, who just sat next to him and looked at the floor. “I’m not gay Yeosang, I just like having sex with you, and her, and I don’t want that to change.” He stood up and grabbed his boxers, shuffling into them and heading towards the door. “So you are just using me?” Yeosang sighed deeply, the younger man turning to him. “That’s what we agreed on isn’t it? Are you catching feelings? Is that why you were crying?” Yeosang stood up, taking one of the pillows on his bed and throwing it at Mingi, “Get the fuck out!” The younger obliged and quickly left, leaving Yeosang to cry his eyes out until he went to bed.

Yeosang would spend the next few days completely ignoring Mingi and pretending everything was fine. The argument they had the other night just another incident in his life of chasing after a fuckboy. He even blocked his number funnily enough, after finally having the real thing for only a few months.

After a long practice day, the four roommates were hanging out in their living room. Yeosang sat next to Wooyoung and watched as the man he was trying to ignore sat in front of him playing video games with San.

“Yeonjun is another really cute 99er, don’t you think?” Wooyoung asked as he watched the men play a fighting game in front of him, waiting patiently for his turn. Yeosang sighed and rolled his eyes, “Wooyo, please stop trying to hook me up, I’m not interested in dating right now.” His friend shook his head, “Who said anything about dating? I’m saying you should fuck him.” Wooyoung said bluntly. San chuckled, “Wow! So romantic, Youngie,” his boyfriend said sarcastically. Wooyoung rolled his eyes and ignored San’s comment.

“I don’t need help getting laid, but thanks, I guess?” Yeosang laughed and busied himself with his phone, tired of burning holes with his eyes into the back of Mingi’s head. “So, you are fucking someone? I knew it!” the younger man said as he moved closer. “Who is it? Do i know them? Are they in our company?” Wooyoung’s rapid fire questions went unanswered as his friend ignored him.

Mingi continued to click the buttons on the remote like it was nothing, reaching over San and grabbing a chip to munch on. “It’s none of your business.” Yeosang said and Wooyoung just moved in closer to him, “Ohhh? So you like them then huh? Not telling me about it means it’s serious.” he poked Yeosang’s cheek playfully as he waited to hear more.

Yeosang shook his head, laughing awkwardly, “Actually no, you just don’t need to know him thats all.” He immediately regretted saying too much as Wooyoung smiled wide showing all of his teeth “HIM?!” Wooyoung’s voice practically shattered the windows as he screamed and stood up on the couch.

“You’re having hot gay sex and not giving me any details?! What kind of a friend are you?!” Yeosang wanted to implode, to run away without having to answer and started inching his way off of the couch but Wooyoung held him down with his body, throwing himself on top of his friend.

San turned to them, a thick eyebrow raised, “They 99 too?” Yeosang scrunched his mouth into a line, “Absolutely not telling you that.” he said as he tried pushing Wooyoung off of him. “Okay okay, just tell me one thing then,” Wooyoung said with a sinister smile, “How’s the sex?”

Yeosang’s breath hitched as he involuntarily looked at Mingi, wondering what he could be thinking. He quickly darted his eyes to the TV, then in about twenty other directions. He soon realized however that he didn’t owe Mingi anything, not any kind words or even any kind of sympathy. And he still felt like shit after what he said to him the other night. He stilled his resolve and sighed.

“Not great.” Wooyoung let out a loud laugh and Mingi suddenly stopped pressing the buttons on the remote. San quickly took the opening and knocked out Mingi’s character. A loud “KO!” was heard in the silence of the room. San elbowed him, “The hell was that? you kinda just gave up there.” Mingi handed him the remote and stood up, “Tired,” was all he said before saying goodnight and heading off to his room.“Youngie,” San said with his deep voice as he handed his boyfriend the remote.

“Anyway, do you want Yeonjun’s number or not?” Wooyoung asked before eating a handful of gummy bears. Yeosang didn’t know how to answer, he was still taken aback by Mingi’s sudden departure after what he said. Did he strike a nerve? He couldn’t help but feel good about having that effect on him though, wondering if Mingi had ended up catching feelings too? Why else would he just get up and leave like that? He wondered how his former lover would react to seeing him with someone else, and decided to seize the opportunity to make him jealous. “Sure, give me his number.”

———————————————-

It wasn’t long before 2Yeo became a thing, the term of course coined by Wooyoung. Yeonjun was sweet and so kind to him, the perfect boyfriend honestly. Yeosang couldn’t complain about much. But when it came to the sex, it just wasn’t as good as it was with Mingi.

They came back to the dorms late after another perfect date. They giggled and stumbled along the dark hallway to Yeosang’s room and were on each other as soon as the door was closed.

“Yeosang, fuck you feel so good,” Yeonjun’s voice was low and raspy as Yeosang rode him slowly. Yeonjun met his thrusts, his eyes practically rolling to the back of his head. Yeosang tugged on his own cock, feeling Yeonjun’s dick so deep inside prodding at his prostate, his peak bounding near. He shut his eyes, the sudden thought of Mingi’s deep voice in his ears praising him huskily. How could he even be thinking about someone else at this time? He was no better than Mingi in that regard as he remembered their last time together. Yeonjun was the first person he’d hooked up with since Mingi, so he couldn’t help but compare the two, but this was the absolute worst time to do so.

He shook the thoughts away and tried to focus on Yeonjun’s sweet moans under him as the man gripped his thighs tightly. His euphoric peak came over him, his next words betraying him and the person he was on top of. “Fuck, Mingi!” Yeosang cried out as he came, his hot seed spurting out onto Yeonjun’s abdomen.

Yeonjun was almost frozen under him as he opened his eyes finally, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. It only registered in his mind when he saw the look on Yeonjun’s face, “Oh shit, Yeonjun I’m sorry.” he yelped as he covered his face with his hands.

The man under him sat up on his elbows and looked at him, his cheeks red from embarrassment. “Wow,” he huffed as he looked at Yeosang, who had finally moved off of him. “God I’m so sorry, I was thinking of him and“ Yeonjun’s eyes went wide, “While you were fucking me?”

Yeosang shook his head trying to still the other’s anxiety, getting up and grabbing some tissues to clean him up. He wiped his release from Yeonjun’s stomach and took the condom off of him, “I promise it’s not like that, there’s nothing between me and Mingi, I swear.” He leaned over and gave Yeonjun a kiss once he was finished. “It just came out by mistake.” Yeonjun moved to stand up, “Don’t worry about it, its fine.” he lied and collected his scattered clothes off of the floor.

He quickly put his clothes back on, reaching for his phone on the nightstand and checking the time. “I have an early schedule tomorrow, so i should go.” Yeosang threw on some shorts and a shirt and hurried after him, “Let me walk you out.”

They exited his room and walked by the kitchen on the way to the front door. The last person Yeonjun probably wanted to see currently in the kitchen, shuffling around making something to eat. “Oh, hey Yeonjun.” Mingi said with a wave, one that Yeonjun simply ignored.

Yeosang suddenly felt sick, his stomach in knots and a cold sweat beginning to form on his brow. Yeonjun turned back and gave him a kiss once they reached the front door. He pulled away and rested his forehead on Yeosang’s, “Sorry if i was rude just now, I just wasn’t expecting to see him.” he said with a sigh and a roll of his eyes. Yeosang shook his head, “It’s okay, just call me later.”

After saying their goodbyes, Yeosang went back into the kitchen. “Your boyfriend’s fucking rude,” Mingi’s voice stopped him in his tracks.

“He’s just tired,” the older man said, trying to excuse his boyfriends behavior. Mingi scoffed, his hands busy cooking as he looked over at Yeosang. “You hungry?” Yeosang shook his head, “No, I’ll probably just have some water and go to bed” He opened the cabinet that housed the cups and before he could even reach for one, Mingi came over and grabbed one for him. He took the glass, looking up into Mingi’s eyes, wanting to tell him about what happened but also not wanting to hurt Yeonjun in that way. He knew Mingi would just laugh and make fun of him so he just kept it to himself. “Thanks.”

Yeosang stood there watching him, a question still on his mind. “Do you remember when me and Wooyoung were talking and you suddenly left the room after what I said?” he asked as he filled the glass with water. Mingi chuckled, “You mean when you said I was a terrible lay?” he scraped his food out of the pan and onto the waiting dish near the stove.

“I didn’t say terrible,” he said and took a sip, “but I was trying to hurt your feelings.” Yeosang said reluctantly, unsure of how he’d take it. “Well, it worked.” Mingi took a big bite of his food. “We both know it’s not true, unfortunately.” Yeosang said with a sigh, his heart skipping a beat as a sudden heat washed over him. Mingi turned to him, a cocky smirk on his face. God he’d be lying if he said his dick didn’t just jump from that. Mingi walked up to him, backing him up against the counter and placing his hands on either side of the elder. “Really? Then why aren’t you in my bed right now?” Mingi practically growled as he leaned closer and inhaled Yeosang’s scent that he had missed so much.

Mingi brought Yeosang’s face to look up at him, “I probably deserved that, what you said to Wooyoung, I was horrible to you, I’m sorry.” Yeosang’s heart skipped a beat as Mingi kissed him softly. He wanted nothing more than to just melt against him, to pull him closer and kiss him back, but he knew he couldn’t. Yeosang pulled away first, “I have a boyfriend, Mingi.” His voice betrayed him as it cracked, his heart aching in his chest.

“Break up with him, please?” Mingi asked desperately. Yeosang felt tears stinging his eyes suddenly, the situation growing worse by the second. “But you said you didn’t feel the same, why are you saying all of this now?” Mingi turned away, rubbing his hair roughly, a loud groan escaping his mouth. “Cause I didn’t think it’d bother me so much seeing you with someone else!”

Yeosang realized in that moment that he finally got him, but at a price. The price being Yeonjun’s heart. “It’s a little too late now.” Yeosang turned away from him with a heavy heart. “I know,” the younger said, walking back to his food and taking a bite of his food angrily. Yeosang left without another word and headed back to his room before he did something he’d seriously regret.

The next day, there was a knock at Yeosang’s door, “It’s me,” Mingi said from the other side. Yeosang went to open it and was met with his bandmate in workout gear. “Uhm, did you wanna go to the gym?” Yeosang couldn’t help but smile at the younger’s shyness. The ultra charismatic rapper that always dazzled on stage, was currently in front of him avoiding his eyes. “Just the two of us?” Mingi nodded and turned to look down the hall, “Some of the guys are at the studio and Wooyoung and san don’t wanna go so,” Mingi sighed, “Actually forget it, it’s fine.” Yeosang grabbed his arm, “No I’ll go just give me a few minutes.”

Once Yeosang was done getting ready he met Mingi in the living room. Wooyoung looked over at his friend, “The two of you going somewhere?” his voice lowered as he stared between the two of them, “Alone?” Yeosang eyed his friend, wondering what he meant by that. Wooyoung flashed him a smile however, “Have fun!” he exclaimed and blew them both a kiss. Once they left, Wooyoung turned to San, “Yeosang said Mingi’s name while he fucked Yeonjun.” he said quickly, covering his mouth with his hands as if that would take back the words he just spoke. San choked on his drink at the news and then laughed way too hard at what he just heard.

After an intense workout session, one that was surprisingly as un- flirtatious as possible, they arrived back at the dorm. They heard a familiar voice coming from the kitchen and Yeosang sighed deeply. “Fuck, he’s gonna think we were doing something together.” Mingi looked down at the shorter man, “We were though? We went to the gym? Why does it matter?” Yeosang just looked at Mingi, realizing he was making a big deal about it and should calm down or he’d have to tell Mingi why it would be a problem with them walking in together. “It’s nothing.” Yeosang headed to the kitchen and greeted his boyfriend that he wasn’t expecting to see.

“Hey babe.” Yeosang said with a sigh and came over to give Yeonjun a kiss. “Well I really hate to be a horrible host, but i should go.” Wooyoung’s voice was in a high pitched tone as if he knew he was in trouble. “Why?” Yeosang questioned his friend, seeing his demeanor suddenly change as Mingi walked in. Yeonjun’s eyes immediately went to Mingi and they exchanged a greeting, albeit a very awkward one. Yeosang then realized why his friend was acting so weird. He went over to him and pinched his arm playfully, mouthing a “You know?” so that only he could see.

San emerged from the hall and Wooyoung cheered. “Oh thank fuck, baby don’t we have something?” he asked as he walked over to his boyfriend, who was taken aback by his sudden statement. “What?” San asked and finally took in his surroundings. He looked between 2Yeo and Mingi who was now looking in the fridge. San chuckled and pulled Wooyoung into a back hug. “No I think we’re right where we’re supposed to be.” he said and gave him a small peck on the cheek. “Why are you shaking?” he asked Wooyoung as Mingi closed the fridge and looked amongst them all, “Can we order something? I’m starving.”

They all sat awkwardly in the living room, waiting for the food. Mingi stared at Yeonjun as he sat closely to the man he already accepted as his. Yeosang stared at Wooyoung, silently seething and regretting ever inviting him to audition at KQ. San did his best to hold back his laughter at the whole situation, his boyfriend next to him practically vibrating with anxiety. “So anyway, Hongjoong suggested we throw a party,” San’s voice finally broke the silence, “Yeonjun, you’re more than welcome to come of course, and tell your members too.” Mingi rolled his eyes at the suggestion, his body language getting tense as he absentmindedly watched whatever was on the TV. “Cool, I’ll let them know,” Yeonjun said and turned to Wooyoung, “You should see if Changbin is free, and the others.” Wooyoung went on his phone and began typing, “Thats a great idea!”

“Mingi are you single?” Yeonjun asked as he pulled Yeosang closer. Yeosang looked at his boyfriend, wondering where he was going with this and if he should stop him. “Yeah, why?” Mingi turned to their guest, his position on the couch changing as he focused. He leaned forward, his forearms on his thighs, looking ready to jump up and fight him if he had to for whatever reason. Yeosang felt a wave of heat erupt over his body as he looked between Mingi’s legs, his manspread in his workout shorts leaving nothing to the imagination. God he hated how attracted he still was to him.

Yeonjun cocked his head to the side, “I hear Felix is single too and he seems like your type.” Yeosang’s heart fell to his stomach, what the fuck was Yeonjun trying to do? “How would you even know my type?” Mingi asked, but before Yeonjun could retort, the doorbell rang, signaling that their food was here. “Finally!” Wooyoung yelped as he stood suddenly, “I’m in a hell of my own creation.” he said under his breath as he opened the front door and grabbed their food.

The presence of food meant that the conversation ended, the men too busy enjoying their meals. They soon cleaned up and San offered everyone some beer as they relaxed. Yeosang could tell there was something on Yeonjun’s mind so he reached over and put a hand on his thigh, “What’s up with you?” His question fell on deaf ears however as Yeonjun seemed determined to find out some kind of truth.

“Are the two of you fucking?” Yeonjun said unprompted. Wooyoung turned to San slowly, hoping he had an answer for their current predicament. “Who the fuck are you talking to?” Mingi cursed as he looked over at Yeonjun, already on edge having to see them so close to one another. “Babe, why are you asking that? There’s nothing between us, there never was.” Yeosang lied and averted Mingi’s hurt gaze. “Then why did you say his name when we fucked? There has to be a reason right?” Wooyoung and San stood up in unison finally ready to make their escape. They shuffled around the coffee table awkwardly as they made their exit, quickly running to their room and closing the door. Those who remained in the living room could hear Wooyoung let out a muffled scream.

“You didn’t have to bring that up in front of him, are you trying to embarrass me?” Yeosang’s voice was low as he looked down at his hands. Mingi who hadn’t responded with much more than a frown upon seeing Yeosang so upset, swallowed his pride, although he wanted nothing more than to put Yeonjun in his place. “Like he said, there’s nothing going on, and nothing has ever happened between us.” Yeonjun sighed deeply, running his fingers through his hair. “Okay, then I’m probably just overthinking things, sorry.”

After the awkward conversation and a kiss of reassurance to Yeonjun as he left, Mingi and Yeosang were now alone. Yeosang felt a pang of guilt in his chest, even though technically he hadn’t done anything wrong. “Do you even like him, Sangie?” Mingi’s soft and low voice pulled him from his thoughts. Yeosang nodded, “He’s good to me. He’s kind and genuine, he’s caring and says all the right things.” the man’s voice trailed off in thought as all he could do was compliment his boyfriend, but not admit that he didn’t really feel anything towards him.

“But do you like him?” Mingi asked again as he moved closer to Yeosang. He looked at Mingi with tears in his eyes and shook his head. “I haven’t stopped liking you, Mingi.” Mingi pulled him in close, embracing him tightly as he cried.

That night Yeosang lay in bed, messaging Wooyoung about his dilemma. His friend offered him his best advice, which just ended in him having to break up with Yeonjun. A message from Mingi appeared, his number now unblocked thanks to their gym date.

“did you really say my name while he fucked you?”

Yeosang’s face got hot as he read the message. He then let out a groan as he contemplated his life choices.

“Yeah I did“

He watched the three dots dance as Mingi typed, hoping whatever he had to say wasn’t going to embarrass him further.

“That’s so fucking hot Sangie”

Yeosang felt his stomach jump at the message, biting his lip as he teased the idea of flirting.

“I was thinking of you, while i was riding him, and it just came out”

Yeosang reached down into his shorts and began to tug on his dick, waiting for Mingi’s response.

“You’re making me so fucking hard right now, want you so bad.”

Yeosang contemplated letting the man into his bed, the fleeting thought sending a pang of guilt to his heart. He didn’t stop touching himself though. He reached into his bedside drawer, pulled out the lube and squirted enough in his hand to aid in his ministrations. He shut his eyes and thought about Mingi. He remembered the delicious stretch of his big cock going in and out of him relentlessly. A small moan escaped his lips as his phone buzzed.

He opened the message and watched in awe as Mingi stroked himself in the video he just sent him. His hand pumped fast, the sound of his slicked skin made Yeosang buck up into his hand harder. He knew what he was doing was wrong, in every way, but he couldn’t stop himself. He moved to position himself on his knees, putting a pillow in front of him to support his phone as he recorded himself. He tugged on his dick harder and faster, his abs clenching as he let out a moan. “M-Mingi, fuck me.” he huffed out as he fucked up into his hand seeking his release. He came in no time, his cum spurting out in thick ribbons over his hand and abs. He shakily took the phone, quickly sending the video to Mingi.

“fuck i love it when you say my name.”

Yeosang cleaned up with a tissue, quickly laying back down after putting his shorts back on. His mind reeled as he waited for whatever Mingi had to say next. He fall asleep unfortunately, not seeing Mingi’s response video until the next morning, a wave of guilt washing over him once again. ———————————————-

The night of the party finally arrived and as promised TXT and Stray Kids members were in attendance. Yeosang stayed on his boyfriend’s arm all night, feeling the need to redeem himself even though Yeonjun had no idea about his sexting session with Mingi.

Mingi managed to stay away from him too, chatting with his bestie Yunho and the other guests. Wooyoung observed their distance and chugged his drink, hoping this situation would work out in Mingi’s favor. Yeosang didn’t know that the two of them had been talking about what happened and how he was secretly rooting for his two bandmates to get together. The tension between them was thick and Wooyoung could only pretend to be nice for so long. As he contemplated his previous decision to introduce 2Yeo, he watched as Felix sat down next to Mingi. He was suddenly on high alert, as if he was tasked to be Yeosang and Mingi’s matchmaker. He went to his friend, smiling at Yeonjun as he asked to borrow his boyfriend.

Wooyoung pulled Yeosang into the bathroom, closing the door and breathing deeply. “We’re suddenly not the hottest twinks here!” Yeosang rolled his eyes knowing what he meant immediately. “He really didn’t need to wear a damn mini skirt but fuck his legs look incredible.” the older man said, referring to Felix’s choice of attire. “And Mingi’s all over him!” Wooyoung said and threw his hands in the air.

Yeosang raised a brow at him, “So what?” The younger man sighed dramatically, taking his friend’s shoulders in his hands and lightly shaking him. “That should be you! Fuck why haven’t you broken up with Yeonjun yet?!” Yeosang was taken aback, why did Wooyoung suddenly care about what happened between him and Mingi? “If I had known the two of you liked each other, I never would’ve given you Yeonjun’s number.” he said with a sigh.

“Mingi told you?” Yeosang asked as he placed a hand on his hip. “Don’t blame him! I basically forced it out of him, I needed to know after Yeonjun told me about uh, the incident.” Yeosang realized that Wooyoung knew the whole time, but didn’t pry even though he was the most nosy out of them all. “Do you think we’d be good together? He was kind of an asshole to me at first.” Yeosang explained letting wooyoung know it wasn’t always a mutual interest, or so he thought.

Wooyoung nodded, “I know, and he hates himself for it, he was just really unsure of his sexuality. I told him he doesn’t need to put a damn label on it! If he likes you then that’s all that matters right?” he sighed and checked himself out in the mirror, “The two of you are making me age rapidly.” Yeosang elbowed him playfully, “Thanks Wooyo, you’re nice when you’re not plotting.” he said and checked himself in the mirror next. “Oh I’m still plotting! And If you don’t break up with Yeonjun, I’ll do it for you!”

The two of them hugged and went back to the party. Wooyoung quickly went to San and kissed him deeply, surprising the man and pulling him from his conversation with Changbin. “Thank god you’re my soulmate.”

Yeosang laughed at his best friend’s interaction with his boyfriend and turned to finally deal with his “problem” next. He sighed deeply and stilled his nerves, contemplating how he’d start the conversation. He looked at Yeonjun who was talking and laughing with the others, his bright smile making his heart melt. He went through a couple of different scenarios in his mind, his attention suddenly turned towards the hall however. He watched in shock as Mingi and Felix walked out of Mingi’s room, his heart sinking to his gut. The hot blonde that stole the eyes of most of the men at the party adjusted his skirt as he walked by him and back to the couch. Mingi cleared his throat as he walked up to Yeosang, “It’s not what it looks like, he just wanted to see my PC.” the taller man explained, feeling as though he needed to explain himself. With the way Yeosang was fed up with this whole situation he just ignored Mingi and went to Yeonjun, whispering in his ear.

Mingi couldn’t help but smile as he watched 2Yeo head out of the apartment together. He turned to Wooyoung who gave him a very excited thumbs up with a face that looked like he wanted to cry.

Yeosang held Yeonjun’s hand in his as they walked outside. “Yeonjun I-“ as the man spoke Yeonjun cut him off with a sigh. “Did you ever even like me?” he asked as he pulled his hand away. “Did I do something wrong? Or was I not doing enough?” Yeosang took both of Yeonjun’s hands this time, meeting his gaze, “Yeonjun! You’re literally the perfect boyfriend, okay? I’m just, in love with someone else, I’m sorry.” he rubbed his hands with his thumbs, pulling him closer.

“Mingi?” he asked and Yeosang nodded. Yeonjun pulled away with a sigh, “Shit.” Yeosang began to feel lighter, his worries and burdens floating off of him with every word as he spoke. “You’ll make someone really happy Yeonjun, I’m sorry that I couldn’t be that person for you.” Yeonjun just nodded, “Right, I’m sorry too, for wasting your time.”

Mingi sat next to Felix as he waited for Yeosang to come back, the blonde going on about how many different gacha games he was currently playing. Yeonjun walked in first, going straight to his members Soobin and Beomgyu and whispering something to them. He then went and thanked Wooyoung for the invite and left without another word. Soobin and Beomgyu awkwardly waved goodbye to the other guests snd followed Yeonjun out of the apartment.

Yeosang went and poured himself a shot, throwing it back quickly as Wooyoung walked up to him. “Me too.” he said cheekily and pushed a shot glass next to Yeosang’s empty one. Yeosang poured them both a shot and they clinked the glasses together before clearing the shots with ease.

The party went on without any other issues, the guests laughing and enjoying themselves as the night went on. The party guests soon began to leave, but the twink of the hour came up to Mingi and gave him his number. He kissed him on the cheek and headed out with his members. Yeosang rolled his eyes snd went off to his room, Mingi following close behind as Wooyoung and San laughed loudly.

Mingi huffed as he entered Yeosang’s room, “Please don’t be mad at me I-“ the man’s words caught in his throat as he saw Yeosang clad in the tightest lace lingerie. “Close the door.” the older man commanded and Mingi obeyed, shutting the door loudly. Yeosang walked over to him, his lean and muscular body looking absolutely stunning as he strutted over. Mingi licked his lips in anticipation, gulping audibly as Yeosang reached down and palmed the taller man through his jeans. “You were wearing this the whole time? you look so fucking good, Sangie,” Mingi’s voice was so gravely and needy it made Yeosang whimper. “This isn’t the only thing I’ve been wearing all night.” he said and took Mingi’s hands, bringing them to rest on his plump rear. Mingi’s jaw dropped when his hands explored the expanse of Yeosang’s ass and his fingers landed on the plug in his asshole. “I’m going to be so fucking good to you, I promise Sangie.”

Yeosang’s heart swelled as the man of his dreams leaned in to kiss him, pulling him closer and walking him backwards to his bed. Yeosang turned and got on his knees, slowly crawling in front of Mingi to give him a better look at his rear. He heard the younger man’s breath hitch in his throat as he arched his back and moved his rear teasingly.

Mingi eagerly removed his clothes, got on his knees and pulled the plug from his lover’s asshole. Mingi immediately spit on the stretched out hole before him, burying his face into it tongue first. “Ah! Mingi!” he yelped out, not caring for a second who heard him. He reached back and tugged Mingi’s hair harshly, signaling to the man that he wanted more and needed him deeper inside. Mingi spat and slobbered all over him, using his thick fingers to pump into him while he licked down his taint and began sucking on his thick ball sack from behind. Yeosang felt his head spin from his touch, moaning wildly as Mingi worked on him, pouring every bit of his passion into what he was doing.

Mingi pulled off of him, earning a whine from the smaller man as he stood. Mingi slapped his ass in appreciation before pulling off his boxers. Yeosang turned to meet Mingi’s big, hard cock, taking it into his mouth while holding onto his thighs. He moaned as the dick he had missed for months was finally back in his mouth. “I’m so fucking stupid, shit!” Mingi cursed as Yeosang took him in further, “You’re perfect for me and I’m a fucking idiot.” Yeosang pulled off of him with a pop, “Let’s not talk about that anymore.” he said as he pumped him and leaned up for a kiss. “What we have from now on is way more important.” He wrapped his arms around Mingi’s neck and pulled him down to hover over him.

Their lips met and Yeosang held him closely as if he was scared he’d disappear right then and there. Mingi reached down and tore the lace bra Yeosang was wearing, his hot mouth moved to trail kisses down Yeosang’s neck and chest. His tongue licked and swirled around his now exposed nipples, sucking on them desperately before pulling away. Mingi looked down at him with a smile before getting the lube from the nightstand. Yeosang shimmied out of his underwear and waited for Mingi to finish prepping himself. He licked his hand and tugged on his dick, “Did you want to, fuck me without a condom?” Yeosang huffed as he fucked up into his hand. “You sure?” Mingi asked waiting for Yeosang’s nod of approval before he coated himself generously with lube. The older man reached out for Mingi to pass him the lube. He squeezed a glob onto his own asshole and pushed his fingers inside. Mingi moved to replace Yeosang’s hand with the tip of his bare cock, sliding in smoothly and bottoming out inside of him. Mingi leaned down, kissing him briefly before pulling away to look at him.

Yeosang’s face contorted in pleasure as Mingi picked up his pace. The younger man looked down at the older, taking in his soft beautiful features and kissing him all over his face. Yeosang giggled, “So gentle, you’re allowed to be rougher with me, you know.” Mingi moaned against his neck, feeling the tightness of Yeosang molding against him. “I’m trying to make love to you Sangie, not just fuck you.” He pulled away and placed his hands on either side of the man under him, looking down into his eyes intensely. Yeosang wrapped his legs around Mingi’s waist as the man above him thrust in an out agonizingly slow. “Feels so good,” Yeosang sighed, his hands coming to hold the back of Mingi’s head. “Better than Yeonjun?” Mingi said with a smirk and Yeosang blushed, “Stop it!” he chastised him but moaned when Mingi’s fat cock hit his prostate. “But yes, ahh!” his moans were like a song as they fell on the younger’s ears, his lips kissing his neck and chest before moving back to kiss his lover on the mouth.

They held each other close as Mingi started to move faster, Yeosang meeting his hips desperately. “Just like that Sangie, fuck.” Mingi growled into his ear as they chased their highs. The sound of skin slapping against skin accompanied with the occasional moan filled the room as they loved on one another, fucking each other with true love for the first time.

“Mingi!” Yeosang cried out as his peak crashed into him, causing his body to shake as he came all over himself and Mingi. As Yeosang came, Mingi pumped into him a few more times, letting out a soft moan, the softest Yeosang had ever heard, and filled him with his release. As he stilled inside of him, Yeosang rubbed his back and praised him softly. “Mmm, so good Mingi, no one has ever fucked me like that, so fucking good.” his voice was deep in Mingi’s ears, giving the younger man the praise he knew he loved as he kissesd wherever he could reach on Yeosang’s soft skin.

After cleaning up, they dressed in pajamas and got comfortable in bed. “Have you ever even been to my room?” Mingi asked as Yeosang lay on his chest. “Not since we moved in, why?” Yeosang asked as he looked at Mingi, who had a concerned look on his face. “Do you want to, sleep in my bed tonight?” Mingi asked with an eyebrow raised. Yeosang nodded, the beginning of many firsts for the new couple making him feel just that more special.

Mingi got out of bed first and picked Yeosang up bridal style and they giggled through the hall towards Mingi’s room. He placed his prize down on his bed and continued to kiss him, telling him just how great they’ll be together and how much he loved him.

A/N: honestly i didn’t know how to end it but i think it turned out cute?? i just love them together they’re so awkward and adorable together? 🤭❤️❤️❤️

[voxofthevoid]

Commencing Mundane Unclekuna Wednesday #1—yes, these names get more ridiculous by the day. The actual fic title is bloodstains on the collar means just don't ask, which is significantly cooler on account of not being mine.

This is my first non-canon JJK AU—as opposed to the canon divergence, minor or major, that I favor—and despite the name, this isn't just sukuita; there's also goyuu. Quick, act shocked.

A lot of the AU development/exposition so far has focused on adapting canon details about the Itadori family for a no-powers, all-human context—like this post shows. On the character end, sorting out a version of Sukuna who's not a cannibalistic mass murderer but is sure as hell not nice, kind, or even sane has been a fun challenge, especially when depicting him from Yuuji's perspective. Gojou and the goyuu bits also needed some work, since taking them out of the canon context while keeping their age gap and teacher–student dynamic changes the flavor of fuckery. The most fun has been Yuuji though—you can see why here.

The fic is currently 3 chapters and 14k. I have a total of 7 chapters planned, though that may increase by one or two depending on how the sex scenes come along. For this week, instead of a single scene, I've picked a goyuu section from Chapter 2 and a sukuita one from Chapter 3.

Goyuu

Satoru plucks the manga that’s been resting on the table, balancing it on a finger while watching Itadori struggle to watch Satoru’s hand, chest, and face all at the same time. “School’s a boring place to wait. You can meet up at some café, can’t you?”

“I…guess?” Itadori shrugs. “It’s fine. I mean, I don’t mind. It’s more fun to go with people.”

“Shy?” Satoru asks, setting the manga down. “Or are you afraid people will think you’re some delinquent?”

Itadori looks both bewildered and entrained. He has a very expressive face. The eyes, especially.

“Nothing like that, sensei,” he says, and Satoru leans in a little at his tone—the same amused patience Satoru’s heard in people who can tolerate him best, except they generally take months, if not years, to get to that level of resigned acceptance. Itadori leans in too, matching Satoru consciously or unconsciously. “You ask a lot of questions.”

“I’m a curious guy,” Satoru drawls. It’s not even a lie. “And you’re interesting.”

Itadori blushes again. “Oh. Um, thanks?”

Satoru smiles. This time, Itadori’s eyes drop to his mouth, and Satoru can’t help smiling a little wider.

Itadori swallows.

“Back to the question then.” Satoru links his hands and props his chin on it. Itadori’s gaze doesn’t leave his mouth. “Why’d your uncle come pick you up?”

Itadori’s well within his rights to tell Satoru to fuck off—diplomatically, maybe, since they’re teacher and student, but the sentiment would be the same. Even Satoru’s closest friends aren’t shy about firmly and often physically steering his nose out of their business.

But Itadori answers: “My parents left town pretty suddenly, and I’d forgotten my phone at home. They couldn’t tell me to go to Sukuna’s place instead. So he came here.”

Satoru hums. “I’d say you’re old enough to stay home alone. Don’t tell me you’re the sort to cause trouble with a bit of freedom.”

“No?” Itadori looks genuinely confused. “I mean, I don’t think so. I don’t mind staying alone either, but my dad worries, so…”

“So you’re being a considerate son,” Satoru finishes in his own words. “What a good boy.”

Itadori’s breath catches audibly. His eyes are darker now, giving an animal edge to his face. It’s an interesting expression, and it makes him look a bit more like his uncle.

Satoru gives him a moment.

Then— “He seems like an interesting man to live with, your uncle.”

Itadori blinks. A frown takes over his face, even though his eyes stay tellingly dark. “You could say that. Gojou-sensei, you aren’t…?”

Satoru waits, but Itadori doesn’t complete the question, just stares at Satoru like he’s trying to telepathically pour the rest of the words into his head. Unfortunately, Satoru isn’t fluent in awkward teenager.

“Go on,” Satoru prods.

Itadori grimaces, and it shows in his voice when he asks, “You’re not, like, into Sukuna, are you?”

Satoru’s dumbfounded for a moment. Then he’s stifling laughter, not all that successfully. Itadori’s expression shifts from disgusted discomfort to just plain embarrassment, but even through that, he stares at Satoru—his mouth and his eyes.

Brave boy.

“Sorry,” Satoru says, not meaning it one whit. He’s loving this. “Reasonable assumption on your part, really. But don’t worry, your uncle’s safe from me.”

Itadori seems to relax a little. “It’s more the other way around.”

“Oh?” Satoru asks, intrigued. “Is he trouble?”

Itadori squints at him. “Sensei, you sound way too excited about that.”

“I did say I’m curious! I can promise not to hit on him, if that’ll put you at ease.” Satoru holds out his hand invitingly. “Gentleman’s agreement.”

Itadori stares at the hand for a full second.

Then he slowly, warily takes it.

It’s not a small hand; Itadori’s not a small boy. Satoru is bigger though, and his hand envelops Itadori’s, the tips of his index and middle fingers coming to a gentle rest against Itadori’s pulse. His hand is shockingly rough, with hard calluses brushing Satoru’s skin.

He squeezes gently.

Itadori’s blush hasn’t faded fully since Satoru called him a good boy, but now, it flares, splattering gracelessly across his face. It goes shockingly well with his hair.

Lines are being crossed. Satoru feels it keenly, the change in the air.

He drags his hand out of Itadori’s, slower and more delicate than he needs to. His fingers trail from Itadori’s racing pulse to the trembling tips of his fingers, and even after Satoru’s leaned back again, folding his hands demurely in his lap, Itadori’s hand hovers in the air over the table for a good few seconds before dropping limply to the surface.

Satoru winks at him. “Now spill.”

Itadori blinks slowly. Satoru can practically see his brain rebooting.

“What was the question again?” Itadori asks.

Sukuita

Movement wakes him, eons before the touch.

A hand settles on his hip, searing even through the cloth. It’s limp, flopping there in a decent mimicry of a sleep-heavy limb. Sukuna knows better.

Wasn’t always like this. The kid was a kid once. More of a kid. Small, helpless, useless. A piece of shit from the start though. The first time Jin handed him to Sukuna, practically forcing his little bundle of snotty joy into his hands, the little fucker had thrown up on his face.

Jin laughed, the bastard. He didn’t mean to, that much was clear from the stifled snorts and painfully red face. Kenjaku had no such compunctions, chortling like the same brat hadn’t damn near killed them on his way out of their cunt.

Kaori had the sense to take the baby away before Sukuna could toss him out a window. The most sensible of the lot, and of course she’s the one who went and died. Sukuna’s been seeing a lot more of the kid since then. Even more since Wasuke followed suit.

Shit luck to be born into a family like this. He used to think the brat didn’t fit in, with his big baby eyes and bleeding heart. Worse than his father. Turns out he’s weirder too, but Sukuna blames Kenjaku for that.

Blood will always out.

That’s no excuse for this—the hand sliding down to his stomach, the body pressing against his back. The kid’s warm.

He’s not, usually. That body runs cold. Sukuna noticed it the first time when the kid was tiny, barely the length of his forearm. A frail mass of fabric and fluff nestled against his chest, leeching off his body heat. Not that it took much to warm that tiny thing.

’Course, then the kid woke up and promptly latched on to a nipple because he was even dumber then, and when Sukuna pried him off while yelling for Kenjaku, he’d been treated to a deranged shriek that damn near ruptured his ear drums.

Nothing much has changed over the years. The brat went from screaming at him to biting him to scowling at him to punching him to trying to fucking kill him. Wildcat, through and through. The only part of him Sukuna’s ever bothered to nurture.

It’s different when he’s asleep. The baby soaking in his warmth. The toddler sprawled on his chest. The boy curled up in his lap.

Small and weak and utterly unbothered about it.

How the fuck do you live like that, trust like that?

At least this is better. It’s not trust breathing into his nape and groping his stomach. It’s just human filth.

They’re testing touches, slow enough and idle enough that the brat probably thinks they’d pass as sleepy ministrations.

Idiot.

Nobody would miss the intent behind this. It’s scorching.

If someone held him at gunpoint and forced him to admit the one thing he has in common with his brother’s spawn, it wouldn’t be the hair or the blood or the killing rage—it’d be this, the hunger.

Sukuna can tell the exact moment the brat decides he’s actually asleep. His palm presses flat against Sukuna’s stomach, skin to skin. That’s on him for sleeping shirtless despite his impromptu bedmate, but like hell is he changing his habits just because this little creep wants to molest him in his sleep. Not like clothes would stop him anyway.

Sukuna continues to feign sleep, his breathing steady and just a little uneven—a rhythm he memorized and learned to mimic for situations a lot more dire than the badly planned porno playing out right now.

The kid’s patient. Or just a fucking virgin. Sukuna can’t imagine why else he’d spent minutes just touching his stomach, that warm palm rubbing lazy circles over his abs. Sometimes, it presses down, denting the soft layer of fat on his belly to dig into the muscle underneath. It’s a struggle not to flex then. A few muscles jump, entirely involuntary, but the brat just breathes heavier and wetter, squirming closer to Sukuna.

There’s another hand between their bodies—an entire arm, the line of it doing nothing to hide what it’s touching. It’s not moving, yet, and Sukuna still hasn’t figured out whether it’s there just for the pressure or if the stupid shit actually thinks that not digging his boner into Sukuna’s back means something.

Some line to not cross. Some precious moral to cling to.

Sukuna wouldn’t put it past him, but the brazen bullshit the other day told a different story. It sure wasn’t guilt or even shame that darkened the brat’s eyes when Sukuna tore him off his back and pinned him by the throat.

[princess-of-the-corner]

A simple example of a speech impediment is Rotacism.

where pronouncing some phonemes/letters is difficult (usually R) I myself have rotacism and I can't pronounce the letters R,L,S and C correctly.

Based on this, sometimes don't understand what i said (Hey blothel, wourd you pass me the tomato cauce?)

Also sometimes there is a complex in children with speech impediments causing them to lower their voice so that if they make a mistake, it is only audible to them. This one in particular is what I think Juleka is wearing.

Oh yeah see I get that like. I was the kid with the r/w fuckery like that. And it was fixed with speech therapy classes, not me 'gaining confidence'.

And like. The thing with Juleka:

In the English Dub, her lines are just kinda quiet because she's shy. Though her lines do get more audible when she's in places she's comfortable.

In the French Dub though, her lines are completely uninteligable. And TA thinks that the English Dub changing her to be heard 'ruins the joke'.

[pissfizz]

its the crossdressing manga you mentioned earlier right?? it sounds neat!!!!!

and uwaghh i wish you luck with your assignment!!!!! if you need any help with it i can try to help you mimi ^^

ITS LITERALLY SO GOOD…. I love secret identities I love gender fuckery I love gay shit this manga was literally made to appeal to me I totally recommend it is the only manga I have ever read where I have audibly laughed out loud multiple times over the course of reading its so fucking funny and the characters and relationships are all so great it’s called crossplay love otaku x punk and I need all my friends to read it HSHDJDJDJ

and THANK YOU :(( I will keep that in mind hshdhdjdjs I appreciate it sm ❤️❤️

[izzy-b-hands]

Day Three: Amends or Shore Leave

My brain and the prompts for this day were not cooperating, absolutely refused to be written, so I did my best with my fourth version here for Amends. Fairly short as a result, but, written!

Izzy is sentimental and regretful, and Stede misses Arthur. Enter a n opportunity to do something nice for Stede, to try and say an additional 'sorry.'

Ed's just enjoying his boyfriends being sweet to and on each other. Also, he finally gets to meet Arthur, as does anyone else who wants to!

---

"I told him it's water under the bridge," Stede gasps, exasperated. "What has he done?"

"Nothing ridiculous."

"He's the one who suggested more fireworks for fuckeries, so you'll forgive me if I don't believe you."

Ed shrugs. "Then don't believe me. But you'll like it, and it helps him feel like he's making amends more."

"But he doesn't need to!"

"I tried telling him as much. He's stubborn."

There's hide nor hair of Izzy until nearly the end of the day, when they pull into port-

"Not here," Stede strides down the deck, calling after Ed. "Ed, everyone here thinks I'm dead-"

"This is a little side dock, privately owned," Ed says soothingly. "No one knows we're here except them."

"And who is them, exactly? And why are we trusting them?"

"They're Doug's parents. From what you've told us of Doug, they seemed trustworthy enough."

Stede pauses mid-step. "Oh. I didn't know they had any property like this."

"A recent acquisition, a gift from Mary," Ed smiles. "Or so the letter from her and Doug said."

"What on earth have you and Izzy done to involve all of them?"

"You know how you keep bringing up Arthur?"

Stede nods. "Silly, but he was dear to me."

"Thought he was a horse?"

It takes a moment. "Ed."

"Sorry, I'm supposed to be stalling for time," Ed chuckles. "But I think we have your surprise ready!"

On the shore, tied to an impromptu post, stands Arthur.

"Izzy really did most of it. Reached out to Mary and Doug, to Doug's parents after that, and then paid to have him transported out this way," Ed continues. "But we both wrote the letters together, and I tossed in some coin as well."

"All so I could see him again?" Stede asks softly.

"He's getting older, and Iz thought you might like a last chance to see him. Just in case we don't make it back this way before-"

Stede nods. "Right. Where is he? I should thank him."

"You know he's still not quite so confident in the more...sentimental moments, like this," Ed says. "Think he's afraid the crew will take the piss constantly if he cries, or shows any-"

"They might for a day, but it's not meant in any ill will," Stede interrupts. "Is he in his room?"

"Has been since we got within eyeshot of shore. But go see Arthur first. Izzy would prefer it, and our time is slightly limited for your safety. No one should know we're here, and I'm fairly confident in that, but..."

"Why take risks if we don't need to. This is something of a risk, stopping here at all. And he really did, for me-"

"Go see your horse," Ed pats his back. "And you can see Iz after."

The time passes quickly. Doug's parents are lovely, Arthur is slower but still kind and sweet, and seemingly happy to see him again.

They finally sail off after the sun has set, and everyone else has gotten a chance to meet Arthur if they wanted.

And Izzy hasn't left his room once.

"Izzy?" Stede knocks on the door to his room. He keeps it only for these moments of being overwhelmed or uncertain, where he tells them he fears burdening them with whatever he has on his mind.

He says it's easier to be alone then, but Stede can't help but always want to knock right away to check on him.

"Yeah?" is the scraggly reply. He's been crying, and it's audible enough to have been going on for awhile.

"Can I come in? Or would you come back to our usual room?"

The door opens, and Izzy drops back onto his bed as Stede walks in. "All went well, Ed says."

"Ed is correct," Stede sits beside him. "Thank you. I hadn't thought of how Arthur getting on in years, and if you hadn't done this...probably wouldn't have gotten a chance to say goodbye, even if he lives a decent bit of time after this. I'm grateful for that."

"Fang didn't really get to say goodbye," Izzy wipes a tear away. "To his dog, and it's always bothered me. It wouldn't have been done at the time, with the way-"

"Things were, at the time."

"Right. But it still should have been. You know, my mum had me put down any animals that had outlived their use to her. Silly, but it always killed me that I was the last one to say goodbye to them, only to be the one to make the killing blow."

"I don't think that's silly," Stede tentatively wraps an arm around him, holding tighter when Izzy melts against him. "It would bother me too. Shame you didn't get to meet Arthur now, actually."

"I did," Izzy smiles weakly. "A few weeks back, when you sent myself and some of the others out to scout around-"

"You were really going all the way back here to finish arranging things," Stede interjects. "I shouldn't be surprised."

"I asked to see him off," Izzy continues. "Arthur, that is. He's older, figured he might not want to travel or be up to it. I'm something of an old nag myself; who knows how much longer I'll be able to sail and-"

"You are not that old."

"I'm old enough," Izzy sighs, but not unhappily. "He does have kind eyes."

"He does! Mary never got it, but he does!" Stede says. "The crew enjoyed meeting him too. Even got a bit weepy, some of them. I think more of us have left behind pets than we know."

"Frenchie won't go for a ship cat."

"What if it was a Main Coon? They're as close to a dog as a cat can get, or so I'm told."

"You have to convince him, not me," Izzy smiles. "Shall we head into bed?"

"Ed's in there waiting for us. Said we can't complain if he's taking up all the bed, because we weren't in there to stop him."

"He's absolutely right."

"He is."

[meetthesoldier]

hi sorry this is outta nowhere but i would love to hear ur thoughts on harry (phone

SORRY ANON I LEGIT FORGOT ABT THIS ASK and im too lazy to draw her fr so heres some fanart i drew of her dying in a glue trap

this time i have a bit more thoughts on her as an actual character so ill start w that before the headcanon dump ... also, throughout this post ill be referring to her w she/her pronouns because of a personal headcanon im VERY attached to. all i ask is any rbs or further questions abt my specific vision of her use those same pronouns... in others posts i do not care obviously. also, this post is specifically abt her in the dsaf universe since shes far more substantial there.

firstly, i should say i ADORE harry. she is one of my biggest comfort characters in a series where almost everybody is one for me. so when i give any criticisms, know its out of love and a wish for some more expansive writing rather than any malice. being critical of media you love is important, etc etc.

my biggest issues with her character really boils down to the lack of acknowledgement abt her being physically disabled. she mentions having a "bad leg" during 3, but its ONLY mentioned that one time, during (i believe) missable dialogue. i understand her not using, like, mobility aids for it since it may be difficult to find suitable stock images (+ all the phonies in that game use the same photos for their bodies, and its totally possible its not something she feels she needs), but it probably shouldve been mentioned or expanded upon more.

i dont believe were given any explanation on how her leg ended up the way it is, or in what way it is. we dont know if she was born with her disability or aquired it later. we dont know if its paralyzed, we dont know if its because of a muscular dystrophy, or anything else. i just wish we were given more info, bcus as it is, it is REALLY easy to look over in favor of, say, her ptsd.

speaking of which, i have some mixed feelings on how her ptsd is portrayed. on one hand, the joke in the restaurant reviews abt her having flashbacks and a subsequent panic attack feels very distasteful, though thankfully this is (i believe) the only instance of this kind of joke at her expense. im glad elsewise it isnt some huge , controlling part of her character - however, again, it IS missable. while one can assume she has it when she discusses her past, i dont believe its explicitly stated UNTIL that review.

tldr; her disability feels poorly handled, mostly from lack of expansion and discussion.

thankfully, though, she is elsewise a very enjoyable character; shes got some really good and funny dialogue, the exposition we get from her about the original managers is really fucking good, and i really wish we heard more abt her experience working with rebecca (and presumably roger)... again, her biggest issues are just not having as much of a spotlight on her as she couldve, but considering the employees arent really the main focus of the game that may be fine actually...

(as an aside, i think about this post every day and cry audibly.)

thus ends the longform musings, onto the silly headcanons;

standard fare queer headcanon dump: trans woman + demisexual lesbian. also, polyamorous. fuck yeah baby steak (ref)

was in a queerplatonic relationship with joe while he was alive, and a romantic one with both tango/terrence (who has some gender fuckery going on as well) and rebecca because i am not immune to homemade lesbianism.

has ptsd in canon, but im adding a "c" in front of that cause aint no way she lived through all of her coworkers (and presumably FRIENDS) dying in such horrific ways and was only affected in the short-term.

autistic! specifically also has the thing i do where i need the time to be a multiple of 5 before i can start doing anything. also has generalized anxiety i think, with a tendency to catastrophize and compensates by insisting to herself everything is toootally fine. definitely NOT going to have a breakdown rn because shes not totally sure that that vending machine is 100% not going to fall on her specifically

probably didnt have many friends as a kid (L) so now she overcompensates by trying to be as charming and polite as possible. wether or not this works in her favor or makes her seem pretentious is a coinflip. (its certainly working on me though!)

has a real soft spot for random niche animals. probably a big salamander and gecko girl. her favorite is the marbled salamander because its cute as hell

slightly off topic everyday i think of how fucking horrific it mustve been for joe to come into work one morning and his best friend just has a phone for a head and extreme memory issues now . literally what the fuck. thats so fucked up

to do a tonal 180... if she was a pokemon trainer shed have a herdier or stoutland as a sort of service dog for walking shorter-medium distances when she rlly doesnt feel like whipping out the cane :.-)

shes so pale its actually ridiculous. bro looks like she hasnt seen the sun in 5 years ... jake pokes a bit of fun for it sometimes

thanks for asking, anon! i love getting excuses to talk about dsaf. i have a lot of thoughts, you know... dont ever friend me on discord my ass will randomly drop either the goofiest or angstiest headcanons at random intervals and i have no real control over whichor when it will be

[talentforlying]

"Hey baby, are you the first card in the tarot deck because you got me actin' like a fool." Mulder strikes a pose, before spinning around and trying another pick up line.

"What's up, hot stuff? Can you feel the magic? I'm about to cast a spell on you." Another pose. This time he finds a chair near John to lean against. Wait are those sunglasses?

"Did you know that Venus is in conjunction with Uranus?" Mulder stop-

' oh christ. '

he's trying not to give mulder the satisfaction of a laugh. he's doing his bloody best, here. but exasperation and the dread of knowing this will go on for as long as mulder has air to draw breath are rapidly giving ground under the onslaught, and his lips are twitching behind the protective guard of his hand.

' really. seriously. whole bleedin' world of beatles-flavored pick-up lines available an' you go with the magic. could i pay you t'shut up? at least take yer shirt off f'you're gonna give us a show. ' his smile is all but audible, crinkling the corners of his eyes and tugging on every syllable. stupid, this is stupid. he's always been soft for stupid. one of the files he's been slogging through becomes handy ammunition, balled up and lobbed with shocking accuracy to bounce off mulder's chest. ' eugh! sunglasses indoors, you pillock. '

his revenge is timed out carefully, planned without a hint of mischief on his face: he hooks the tip of his shoe around the nearest leg of the chair mulder's leaning on and yanks it askew, hopping out of his seat to catch mulder around the waist before he can fall — only to promptly step on the back of his heel and make sure he falls. the resulting dip is entirely too graceful for a bit of spur-of-the-moment fuckery, and constantine is smirking as he swipes the sunglasses, holding them up to his face and peering down at mulder through the lenses.

' did it 'urt when you fell from your alien spaceship? ' head tilted to the side, innocent, almost genuinely concerned. then his supporting hand releases and: WHOOMF. dropped to the carpet. should be okay, though — mulder's used to falling for him by now. constantine sits back on the nearest desk, the very picture of an unconcerned bystander, twirling his prize between his fingers and snickering. ' not as much as that, i 'spect. '

@spookyagentfmulder

[a-mag-a-day]

MAG 47 - apple cutting and going to bed!

Helen sounds so different here.

"Statement of Helen Richardson, regarding a new door in the house she was selling." - I wonder at what point the door thing for Michael was fully fleshed out. Because in MAG 27 it was presumable Michael playing with the door and lock of Mr. MacKenzie, but not summoning a door itself? I think Michael can manifest without necessarily walking through doors, it does it in this episode and also in MAG 78. So was this planned from the start or did this idea get narrowed down only now in S2. I remember a bit of a Q&A or commentary where Alex (? I think) said that he thought Michael should get a "bigger" role after S1.

Helen sounds so distressed…

5:40 "but he’d already walked past me and into the house", after "past me" there's a weird… chime-like sound in the background?

"I think I might have wanted just to check the time. I had no idea how long I’d been in there. When I opened the phone, all that was on the screen was another picture of the corridor, just like the paintings on the walls." - This sounds so much like lucid dreaming. For this you have to recognize that you are asleep. Once you've gained control over your actions there are things you can do to make sure it's a dream. One of them is checking the time. (I managed that once, it was 3 strawberries o'clock xD There were literally 3 pixel art strawberries on my wrist watch.) And there's another coincidentally similar thing to Michael Longfingers, you can also take a look at your hands. Mine looked like I had many loooong fingers with a wavy structure.

"Because the left turn, that would have led back towards the door, wasn’t, it wasn’t there anymore. It was another long corridor, with paths off to the right." - I wonder if Jon is having flashbacks here to his exploration of the tunnels while Leitner was moving around the passages.

"Finally, after the latest bout of nightmares, I decided to come to you and tell you my story." - Elias' doing? He did say he was heavily involved to get Helen to make a statement. Does his memory insertion thing also work long distance?

HELEN "You believe me, then?" JON "I… yes. Yes, I think I do." - Poor Jon. He himself is conflicted about what he has experienced and paranoid to no end. And then in comes someone with a similar experience and he can sympathize with Helen. And Helen is so relieved, that Jon believes her (like, with the thing of the Spiral being not trusting your own senses anymore). And then… On his watch, in front of his eyes, she gets eaten by a door. Just like that childhood bully. Because of him. (Of course, I know it's not actually because of him but I guess that is what he's thinking.)

The sound of this door is very different from the non-spooky Archives doors.

Michael's interference with the tape is already audible when Sasha talks to Jon. Heh, eavesdropping^^ Also interesting, we can again hear people talking in the background when the door to Jon's office is open.

God, Michael has such a mind-fuck-y voice xD Perfect VA!

MICHAEL "That is a real name." - The Distortion is hilarious! XD

MICHAEL "Does your hand in any way own your stomach?" - More mind-fuckery! But actually, knowing what we later learn about the Distortion, this makes perfectly sense!

MICHAEL "I intervened, to save you before. I’m interested in what happens next." - Without Michael they would have never known how to fight the worms.

MICHAEL "I’m normally neutral, yes." [Bullshit, but carry on] "But the loss of this place would have unbalanced the struggle too early. I’m keen to see how it progresses." JON "You make it sound like there’s a… war." - In S5 we find out that the Distortion had its suspicions about the Eyepocalypse. So Michael's actually trying to help the Eye to "win" the race against the other rituals. "Win" because there was never any threat that they would come in first.

God, when I first heard this scene, I was so excited! A bigger scheme going on? A war of supernatural forces perhaps?! Well, count me in! On my first listen naturally I had no idea what Michael was talking about, it didn't make any sense! And now everything Michael's saying is totally plausible! I think this is one of the best moments in TMA and one that is extremely worth revisiting.

Lots of good setup in this one yeah!

[mywifeleftme]

53: Camp Lo // Uptown Saturday Night

Uptown Saturday Night Camp Lo 1997, Profile

There’s an old Donald Glover bit about how people who rave about ‘80s hip-hop need to go back and actually listen to it, because it’s mostly just guys saying shit like, (in a Melle Mel candence) “Well I went to the hat store todayyyy / and I got myself a hat / ha HA!” I think of ‘80s rap as equivalent to ‘50s rock: it’s raw and exciting stuff, but for the modern listener it’s bound to feel a little primitive because you’re hearing a genre before its techniques and technology have fully matured. And that makes the ‘90s hip-hop’s equivalent of rock’s ‘60s, the first decade when artists had a fixed foundation to build upon, and the genre exploded into a psychedelic variety of styles that has continued to expand to this day.

Camp Lo had as idiosyncratic and unprecedented a sound on their debut Uptown Saturday Night as Wu-Tang Clan, OutKast, Digable Planets, or the Beastie Boys did. Released in a year when Juicy Couture velour defined urban style, Camp Lo’s emcees were duded up like Blaxploitation-era pimps, spitting a thieves’ argot studded with references spanning 70 years of New York culture. Their beats, largely provided by DJ Ski, were sparkling boom bap that pulled as much from Roy Ayers as James Brown. According to Ski, Geechi Suede and Sonny Cheeba talked to each other in the same impenetrable slang they rapped in, bringing to mind the phenomenon of twin language:

Check the queen bee, Lady Ree digging Grace Check the place 3 o’clock. Shot? No, we ain’t Fret and cock, bring it in the paint? No such thing Flash the dynamite, sing my superfly to the Cleopatra in the casino with gold sugar Dig my harlequin and drench you in my Donald Goines (from “Coolie High”)

Short of discovering some remote enclave in the Bronx where people talk like this, it’s safe to assume Suede and Cheeba had developed a mutually-reinforcing linguistic bond, where (to pull a quote from that twin language story) “words are invented and abbreviated or restricted codes are used because full explanations are redundant.” Though there were a few emcees with more variable flows, nobody in the game sounded slicker than Camp Lo.

As fly as the rhymes are, Uptown Saturday Night is a producer’s showcase. Though he doesn’t get touted as frequently as Pete Rock, DJ Premier, or Large Professor, DJ Ski is as great a producer as New York has ever produced. Dusty literary journal The Kenyon Review, of all places, published a great (and uncredited?) piece on Ski’s beats for Camp Lo a few years back that’s worth reading. Here’s the writer on Uptown closer “Sparkle (Mr. Midnight Mix)”:

“Appearing at a time when boom bap beats were at their peak, the song has no drums, but somehow still has a very high nod factor. Extremely low in the mix are what sound like the original drums, so low that they might only be audible because of headphone bleed in the vocal track. But it is really the flow of Geechi Suede and Sonny Cheeba that retains the rhythm of the original, heavily swung drums. The vocals thus carry a ghost rhythm propelling the track forward, even as the vibes and fluid, filtered bass and piano lines lazily rise and fall, cresting here, submerged there.”

Great shit. Uptown covers a lot of stylistic ground, though high-rolling party tunes are the order of the day, like “Luchini (This is It)” with an irresistible trumpet loop launching itself off a thwacking snare hit. Nearly every beat on the record is indelible, from the kaiju-sized horns of “Krystal Karrington” to the cooing, vibe-chilled “Coolie High” (a preview of Ski’s 2010s work on Curren$y’s classic Pilot Talk trilogy). And, on the warped Twilight Zone-sampling “Negro League,” Ski even seems to have an ear on the off-kilter underground sound El-P was creating with Company Flow.

Various forms of fuckery on the part of Camp Lo’s label conspired to prevent the band from following up on Uptown Saturday Night till 2002, and by then it was too late to recapture their former momentum. They’ve had sparks of inspiration in the decades since, but we’ll never know whether the magic of their debut would’ve been reproducible under better circumstances. Regardless, Uptown Saturday Night has a place among the greatest records of rap’s first golden decade.

53/365

[bylightofdawn]

WOOF.

All that talk about bodice rippers had me picking up a book containing Nora Robert’s first book Irish Thoroughbred.

I have a soft spot for romance horse books because I was a horse girlie. I’ve read her much later True Betrayals book which was written in the 90’s but had never read this book or much of her earlier work.

And lawd y’all. This is ROUGH. And is like…passable fanfic levels of writing with the protagonist being this super feisty red head Irish horse whisperer and like 30 pages in after a couple of scenes of them bickering and having ZERO HINT of sexual attraction…the male lead straight up kisses her and I’ve office reached a point in my life where I’m super fucking not alright with him putting hands on a woman and kissing here without any kind of consent. Or yanno any indication she doesn’t hate his guts. Also? His newly hired EMPLOYEE to boot.

The 80’s are fucking WILD. I’m 30 pages in and the amount of kiss kiss slap slap fuckery going on has launched me out of the entire book.

It’s wild to see how she improved an author in like a decade of writing. But woof I dunno if I can make it through this book. I legit audibly said “What the FUCK” and slammed it closed. Yes, I get it’s fiction and no real SA is happening here but it still makes me super uncomfy reading it even in a fictional setting.

I want to say I’ve outgrown the romance genre but that’s a blatant lie. I just don’t think I’ll be reading any Harlequin novels from before 1990 any time soon.