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#thirty tigers
dustedmagazine · 6 months
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Sarah Shook and the Disarmers — Revelations (Abeyance/Thirty Tigers)
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Photo by Brett Villena
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“I built my life on the edge of a knife when nobody believed that I could,” rasps River Shook, the tough but tender leader of this kicking cowpunk band. The song is “You Don’t Get to Tell Me How to Feel,” a boot-stomping statement of purpose, as the guitars flare,  the drums bolt upright like a scared horse, and Shook makes the case for constructing their own narrative in no uncertain terms. 
Shook came of age in Bible belt America, forbidden as a child from any contact with secular music.  Still these things have a way of back-ending.  The artist learned the piano, then the guitar, then formed a series of bands under their birthname Sarah Shook; they switched to River a few years ago as a personal identifier but continue to record under the old name.  Their music, however, remains sharp and unsentimental, punk in energy, country in its twang and sway.  Move over Beyoncé, you’re not the only one pushing out the boundaries of what Americana can represent. 
And so, Shook delivers gender inclusive busted romances in old-school juke joint style. Pedal steel flies through the jangling twang of “Backsliders” while an in-the-pocket country band keeps two-stepping time.  There’s a cheating partner and a wounded one, just like in all the old songs, but the trick is neither one is a dude.  “I’m a real piece of shit and you’re a vixen in a dress/I thought we was moving on/I was wrong I guess,” Shook cracks, out of the corner of their mouth, like Johnny Cash but different. 
The very real pleasure of this collection of songs comes in how the love of tradition collides with raucous rule-breaking energy.  You’ve got your outlaw country, sure, but did any of those guys write a song called “Motherfucker” and carry it off?  Shook does.   
Not every song stomps.  Some are plaintive and yearning, like the lovely “Jane Doe,” others full of anthemic slow-rocking swirl like “Nightingale.”  But all insist on direct emotional engagement and brutal honesty and acceptance of a very specific point of view.  River Shook is definitely not your grandma’s idea of a country powerhouse, but they are one all the same.   
Jennifer Kelly
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sinceileftyoublog · 10 months
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Corinne Bailey Rae Album Review: Black Rainbows
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(Thirty Tigers)
BY JORDAN MAINZER
There's very little in the back catalog of English R&B singer-songwriter Corinne Bailey Rae that would prepare you for Black Rainbows. While over her previous three albums, Bailey Rae increasingly, but gradually experimented, veering ever so slightly from the gentle neo soul she became known for, her fourth and best album is an urgent aesthetic about-face. Combining the punk influences from her teenage years with a newfound exploration of Afrofuturist jazz and electronica, Black Rainbows is inspired by a Theaster Gates exhibit Bailey Rae saw at the Stony Island Arts Bank. There, she saw images of a Black history that wasn't focused solely on oppression and trauma, nor just excellence and joy, but a journey of overcoming. "We long to arc our arm through history / To unpick every thread," she sings on album opener "A Spell, A Prayer", a song that starts with silence but builds up with slinky bass, pulsating drums, feedback squalls, shimmers, and layered vocal harmonies, a statement of purpose from a sonic collective.
Black Rainbows is effective because of its mix of inspirations, some direct and others broad, and how they yield sonic variety. The album's lead singles are prime examples of the former. The cheerleader chanting pop punk of "New York Transit Queen" is a tribute to Audrey Smaltz, the first Black Miss New York Transit, whose vibrant aura is represented by explosive guitars and drum fills. In contrast is stark piano ballad "Peach Velvet Sky", where Bailey Rae's vocal performance inhabits the story of Harriet Jacobs as per her autobiography Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl. Among all the songs on the album, it sounds closest to something Bailey Rae would have sung two decades ago. (Bailey Rae did read Jacobs' book as a child.) But her reconnection with the story at the Stony Island Arts Bank is exemplary of Bailey Rae's overall deeper dive into Black stories.
Elsewhere on Black Rainbows, Bailey Rae generally but critically examines the past and imagines a better future. The pummeling post-punk of "Erasure" laments the effacement of Black contributions to cultural history, her voice effectively breaking out from behind obscuring noise. On the beatific "Earthlings", she dares to ask, "Could we find work and time to dance?" and "Can't we take the lessons that we've learned / And make a new Utopia?", finding radical beauty in electric, echoing guitar strums and birdsong. The progressive "He Will Follow You With His Eyes" sees psychedelic bossanova give way to skittering electronica as Bailey Rae proclaims love for an authentic, beautiful self. "I'll be smouldering in my plum red lipstick / My black hair kinking / My black skin gleaming," she repeats over a beat, mantra-like.
Ultimately, Black Rainbows is an album about love, for oneself and one's community, for Black art and stories, for romantic partners and friends. Bailey Rae experiments with divergent vocal deliveries and musical genres to mirror the complexity and vastness of her artistic world, subdued coos to passionate shouts, rap, thumping techno, and acid house to soulful dance and jazz. She makes a masterwork out of the act of exploration, inward and outward.
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todayisafridaynight · 6 months
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I mean, I like Daigo and Y3 but it's undeniable that a lot of the reason of MineDai being small is cuz Mine, Daigo and Y3 are generally unliked? Not like hated but like just not liked down upon the bigger side of the fandom. Add to that that the yaoi girlies, like us, are just like a fraction of the fandom... well, not exactly big shit to have.
Personally... I'm kinda glad Mine is overlooked cuz... dear fucking god the radioactive waste he could create if he was popular. Mind you, I'm not exactly a Mine fan but I know he would be... not the best for larger audiences.
minedai really is just for us yaoi girlies you're so right .....
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monkeyssalad-blog · 20 days
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1931 illustration by Laurence East
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1931 illustration by Laurence East by totallymystified Via Flickr: For the story Pip And The Tiger by Horace Annesley Vachell. From the Help Yourself Annual.
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yesterday i did one of these with midnights for the VMAs but ttpd was the album that actually got any awards yesterday so uh watt kids as songs from taylor swift's tortured poets department
fortnight - cairo and riley
the tortured poets department - cairo and riley
my boy only breaks his favorite toys - cairo and riley
down bad - kate
so long, london - cairo
but daddy, i love him - annleigh kind of
fresh out the slammer - mattie (i couldn't help it)
florida!!! - chess and farrah
guilty as sin? - annleigh
who's afraid of little old me? - riley
i can fix him (no really i can) - kate but also cairo
loml - kate and annleigh
i can do it with a broken heart - annleigh
the smallest man who ever lived - cairo about riley
the alchemy - kateva
clara bow - chess but also eva but also kate
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fushitoru · 6 days
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i can't stop looking at his d—d—d—d—FACE!
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pairings ⸺ (SEPERATE) boy next door!gojo x reader, wrestler!toji x reader, gym trainer!sukuna x reader, pizza delivery boy!choso x reader, husband's boss!nanami x reader, perv on train!geto x reader
summary ⸺ jjk men as overused p0rn/h3ntai plots! inspired by this awesome post by the talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, spectacular @/osamucide! pls check it out and the rest of his work :3
warnings ⸺ SMUT (mdni), consent is pre-established in all scenarios (but dub con just in case), everyone is of age (or older), exhibitionism, infidelity in nanami’s, pussy drunk men lol, not edited (as always), cowgirl, missionary, creampies, VERY public sex in toji’s, art by 3-aem, lmk if I’ve missed anything!
a/n lolll i'm ngl this was so fun to write. some of these scenarios are so funnny hELP. this one is also for some of the anons who are so obsessed w choso and sukuna in bridgerton au. wrote them for you 🫡 choso’s is my fav hehe
general masterlist
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SUKUNA RYOMEN ⸺ HOTTIE'S PERSONAL TRAINER HAS A VERY HANDS ON APPROACH!
“Brat!” Sukuna’s voice cuts through the air like a whip. “Watch your back. You’re supposed to be hinging your hips back, not whatever lazy shit you were doing.”
He steps around to your side, the heavy thud of his boots on the gym floor adding to the oppressive weight of his presence. Squatting down, he sets his hips back in one smooth motion, demonstrating with sharp precision. “Like this. Not whatever the fuck that was.”
You glance at him, your legs trembling under you. Sweat clings to your skin, a thin sheen that feels heavy after the grueling thirty minutes with your personal trainer. Sukuna definitely takes the "tiger mom" approach, every tattoo on his body echoing the sharp, uncompromising authority in his eyes. Right now, those eyes bore into you, narrowed with impatience, his hands on his hips. His scowl is practically carved into his face—stone-hard and unmoving.
Breathing hard, you slump forward, hands gripping your knees as you gasp for air. Your heartbeat drums loudly in your ears. “Sukuna, g-give me a sec. I just—fuck—” You can barely string a sentence together between gulps of air. “I just maxed out. My legs are literally shaking.”
Sukuna clicks his tongue, shaking his head in disappointment, but his voice softens—just a little. “Fine. Catch your breath. But as you do that, let’s practice proper form.”
You nod exhaustedly, not being able to think very clearly. Wiping the sweat to prevent it from getting into your eyes, you put your legs hip width apart as Sukuna gets behind you to observe your form. You bend down, trying to sit back onto your hips as best as possible, but as soon as your ass grazes Sukuna’s crotch, you lose the form in your back in surprise. “Sorry—”
“That was wrong.” Sukuna’s voice is in your ear as he puts his hands on your hips, and you are dizzy with the contact. “Here.” Both of you squat down, Sukuna’s hard body moving right behind you, and at the lowest position, Sukuna’s thumb roves over the fat of your ass, and they leave your hips to trace up your back. “Your back should be neutral, otherwise you’re going to hurt yourself.”
“O—okay,” you breathily reply, dizzy with the way he was touching you. If you listened closely, it almost sounded as if you were whimpering. Unfortunately for you, it seemed like Sukuna was more observant than you had hoped because he was looking at you in suspicion, eyes raking up and down your figure to observe your appearance. Disheveled, chest rising rapidly, sweat dripping right in the middle of your breasts—
Sukuna, out of nowhere, grabs your hand and begins walking away. “Come with me. You’re not doing them right.”
Soon, you’re led into one of the gym’s stretching rooms—the private ones, the ones meant for Sukuna to help you after the workout. 
“Sukuna, what are we—” you breathlessly ask, but you’re quickly shushed by Sukuna as he hoists himself on the massage table.
“Come here,” he motions to his lap, and you wordlessly follow his directions, sitting directly on top of his lap, gasping as you realize there’s a bulge making contact with your pussy. “We’re going to try an alternative way of doing squats, one that involves a bit more cardio.” He pulls down his sweatpants, blushing, furious cock springing out as he pulls down your yoga pants.
Soon, you’re moaning as you slowly take in his cock, sliding down as his precum and your copious amount of slick mix and drip onto his pelvis. Your feet are on either side of his legs, making you squat every time you lower yourself down on his length.
“Fuck! You’re so tight.” He slaps your ass as you bounce yourself rapidly on his cock. “Pretended to not know how to squat just for me to put this fat cock in you, isn’t that right?”
You didn’t have the capacity to answer, just moan as his cock hits your spot. Unsatisfied with your pace, Sukuna flips you both over until your back is on the table. 
“Oh fuck yea,” Sukuna pants, hips pistoning into you rapidly, effectively fucking you into the table, and his quads are bulging in sheer strength as they clench and unclench in reflection of his pleasure. “Didn’t know my client had such a sweet pussy.”
KAMO CHOSO ⸺ SHE ORDERS BIG SAUSAGE PIZZA AND GETS HER DEEP DICK CRAVINGS FILLED! (the title is so ridiculous im crying)
“Your total’s $14.93. You’re five bucks short.” The delivery boy—an emo looking guy with hair in space buns—responds to the wad of cash and coins you had just given him. He couldn’t look any less bored than he was as he stared down impassively at you, hot, steaming pizza in one hand.
"Wait, but I ordered a small?" You ask him in confusion. "I couldn't possibly finish a large one by myself!"
He pulls out your receipt from where it was tucked into the pizza box. "Your order said a large." Upon glancing on it, you look that he was indeed correct—right next to your pizza, the size LARGE glared at you through the sheen of the reciept's paper.
"Oh," You said, dumbly, blinking in confusion. "Well, I can pay the rest in card if that's okay."
You get an impassive "I don't have a card reader."
"Oh, okay," you laugh nervously, hand going up to scratch the back of your head and fiddle with the rest of your fingers. "Okay, well," you squinted at his nametag, "Choso, let me just check the remaining cash I have. You can come inside if you'd like." 
He comes inside, dropping off the pizza you ordered on your kitchen counter as he makes his way to sit on your couch. You go to your bedroom, checking your desk drawer for any loose cash you may have stored but to no avail. Heart racing and nervous, you frantically search the upper shelf of your room, on your tiptoes as you look for your money jar, praying that there was a 5 dollar piece of cash lying around. Instead, your fingers crash against some book propped on it, tumbling down onto the floor with a large thud!
You hear footsteps coming up to your bedroom door. Choso, standing near the door. "You good?"
"Yea," you strain, still reaching up high to grasp at the jar. "I'm just trying to find somethi—”
The heat of Choso's body surrounds you as he presses closer to you, reaching up effortlessly to grab at the money jar. His groin presses against your backside, acutely aware of his breaths as he passes you the jar. 
Which is empty.
"Fuck!" you curse. You turn, looking at Choso in anxiousness, as you notice he hasn't backed away at all. "I'm sorry, but is there any alternative way to pay for the pizza? Again, I'm really really sorry for the hassle."
"You have to pay for the food in some sort of way," he says with a stony face. Your mind is racing, thinking of ways you could pay but coming up short.
As a result, you end up with your face stuffed against your pillow, the hot delivery boy plowing and drilling his cock into you. 
"Fuck, so irresponsible. Couldn't even pay for the pizza she ordered without a stranger's cock inside of her." At his dirty talk, you whimper and squeeze his pussy, Choso groaning as a result.
"What was that?" He grabs your hair and pulls your face up as his tongue traces the frame of your ear. "What were you trying to say, you cockslut?"
"'M sorry!" You squealed and babbled, eliciting little ah! ah! ah!'s as he continues bumping his cockhead against the gooey spot inside your pussy.
"Yea, you better be. Wasting my fucking time. I'm going to come inside, got it?" Choso growls as he continues pistoning his hips inside.
GETO SUGURU ⸺ ANIME GIRL GETS HER PUSSY FINGERED ON PUBLIC TRAIN!
He pulls you in for a deep kiss while rutting inside you. "Aren't you my good girl? Taking this cock for me like a good girl?" You squeal, blabbering nonsense as he fucks you into next Tuesday…
You read the smut from your favorite author on Tumblr, devouring each word while remaining stony faced as the train rocked underneath your feet. In the corner facing the doors, you made sure that you were angled in such a way that no one would be able to see the filthy things you were reading on your screen. 
However, the metro was slowing down and you looked up quickly—which was painful, considering you were so invested in the story—to make sure it wasn't your stop. As the rush of foot traffic simultaneously populated and vacated the metro, you paid no attention to the people behind you. After all, other people would be too busy on their phones to see what you were reading, right?
"You're going to take this cum, right? I'm going to breed you, my sweet, sweet girl." He laughs.  You take a moment to take in his pretty features. Long hair, beautiful face, all filled with lust for you...
You scan the words, blush evident on your face as your favorite writer has done it yet again. Adjusting, you squeezed your thighs for relief and toyed with the hem of your skirt, failing to notice the soft breaths trailing down the back of your neck just because of how enthralled and taken you were with the plot.
And then, a hand trailed up your thigh, catching you by alarm. You almost drop your phone in your rush to turn and look at the creep that was touching you, ready to beat the shit out of him. 
But when you do turn, you stop and widen your eyes. The man in front of you seems even prettier than the fictional man you were reading about, and you take him in as he rubs circles on your thigh. His sultry eyes rake down your figure, his lips pulled back in a knowing smirk. "That's some filthy shit you're reading."
Looking at him, your heart starts beating faster solely because of the promise of what his hands would do as they were currently softly stroking your thighs, getting closer and closer to going under your shirt. "I—I—uh sorry—I—"
"It's okay, pretty girl." He gives you a kiss on the side of your neck. "Continue reading it. Can you do that, baby?"
You nod, not trusting your voice. Coincidentally, you're at the part where the man helps the girl masturbate, rubbing and teasing her pussy up and down. The man behind you does the same, teasing your lips while refusing to delve inside your panties, no matter how badly you want him to do.
"That feel good?"
You whimper. "Yes—ah—it feels good. Please touch me on my pussy directly. Please."
The man behind you chuckles, and your knees buckle at how rich his voice is. You would join a cult for this man. "Since you asked so nicely, I will. Call me Suguru."
His fingers pull your panties aside and enters, soon knuckle deep inside your cunt, and as quietly as you can, you moan his name as he continues fingering you in front of all the strangers on the train. His hips press closer to your ass, and you throb even more at the huge bulge he’s sporting. He’s sloppily licking on the outside of your ear, right where you’re sensitive, and you shiver and lose yourself in the pressure even more.
The pleasure was building in you steadily and Suguru groans. “That’s right, take it all.”
You almost jump when the PA sounds. "The next stop is Shinjuku."
“That’s my stop. You have to cum before then, or you won’t be able to cum,” Suguru whispers in your ear, speeding up and hitting your g-spot with precision. There are tears forming in your eyes as you make an effort to stay quiet, especially with Suguru giving seductive kisses to your sensitive neck. 
“Fuck, you got so tight,” he groans. “Gonna cum?” He uses his thumb to rub fast circles on your clit, and you see stars. 
“I will—I will,” you cry, as the throbbing and pulsing sensation grows faster and faster until finally, you cum with a muffled cry, because Suguru has his fingers in your mouth to ensure you don’t scream out on this very, very public train.  “Squeezing my fingers so much, relax,” Suguru laughs, popping his slick-coated fingers in his mouth. “You gonna do that to my dick next?”
NANAMI KENTO ⸺ BEAUTIFUL WIFE HAS TO FUCK HER HUSBAND'S BOSS! (NTR)
“Mr. Nanami,” you scrape a hand through your hair and clear your throat. “You wanted to see me?” 
For a moment, your husband’s handsome boss eyes you down, catching on the top button of your blouse currently unbuttoned. You mainly did it because of nervousness, the heat of the room escalating with Nanami Kento’s presence. After a long bout of intimidating silence, he finally speaks. “I assume you can guess why you are here?”
You bounce your knee as you sit across from the man, and you suddenly start sweating. Of course you can guess. Your bum of a husband—the one currently under your charge—neglects to do his deliverables, choosing to take comfort in the fact that you were his higher-up to trust that he would not be getting terminated for his lack of responsibility. 
But what he doesn’t know is that you’ve been begging Nanami not to fire him, despite the propelling and clear reasons to do so. And you fear the day he finally chooses to stop listening to you. 
“Team leader, I’m going to need much more convincing. Your team has been decreasing in productivity ever since your husband joined, and it’s hindering the company,” he reminds you stoically. “I’ve seen you working overtime far too frequently to cover up for your spouse’s negligence.”
You wish time would speed up just to get this difficult conversation with. “I—I’m going to be honest, Mr. Nanami. I don’t have much warrant to continue having him on the team, but it would put my family in much…emotional conflict if this were to happen.” The said emotional conflict would really only be from your husband. You’re sure he’s going to take this as an excuse to drink himself silly, blaming you for not being able to keep him employed. Your throat dries as you finally meet eyes with your boss, silently pleading him to come up with a solution.
“I see.” Nanami crosses his arms. “I suppose there is a…favor you could do for me.”
At that, you perk up and nod your head frantically. “Of course. Anything.”
Which is why you find yourself bent over Nanami’s desk, his cock drilling inside you. He’s ripped your stockings, pulled up your miniskirt, and put your panties to the side as he moans about how sweet your pussy feels. “I’ve been waiting for this forever. Tell me, is my cock better than his?”
“It is!” you squeal. “You’re so—so big!”
Nanami moans as he ruts inside you, your walls squeezing him tight. “Darling, I c—can tell he doesn’t treat you right. You are so tight around me, pussy’s been waiting for a while for a real man.” 
You moan and curse, blabbering affirmations while his dick impales you. Even though Nanami is the one who’s owed the favor here, his hands wind their way around your body to rub at your clit, simulating you even more, making you sob. “Please don’t stop!”
“I won’t ever, sweetheart,” he pants. “I’m going to finish inside her, okay? Make sure to keep it in when you go home and greet your husband.”
FUSHIGURO TOJI ⸺ BABE GETS IMMEDIATELY DESTROYED IN NAKED WRESTLING (WITH AN AUDIENCE)
Cheers surround you as you step into the arena. You know who your opponent is—-Fushiguro Toji. Even when you looked at his pictures earlier, you knew you were doomed. No matter what angle the photographer took the photos in, his muscles seemed to be bulging, effectively spelling out the sore defeat you were about to face today.
And there he is. Him in the flesh. He’s leaning against the boxing ring’s outer borders, head tilted back lazily while his manager, Shiu, was informing him quickly (and intensely) about the rules of today.
Nothing crazy. Only fuck when all clothes are off of her.
The way his neck is tilted back, compression shirt showing off his upper physique made you weak in the knees already. Additionally, judging based off of the bulge he seemed to be sporting in his grey sweatpants, you knew you were doubly fucked.
Shiu seems to be done talking, so he steps back and takes a seat. Toji leans his head back, rolling his neck to stretch it out, and in the middle of doing so, catches your eye.
You almost drench your panties.
His eyes darken, giving you a sultry look as he cheekily winks. While his cocky demeanor was warranted (he was much stronger and bigger than you), your cheeks heated up in both arousal and irritation.
The sound of a whistle is heard as music starts to play. The stadium’s screens flashes the cocky image of Toji, who saunters in the middle of the ring, flexing his muscles to his screaming fans.
When your signature theme plays, you do the same, to no shortage of fans yourself. You can feel everyone in the stadium, especially your male fans, rove over your figure. You’re wearing a very low cut top that displays the swell of your boobs and even tighter shorts that squeeze your ass and show off the shape of your pussy. As you walk towards Toji, you can feel his heavy gaze on you as you nervously shake his hand.
“Try to last long, okay?” Toji smirks, patting your shoulder. “I’ll try to drag this out as much as I can, but it’s gonna be fuckin hard if that ass is grinding against me.”
You glare at him, but there’s not much intensity there. “Yea, yea,” you huff. “For all I know, you’ll be my personal dildo today.”
And the fucker’s smile widens. “Let the games begin.”
Soon enough, the sound of the whistle draws you towards each other, keeping each other in a lock to tackle the other down in an objective to take off layers of their clothing. Your fans cheer when you have Toji underneath you for a split second, only for female ones to become more riotous as he easily overtakes you, pins your hands down, and wrenches your shorts off of you.
“Toji is currently in the lead!” The announcer’s voice in the stadium echoes of your defeat as you flail around, now bottoms only covered by your panties. Deciding to pull out your signature move, you maneuver so your thighs surround Toji’s waist and hump your hips against his bulge. This momentarily distracts and weakens Toji, and you take full advantage of it by overtaking him and now straddling him. You quickly take off his shirt, salivating at the muscles you see. The whole stadium, in fact, can his abs and pecs glistening with sweat.
Your attention is back to Toji as he chuckles darkly. “You’re going to regret that. I was going to drag this out, princess, but I gotta fuck the brat out of you.” With that, he puts his whole body weight on you and strips you down one by one.
The arena cheers as your lace bra is uncovered, your sweat shining on the screen as your breasts are displayed. Toji then unhooks your bra, and the roars get even louder as your tits pop out. He takes a moment to grope them, your whines ignored as he pinches your nipples. “What a sensitive girl,” he coos. “Too bad she was too weak. Now she’s going through to have to take my cock.
With that, he finally unveils your glistening pussy for all eyes to see and the crowd goes wild, chanting for Toji to finish inside you. Toji flips you over so you’re on your hands and knees and pulls down his pants.
You don’t look back at the monster that’s about to enter you for the sake of your mental health, but your legs are shaking in anticipation of his cock, slick dripping down your thighs.
“Fuck.” And Toji’s slowly entering you, the humiliating plap! plap! plap! of his hips against the flesh of your ass echoing multiple strangers watch your pussy get wrecked. “The fuck this pussy’s so tight for? Thought you were a slut?”
You’re tearing up, but not fucked out enough to prevent you from snarkily replying, “You’re not turning me on, small dick.”
He did not like that very much.
Toji drills his hips into yours faster and slaps your ass multiple times consecutively. “Yea, so why is she clenching so fucking much? Why is she dripping? Just for that, I’m going to come inside of your slutty pussy.”
The crowd chants cum, cum, cum! and Toji just does that. Ropes of his cum fill you, and you drop down in exhaustion to hear Toji declared as winner.
GOJO SATORU ⸺ GIRL GETS FUCKED BY PEEPING TOM NEXT DOOR!
You sigh, extending your back and un clipping your bra, letting your tits bounce free after a long, long week of college. It was finally Friday night, and with no one in the house due to a party the rest of your family was attending, you could finally enjoy your time home on the holidays, starting with a solo session.
You clench your thighs in anticipation as you scrolled your phone, seeking an audio you could masturbate to. And you were close to finding one, until you felt eyes on you.
These eyes were nothing new. The boy next door, Gojo Satoru, has also been your crush since middle school. Even though neither of you have ever made a move, you’ve made bold moves since starting college, stripping with the blinds open to give him a show. You had kind of had a sixth sense as to when the fucker would start watching you, and it flared as you slowly dragged your hands down. Bending over and shaking your ass, you slipped your skimpy shorts down your legs, giving him a clear view of your wet pussy.
But masturbating wasn’t enough for today. None of the college frat bros could make you cum, no matter how much they boasted about their fuckin roster, and you were tired of Satoru just watching. Just seeing him work out shirtless in his lawn, sun shining his sweat to give him a golden halo, was enough to make you sick, hungry for his dick. The way he was so shy and the mannerisms he had (as a loser) let you know he had a big fucking dick.
Needless, to say, you were tired of just fantasizing and speculating about his dick. Turning around, the moonlight allowed you to see the silhouette of his wrist moving up and down his length, even if he had tried to make his best effort to darken his rooms. Putting on your best show of an angry face, you grab your phone aggressively and dial his number.
The line rings, and he picks up. “Hey,” and you can tell he’s a little breathless. “long time no see. What’s up?”
“Cut the fucking act out,” you spit. “I know you’ve been fucking watching me, perv.”
Satoru’s panic is comically obvious over the phone as he rushes his words. “Wait, wait—listen, I—I can explain.”
“On how you’re being a peeping tom?” You glare at his window. “Come over, Gojo. Then I’ll listen to your fucking explanation.”
One thing leads to another, and now you’re spread out on your childhood bed, Gojo whimpering and whining as he plows his dick into your pussy. “You feel so—so good. M’ sorry—sorry for doing that. Your pussy is too good for me to look at.”
You laugh meanly and grab his chin. “You feel sorry yet, you pervert?” And Satoru can only cry out as you yank his head. “Remember, this is the only fucking thing you’re good at. Being my glorified dildo. Got it? Now, you’re going to fill me up only after you make me cum at least two times.”
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a/n yea this was depraved….lmk what yall think tho 😭
comment and reblog I’d love to hear your thoughts! (also, requests are open heheh)
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pcnmagazine · 1 year
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JASON ISBELL AND THE 400 UNIT ANNOUNCE NEW ALBUM WEATHERVANES - OUT JUNE 9TH
Lead Track ‘Death Wish’ – LISTEN HERE GRAMMY-Award winners Jason Isbell and the 400 Unit announced today the upcoming release of their eighth album, Weathervanes, out June 9th via Southeastern Records/Thirty Tigers. Written and produced by Isbell, Weathervanes features 13 brand new tracks. ‘Death Wish’, the debut release from the collection, is available now – stream here. Weathervanes is a…
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theartofangirling · 1 year
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part 3 of the 2023 version of this post: adult books!
part 1: middle grade books | part 2: young adult books
this is a very incomplete list, as these are only books I've read and enjoyed. not all books are going to be for all readers, so I'd recommend looking up synopses and content warnings. feel free to message me with any questions about specific representation!
list of books under the cut ⬇️
yerba buena by nina lacour
if we were villains by m.l. rio
everyone in this room will someday be dead by emily r. austin
i want to be a wall by honami shirono
portrait of a thief by grace d. li
the thirty names of night by zeyn joukhadar
on earth we're briefly gorgeous by ocean vuong
love & other disasters by anita kelly
take a hint, dani brown by talia hibbert
boyfriend material by alexis hall
almost like being in love by steve kluger
the charm offensive by alison cochrun
something wild & wonderful by anita kelly
red, white & royal blue by casey mcquiston
something to talk about by meryl wilsner
honey girl by morgan rogers
one last stop by casey mcquiston
once ghosted, twice shy by alyssa cole
kiss her once for me by alison cochrun
a spindle splintered by alix e. harrow
finna by nino cipri
every heart a dooryway by seanan mcguire
the starless sea by erin morgenstern
under the whispering door by tj klune
space opera by catherynne m. valente
light from uncommon stars by ryka aoki
dead collections by isaac fellman
the city we became by n.k. jemisin
light carries on by ray nadine
an absolutely remarkable thing by hank green
feed them silence by lee mandelo
summer sons by lee mandelo
upright women wanted by sarah gailey
lavender house by lev a.c. rosen
fried green tomatoes at the whistle stop cafe by fannie flagg
the seven husbands of evelyn hugo by taylor jenkins reid
a master of djinn by p. djeli clark
witchmark by c.l. polk
a marvellous light by freya marske
a restless truth by freya marske
when women were dragons by kelly barnhill
plain bad heroines by emily m. danforth
a lady for a duke by alexis hall
infamous by lex croucher
passing strange by ellen klages
even though i knew the end by c.l. polk
the chosen and the beautiful by nghi vo
whiskey when we're dry by john larison
wake of vultures by lila bowen
silver in the wood by emily tesh
the once and future witches by alix e. harrow
the kingdoms by natasha pulley
a tip for the hangman by allison epstein
she who became the sun by shelley parker-chan
the song of achilles by madeline miller
spear by nicola griffith
this is how you lose the time war by amal el-mohtar and max gladstone
gideon the ninth by tamsyn muir
some desperate glory by emily tesh
all systems red by martha wells
a psalm for the wild built by becky chambers
the mimicking of known successes by malka older
winter's orbit by everina maxwell
fireheart tiger by aliette de bodard
empress of salt and fortune by nghi vo
legends and lattes by travis baldree
the house in the cerulean sea by tj klune
other ever afters by melanie gillman
the priory of the orange tree by samantha shannon
a day of fallen night by samantha shannon
a strange and stubborn endurance by foz meadows
the unbroken by c.l. clark
real queer america by samantha allen
fun home by alison bechdel
in the dream house by carmen maria machado
better living through birding by christian cooper
why fish don't exist by lulu miller
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baddywronglegs · 5 months
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The train doors opened and the wizard stepped aboard.
He looked down the carriage with a sigh, taking in the rows of full seats, uninterested faces. Not one of these people wanted to give up their place for a tired old man, however extravagant and pointy a hat he wore.
He took a swig of the coffee from the platform, chewed the grounds, and marched up to the first row of seats.
“Excuse me, child,” he rasped, leaning over a man clearly in his thirties, who spent a gallant amount of time pretending not to notice he was being spoken to by the owner of the beard currently tangling itself in his own. “Where do you get off?”
The man frowned. “Doncaster.”
The wizard stood upright again and raised an incredulous eyebrow. “Really?”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
“Change trains to Leeds.”
“Ah,” the wizard said sagely. “So it is not Doncaster you want to be in but Leeds.”
“I guess?”
“Splendid.” The wizard threw his empty cup over his shoulder where it fizzled out of existence, threw wide his arms, and brought them together with an almighty clap – right where the Leeds-bound man would have been, had he not in that instant been replaced with a sprinkling of purplish glitter.
The wizard eased himself into the now vacant seat. His new seat-mate took an earbud from her ear, staring in shock at what had just happened beside her.
“What just happened?”
“I sent him to Leeds,” the wizard said levelly. “I’ve done worse.”
“You teleported him?”
“I wanted a seat, he wanted to be in Leeds, it worked out best for both of us.”
“But if you can teleport people why didn’t you just teleport yourself?”
You can hide a lot of things in a beard. A smug smirk, a thoughtful curl of the lip, a scowl – but like a tiger in the long grass, it’s the movement from one to the other that gives them away.
“Look I paid a lot for this ticket,” he muttered at length. “And I can only do that once a day so we’re stuck together until one of us gets off, so just put that thing back in your ear and let me have this one.”
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aamircoeur · 2 months
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just distressed (still not a damsel) ー ultraman, ken sato.
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ultraman getting to know his damsel as kenji sato, the baseball player.
SEQUEL. PART 1.
sfw, female reader. UNEDITED.
you smiled at the chef and sat down on a stool, looking around to examine the place. it was clean and the lighting inside was warm, and the place had a lingering smell of fried eggs and soy sauce, which you really liked.
it was seven in the evening and you were at tonkatsu tonki for dinner, as per ultraman's suggestion. you had small chats with the chef as he made your order, with you being the only customer that he had as of the moment.
a few weeks have passed since your lengthy chat with japan's superhero. although you had been in the scene when yet another kaiju attacked this week, you weren't as involved as the previous times, which made you sad about not having the chance to talk to ultraman again. it was for the better, though, you thought. the poor guy sounded like he needed all the rest he could have.
he handed you your bowl of tonkatsu and poured water to your glass. while you were talking to the chef, a replay of this morning's baseball game was playing on the television that hung on the wall of the restaurant. you took a peek every now and then whenever the chef made reactions about the game, making you curious. "are you a fan of baseball?" you asked, taking a bite of your tonkatsu.
you got to know the chef for the past thirty minutes that you've been in the restaurant. he's a sarcastic man who genuinely cared for the food of the customers and their well-being, saying that his regulars had been coming in and out of his restaurant for more than twenty years.
"huge fan. i used to watch the games held in tokyo dome with my daughters," he said, his eyes never leaving the television. "but they've grown older, and we only watch together when they're free."
you hummed in response. "i was a huge tigers fan, and my daughters were even bigger fans of the giants." he laughed, and you smiled at him. "what about you? you like baseball?" he asked, wiping the spatula that he used.
you drank water to help you swallow your food before answering. "ah, not really. it never really piqued my interest." you said.
in the middle of your conversation, a group of rather tall men walked into the restaurant, greeting the chef before sitting down, who only waved his hand at them as he focused on his conversation with you.
"what do you mean it never piqued your interest?" the chef echoed, his eyebrow raised in a rather animated way which made you laugh at him.
"i-it just never crossed my mind much."
"baseball never crossed your mind much?" the chef asked in disbelief. "it's the best sport there is! don't tell me you're one of them basketball people."
"i have nothing against baseball. personally, i just don't like it. it looks fun though!" you explained yourself.
"you hate baseball?" the chef asked in front of you.
"i donー"
"you hate baseball?" the guy who sat near your stool chimed in.
"i don't!" you said, rubbing your cheek to show light-hearted annoyance.
the chef looked at you and faked a scoff, before walking to the group of men further from you to ask for their order. you laughed at him and sighed before drinking from your glass of water.
"so," the guy from beside you called out. "what was the "you hate baseball" argument with the chef?" he asked, taking off his sunglasses before hanging it at the front of his shirt.
you smiled and playfully rolled your eyes. "what i was saying is that i don't hate baseball." you said, taking a bite of your food after. "it's just not in my area of, uhm, interest or expertise."
the guy chuckled, running his hand through his jet-black hair. "i don't think i've ever met anyone who told me that they don't like baseball."
"what is it with guys and baseball?" you joked.
"hey, everyone likes baseball." he responded. he reached out his hand in front of you, offering a handshake. "i'm kenji." he said.
you accepted the handshake and held his hand, shaking it. "i'm [name] [surname], pleasure being baseball buddies with you."
"don't think that us being baseball buddies would work, considering how you don't like baseball," he joked with a forced frown on his face.
you groaned and he just laughed at you.
kenji ordered his usual and kept quiet, listening to his teammates as they debriefed the game that they had earlier. he was happy to have a close friendship with each and every one of them after struggling with adjusting to moving back to his home town two years ago.
but what made him the happiest is this restaurant, and seeing you in it. the night after his talk with you downtown, was the only time that he got a good night's sleep the whole week despite him getting only five hours.
not in a million years would he admit it, the chances of seeing you during a kaiju attack was the thought that made him feel light on his feet and eager to protect the city (to see you). but to his surprise (he was bummed the whole day), he didn't catch at least a glimpse of your [color] hair, but it was fine, he thought.
he didn't need to see you all the time, he thought. that would be greedy and desperate, he thought. your safety is what matters, it's a good thing that you weren't near another kaiju attack, where he had the chances of talking to you again, he thought.
"so, were you near the kaiju attack last week?" kenji asked.
why the fuck did he ask that.
you looked at him and tilted your head. "uhm," you said, chewing on your food and swallowing it as your facial expression questioned the weird conversation starter.
great, kenji. now she probably thinks you're a freak, he thought.
on the outside, kenji was as cool as ice with his unbothered look and relaxed body language. but internally, he was on his way to drive his motorcycle off mount fuji.
"i was near it, actually." you said, drinking your water. "i was a few streets down from the kaiju, so thankfully i didn't have any trouble getting to a safe place."
kenji sighed out of relief, thankful that you were safe, and that you didn't seem to think of him as a freak. "that's good," he said.
"funny you mentioned kaijus," you said. kenji looked at you with shock in his eyes, beads of sweat forming on his forehead.
did you figure it out . . ?
"i've recently gotten my old apartment building ruined by one just a few weeks ago." kenji sighed.
"oh, i'm sorry," kenji said and you just waved your hand to let him know that it was okay. "how are you holding up?" he asked.
"alright, i guess. the landlord was kind enough to give us back two months worth of rent back for the inconvenience and exposure to danger. i guess the kdf offered their aid to him." you said as you continued eating your meal.
kenji hummed. "what about you?" you asked, placing the back of your forearms against the table counter, your elbows brushing against his.
kenji took notice of this and cleared his throat. "i haven't been near one," an obvious lie. "there was one time when a kaiju attacked the arena that i played in, it was gigantron, i think?" kenji said.
"oh, that's unfortunate. glad to know you're safe." you said.
"oh, no, i'm really not. the kaiju now holds me hostage in my own home."
"huh . . ?" your eyebrows knit together in worry, your [color] eyes staring into his purple ones.
kenji stared back into your pretty eyes and felt warmth on his cheeks. he looked at how your expression says that you believed every word he said. kenji covered his smile with the back of his hand and laughed, squinting his eyes.
you immediately frowned at the joke and gave his shoulder a soft punch before taking another bite at your food.
suddenly, the lights of the restaurant started swinging and flickering. you felt the ground shake and you looked at the people in the restaurant, before locking eyes with kenji once again who gave you a worried look.
a speaker that came from the street alerted everyone of the happening. "this is the kaiju defense force. evacuate the area immediately." the speaker repeated.
the roof of the restaurant broke, a red-colored foot piercing into it. you heard the people that kenji came in with shouting as they guided to help each other scurry to exit the building. as the others left, everyone was divided and you were with the chef and three other people. the chef led you all to the back exit of the restaurant and you all ran into the street, gathering with the other people in the neighbouring buildings who went out for their safety.
"are you all okay?" the chef asked, beads of sweat forming on his forehead from the sprint.
you gasped for air, trying to ease your breathing as you threw him a thumbs up.
"kenji and the others went out into the street to where the kaiju is," one pointed out.
another held onto his shoulder and gave him a worried look. "i'm sure they're alright." he said.
the crowd talked amongst themselves while the tmpd (tokyo metropolitan police department) made sure that everyone was okay and that the injured were provided aid. ultraman appeared as always, his glowing eyes acting as the sun in the cold night.
after an hour, ultraman had guided the kaiju back to where it came from. the kdf gave the tmpd the green signal and told all the civilians to go home for the night, asking those with the damaged properties to stay behind to discuss insurance and such. you bid farewell to the chef who asked you to stay safe before he was guided by the policeman to talk in an office.
a man tapped your shoulder and bowed farewell to you along with his mates, hoping for your safe travels. they were the people you were separated with in the restaurant. you greeted them good bye and started walking home.
alone again, you sighed to yourself and rested your hands in the pockets of your jacket.
this was probably the first time that you were dangerously near a kaiju attack without talking to ultraman, you thought.
turning right into a dark street, you saw a big motorcycle parked on the side as you were about to pass it, and before you knew it, a huge being emitting a beam of light was falling from the sky.
what the fuck?!
you covered your face with your arms before it landed to spare yourself from accidental blindness, and you were surprised to lower your arms just to see the man that you met earlier at the restaurant instead. "little ma'am?" he called out, eyes widened as he panted.
you stared at him with complete shock visible on your face. "kenshi?!"
taglist: @ttulipwritezz @c-losur3 @saeyari @taleiak @spencerrxids
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highvern · 4 months
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Houdini
Pairing: Kwon Soonyoung x f!reader
Genre: smut, hint of fluff at the end
warnings: drinking, allusion to drug use, sub hoshi likes when reader is mean to him, oral sex (f. receiving), fingering, protected sex, reader calls hoshi a furry more than once, cumshot, hair pulling, reader wears bunny ears
Length: ~5.3k
Note: this started as a prologue to a different fic but i wanted it to become its own fic. danke @gyuswhore for being my torture subject as always as well as @onlyhuis @temptaetions @cheolism
Summary: The guy wearing a tiger onesie and ripping a bong in the corner might not be the most promising prospect of the night. But you've got a point to prove and a bet to win. series m.list: Green Light [s], Yuck [f], Talk [a, s, f], Casual [a, s, f], Mine [s], espresso [f, s]
m.list
This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.
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The cramped living room is hazy with the smell of pot, cut by cheap led strip lights painting everything in violets and blues. Butt numb from the stiff armrest of the couch, you adjust the bunny ears on your head for the fifth time in the twenty minutes you’ve sat there.
Everyone else skitters around, dressed as different animals. More bunnies, a few cats, a guy dressed like a dinosaur hogging a joint. It’s someone’s birthday; a friend of a friend you’ve never met, but the promise of free alcohol before heading downtown isn’t even close to the worst way to spend your time. It’s why you fished out the dumb satin bunny ears from your closet; a relic from Halloweens past when you needed a cheap excuse to wear something scandalous in public with little judgment. 
June disappeared thirty minutes ago to find the birthday boy, leaving your entire group to mingle until she returns. 
You intently listen as Lily vents about her work crush for the nth time. His name is of no relevance, but she’s convinced herself it's love despite the fact he possesses fewer brain cells than a rock. A proven fact since he didn’t know the difference between consonants and vowels despite being well into his twenties.
“Why all the talk about relationships?” you interrupt. “Can we please have one night where we don’t talk about guys.”
“Some of us want boyfriends.” Anna rolls her eyes. 
“And yet, you can find one hundred percent of the benefits of one with zero effort. At least without all the mind games you two go through every week.”
“Easy for you to say.” Anna argues. “You’re like the poster girl for no-commitment sex.”
“I like what I like,” you shrug. “Not guys that say they want a relationship and then claim you're moving too fast when you ask him to treat you like a person.”
Lily gives an exasperated groan to the ceiling. “We get it. You hate romance.”
“I don’t hate it. I just like to be realistic. Most guys are good for one thing and I happen to admire them for that.”
“Do you realistically think you can get any guy here to sleep with you?” Anna asks. 
Any guy is a stretch. You’re easy but not without standards. Taken men are strictly off the menu. Along with weirdos or guys that look like they’ve never seen the inside of a shower. Anyone looking for a relationship typically removes themself from the running after figuring out you aren’t looking to be saved or changed, just a warm body that’s easy on the eyes.
“Pick anyone and if I pull him you owe me breakfast tomorrow.” You challenge them with a smirk. It’s slim pickings so early in the night, but nothing you can’t work with.
“Okay, then.” Lily agrees. “What about him?”
It takes you a moment to decipher who her manicured finger is pointing at. There's a small crowd in the corner of the room, guys too scared to mingle or uninterested in anything beyond their circle jerk. But he’s easy to spot; a tiger onesie and a dark crop of hair are all the details you get from this far away.
He seems to be the main entertainer of the bubble. Hands fly in different directions, chaotic but graceful. Now that you’re locked onto him, the boom of his voice floats under the heavy music. Tiger guy isn't your usual type. He’s lithe and lean; maybe a dancer or something athletic. You like them tall and domineering. It makes it that much sweeter when they try to dominate you, only to be beaten at their own game. Mingyu wasn’t your A-list fuck buddy for no reason. A damn shame he moved away at the end of last year.
But the man Lily’s picked will do what you need him to; prove a point and grant you a free meal. If you get at least one orgasm out of it then that’ll be a bonus. Chugging the last of your drink (which smells like nail polish remover and paint thinner had a very toxic baby), you drop the empty cup into Anna’s hand.
“And we want proof!” Anna calls as you stalk toward the far wall.
One of the other guys he’s talking to sees you approach, and you watch the way his eyes convey your presence, nearly bugging out of his skull. A gentle tap on tiger guy’s shoulder has him turning to greet you.
Confusion clouds his face. He’s cuter than you expected, with furrowed eyebrows and a pout that draws your eyes to his mouth with curiosity. You’ll find out their talents soon enough. 
“Hi,” you smile.
“Hi?” he parrots.
“I’m Y/N.” Eyes round with faux innocence, you make a point to take a few seconds staring at his mouth before meeting his curious gaze.
“Soonyoung.”
Soonyoung. The name rolls along your tongue easily. You light up at the way his eyes follow the curve of your mouth around the sound. It’s too easy.
Pushing forward, chest to chest; raising on your toes. You relish in another shiver at the brush of your mouth against his ear. “Is this your party?”
“Yeah, it’s my roommate’s birthday,” he says.
So that’s who June knows. 
“Cool. Wanna show me your room?”
“What?” You can hear the record scratch in Soonyoung’s brain; see the disbelief in his eyes.
Stepping into his space, your gaze burns a path from his lips to his eyes before you repeat, “your room?”
“Yeah, yeah. I can…definitely do that. This way!”
His own friends, still circled in the corner, gape in their own disbelief. Soonyoung has you charging through the crowded living room and down the hallway. Good. Even more bodies fill the narrow space but he nearly pushes them aside, waving off any grunts of discontent at his roughness.
You pass several doors on each side, all closed from prying eyes but you don’t have an interest anyway. His room is at the end of the long passage. A whiteboard with a crude image of a tiger and a rainbow hangs at eye level, coupled with ‘TamTam + Hoshi 5ever’ but you don’t have time to admire the art before you’re inside.
“So, this is it,” Soonyoung announces, hands wringing in front of his chest nervously. 
The tiger thing isn’t so much a coincidence and more of a theme. A poster of a tiger hangs on the wall above the dresser. But it’s not the worst of it. His bed hosts several plushies, all different sizes and shapes but certainly tigers. 
Whipping around, you eye him with incredulity. “Are you a fucking furry?”
“No!” He shakes like a bobblehead. Like he’s had to explain it dozens of times before. “It’s a joke! From college, with my friends.”
“A joke where you collect tiger memorabilia as a grown man?” You shoot back.
“It’s not that bad.”
Eyebrows flying to your hair line, you make a sweep of the room. “You have a framed picture of a tiger, are wearing a tiger suit, and have a miniature army of stuffed animals.” 
“Okay, maybe it is that bad, but I’m not a furry.”
If he was hiding more of the garish pattern out of sight you wouldn’t be surprised. For good measure, you fold over the blanket of his bed and sigh relief to find navy sheets instead of orange. You’ve slept with weirder guys for less but it’s nice to know he isn’t that weird.
“Whatever you say. But if you ask me to wear a tail, I’ll walk back out there and tell everyone.”
You peel your shirt off without another word. Once your vision is free of the fabric, you’re met with a starstruck man — mouth open, eyes skimming your chest, and what seems to be a half-chub tenting his pants. You revel in the silent awe rolling off him, preening at the attention. So easy.
But Soonyoung seems to come to his senses when you start working on the zipper holding together the back of your skirt shut.
“Woah, okay. We don’t have to go so fast,” he says, taking a step in your direction.
“So I should put my shirt back on?” You make for it like the threat is real.
“Let’s not be too hasty! I’m just saying, maybe we should, like, talk a bit first?”
Your feet carry you until there’s barely a breath between his body and your own. Soonyoung’s shirt brushes against your naked stomach with each stuttered breath as you eye his lips. “Well, do you wanna talk or do you want your dick sucked? Because I can only do one at a time.”
“Definitely the second one,” Soonyoung starts, dipping his hands to your ass for a harsh squeeze while shepherding you to his bed.
His mouth tastes like smoke and need. A disgusting combination if not for your tipsy brain easily ignoring it in favor of focusing on the roughness of his touch.
Soonyoung is eager, to say the least. He can’t touch you fast enough; hands darting from your ass, to your sides, to your breasts, and back down again. If this was happening at your apartment you’d tie him down and refuse to let him feel anything at all just to watch him squirm. 
You manage to flip him under you, pinning him in place with your thighs to rest across his lap like a throne. Taking the change in stride, he uses the new angle to mouth over your bra; sucking harshly at your covered nipples till they stiffen for his fingers to pinch at.
“Condoms?”
Soonyoung shakes his head. 
Digging the heel of your hand into his forehead successfully unlatches the suction around your nipple.  He pouts at the interruption.
“You don’t have condoms?”
“I do, but I’m not about to fuck you after two seconds of making out,” Soonyoung argues. “I‘m not even hard yet.”
Shocked by the sudden attitude, you huff before rolling your hips down. You're met with a familiar lump pressing into the crotch of your pants, and Soonyoung has the nerve to simply return to his previous task as you rock against him again.
“Liar,” you pant after a delicious drag of his teeth on your collarbone and his cock against your ass.
You stay locked like that for a while, writhing against one another as clothes come off without abandon. Your bra first, then the damn tiger onesie. Soonyoung gets you on your back before flipping up your skirt and pulling your panties to the side, revealing your drenched center.
He sucks a bruise on your nipple, tongue messy as he explores what’s between your legs with a gentle stroke of his fingers.
“Can I go down on you? Please say yes.” Soonyoung traces the request across your chest with more nips of his teeth. 
“You have to ask?”
“Consent is sexy.”
“You sound like a PSA,” you comment. “But, yeah go ahead.”
Your hips lift to aid in removing the last scraps of clothing. There’s no shyness as you spread your legs wide, flashing the aftermath of a good make-out session for Soonyoung eyes only.
“Oh my god,” he moans.
The heat of his breath fans across your folds, sending a shiver down your spine. He doesn’t even blink as you clench from the aching need to be filled with whatever he’s ready to offer,
“What?”
“This is gonna make me sound weird again, but you have a really pretty pussy.”
Not something any previous partners have chosen to comment on, but you preen under the compliment. “Thanks.”
“No. Thank you,” Soonyoung says before looking at the ceiling. “God, thank you so much for blessing me like this.” 
“Stop being lame or I'll leave.” 
“Sorry, you’re hot.” He says it like an accusation. “Just wanted to let the universe know I recognize that and appreciate it.” 
“How about you recognize the fact I’m drying up as we speak?” 
“No you aren’t,” Soonyoung argues. “You’re dripping on my sheets.” 
Your hand skates across your front, falling between your thighs. Like hypnosis, he watches with rapt attention as you frame your clit between two fingers, giving a clear target for his attention. 
“Then do something about it.”
With a hand fisted in his hair, he does. An aggressive suck against your clit without warm-up sends a tremor through your core. Your fingers knot in his hair, twisting until he’s forced away from your cunt with a petulant frown. 
“If you keep licking my clit like a scratch off I will make you cry.” A jostle of the bed tells how effective your words are. “Oh my god. Did you just?” 
“I’ve never been threatened in bed before, okay? I'm just as shocked as you.”
He hides the embarrassment by wedging back between your thighs, gentler than before, lapping away the new flood of arousal from his responsiveness. A thrill hums down your spine and settles where Soonyoung’s mouth returns to work. His shoulders burn hot against the underside of your thighs, every surge of muscle rocking you back into the slick of his tongue. 
“Fuck.”
“Better?” he asks around a mouth full of pussy.
There might very well be a crowd at the door listening to every lewd squelch and pathetic whine, but you don’t care. A little direction, a grind of your hips when he does well and the sting of your nails when he gets ahead of himself does wonders. Soonyoung is eager to please and impress. You could probably lay here for an hour without a complaint for him; if anything, he’d actively encourage such indulgence if it meant your approval. 
It makes the temptation to overwhelm him too sweet to ignore. 
One of the hands flat against your stomach falls away easily, knotting his fingers through yours because of course he’d be the type to hold hands during sex. It’s cute, but that fondness is stomped down for something safer. 
Like sucking two fingers between your lips like it's his cock.
Soonyoung grunts frustration straight into your core, refusing to watch you wet his hand even when you moan at the prod against the back of your throat. Another hump against the mattress as an edge of teeth drags over his knuckles. 
You can’t help but laugh as he scrambles to stretch you across them. He curls one slowly, like you’ll object. When you don't, Soonyoung adds the other and resettles your thigh so he can watch them disappear inside. His knuckles return even more soaked and even you can’t pretend it isn’t a turn-on. 
“Fuck, you’re so hot.”
Before you can respond, he’s licking away the fresh wave of wetness from his praise. It isn’t new information, but Soonyoung is impossibly earnest and you’re pretty sure if he came from eating you out he’d be just as satisfied as if you fucked him.
“Gimme a third.”
Soonyoung moans like he’s the one getting off as he does what you ask. 
Your legs lock, sore at the hips from being dragged to the edge so quickly. It bubbles just under the surface. Too far away where you can’t reach it but know Soonyoung can. He knows it too by the way you whisper his name. 
“If you touch yourself right now will you cum?” 
“Probably.” 
“Good.” You're overeager, just like the man between your legs, but the idea he can get off from eating you out can’t be ignored. “Show me.” 
“If you make me cum twice tonight I will talk to my therapist about you, so no.”
You whine a protest. Something that would sound far more responsible falling from his lips in the established dynamic, but you don’t care. One of your feet wedges between the bed and his crotch, toeing along the bulge still hidden behind a pair of thin boxers.
“Is it not enough that I might cum from you insulting me, you have to see it happen?” He asks. 
The picture behind your eyelids is nothing short of demonic; pulling Soonyoung’s boxers down and the inside sticky with cum, but his cock still hard because once is definitely not enough. Or streaks of white coating his chest and thighs, the perfect trail to trace your tongue over. 
You don’t even have a chance to share the fantasy before he splits you on his tongue again. Firmer this time, with a hard press to your knees that has you vulnerable and exposed. He keeps his tongue flat and heavy on your clit. Perfect to grind up against until you shudder.
Since you can’t get Soonyoung to give in, you settle for ruining any future encounter he might have by making a show.
Your fingers tickle up your stomach, nails raising goosebumps at the soft touch. Back and forth and back and forth, a little higher each time until you catch the hill of your chests and circle the hard peaks. There's no reason to ease into it, not when you sneak a glance down and find a pair of brown eyes framed between your legs.
The way he watches makes you feel dirty. Nipples pebbled between your fingers, you arch into his next move. His tongue stays flat for you to use. You curl into it, humping Soonyoung’s face like he’s nothing more than a toy to get off on. 
“Shit, shit, shit.” 
He’s definitely slipped a fourth finger inside. The stretch borders just on the edge of pain but you take it in stride. Soonyoung looks like he might cum before you do. 
“I’m – oh. Just like that.” You groan deep from your core. 
Your clit is throbbing with sensitivity as he continues to coax pleased sounds from your tongue. Heating from the inside out, your hands abandoned the torture on your chest in favor of keeping Soonyoung in place so you can rut against him.
A switch flips with your next moan. Hands on your stomach, your breasts, shoving your thighs out of the way as he digs into your cunt like the best meal the world will know. 
“Cum for me. Please let me see you come,” Soonyoung begs. 
Fizzling out, you do what he asks. Your stomach tenses for a second and then you fly off the mattress from locked muscles. 
Soonyoung doesn’t stop as you twitch, nor when you kick an ankle into his side. Maybe you go a little wet at the eyes as he forces you straight into a second orgasm without an ounce of reprieve but it's probably coincidence.
Soonyoung finally moves away at an inhuman whine. His mouth is stained with the taste of you, but he wears it well. It almost makes you want to push him back down and see if you can survive a third orgasm.
To stop from blindly following temptation, you roll until you’re sat in his lap. You must look as disheveled as you feel; sweaty and strung out. Ready for more.
“Wait,” he sighs with the pain of a man delaying his own gratification. “Wear these.”
The wrinkled satin bunny ears knocked from your head earlier come back into view. Soonyoung doesn’t  even pretend to be ashamed as he plants them back on your head before finding the dip of your waist again.
You hate the idea of giving in so easily, but Soonyoung’s need rolls off him in thick waves feeding straight to your ego.  “Oh, but you’re not a furry?” 
His cock fits well against the curl of your fingers as you stroke him, standing tall and proud from his lap. Oddly enough, you get his earlier sentiment. You’ve never thought of a dick as pretty but Soonyoung’s is nice. Red and leaking at the tip, you’re tempted to duck your chin and get a taste, but Soonyoung drags you up to his mouth before you can even make a good faith try.
“Stop being mean to me or I’ll bust a nut,” he whines.
“Can’t have that,” you snicker. “Condoms?”
“Drawer.”
The door slams open in your haste. It’s a mess of lube, sex toys, and random chargers. Who keeps a phone charger where their lube is? Too eager for the promise of such a pliable partner doesn’t leave with an interest in asking, and the way he continues to suck at your throat isn’t helping. Until you find something that stokes your curiosity even more.
“Soonyoung. What are these?” 
A set of fuzzy tiger print cuffs dangle from your fingers. The jokes write themselves. But you ignore the re-occurrence of orange and black because you really want to know if he likes bondage. (Hopefully it’s a yes. Even more hopeful is he likes to be on the receiving end.)
“Birthday present.”
“Your friends are weird,” you say. “Have you used them?”
He looks shy, like he hasn’t just asked you to don animal ears and ride him into the mattress. Handcuffs are nothing in comparison but you wait out the nerves flashing on his face. “Maybe.”
“On who?”
“Umm…”
“Have you been handcuffed?” 
Do you want to be? The idea is just another fantasy you’ll think about later in the dark of your room when you need a quick way to get off. 
“No.”
“Lame,” you tease before tossing them to the floor and shoving a foil packet into his chest.
Soonyoung’s ability to multitask is nonexistent. Not when your nipping his ear lobe and whispering how bad you want him to fuck you; how you can’t wait to feel him inside you; how big his dick is. Perfect flattery that makes him whine and fumble the condom over and over again until you grant clemency and do it yourself.
His hands are rough against your ass as you slip him inside, slow because you want him to suffer just a little bit. Your thighs scream in protest at the angle but Soonyoung looks at you like he’s watching a miracle unfold and the discomfort is more than worth it.
If there was time, you’d let him fuck you from behind just to see how he’d fair with such a visual, but this is already dragging out too long. Soonyoung looks like he needs more time to adjust to the way he’s digging in your walls than you do. So you keep theme and start bouncing on his cock just to watch him go insane.
“God,” he grunts, neck strained and a vein rising on his forehead. “You’re fucking tight. Shit.”
Your eyelids flutter shut in focus. “Keep talking. Tell me how it feels.”
“Feels amazing, oh my god. You’re so wet.”
Your pelvis tilts so he can meet each stroke from below. The slap of skin on skin drowns out any other noise; the music, the screaming partygoers just outside. If someone walks by his door they’ll figure out what's happening in a second. Makes you want Soonyoung to be louder.
“You’re so hard for me.” 
You sink flat until your ass is cradled against the firmness of his thighs. You use the leverage to sit up and give an uninterrupted view of your front; how your breasts bounce with each movement, where his cock sinks deep into your guts without any resistance.
“All for you,” he nods, eyes wild and unfocused. There’s sweat on his neck and you can’t fight the sick urge to suck against the muscle laying underneath. “Fuck you make me so hard.”
“Should’ve let me suck your dick.”
“I know,” he whines. An arm loops around your waist, crowding you into the sheets from a smooth flip. An open mouth kiss, really just panted breath and tongue, distracts you further. A thumb at your chin keeps you pliant to whatever he wants.
He rocks deeper, as if it's possible. Surges right into that spot that curls your chest tight with rough fluidity. Your thighs fold wide to give him room.
One of your hands rubs at your clit to catch up.
“God, yeah, touch yourself for me.” Soonyoung whines. “Can you come again?”
He’s not just a sub, he’s a sadist.
“I—”
“Please,” he begs with a hard rush. 
“Yeah, okay,” you mumble. “Fuck me harder. Make me cum on your cock.”
You dig your free hand in his hair, tugging until it stings at the roots just the way he likes. The reward is another harsh rut of his hips that leaves you gasping for air. 
“Fuck. Right there, baby,” you moan along with the sloppy noise echoing between your thighs. “Don’t stop.”
You scramble to grab his ass, pulling him flush against you for the perfect angle to batter your insides. Your skins on fire as you tumble closer and closer to that point of no return. 
“Soonyoung!” you gasp. It’s right there. That blissful ending is just a hairwidth away. 
“God, you’re so hot,” he folds in half as he says it, crushing you underneath his body until you're bent in half in his lap with the wet of his tongue at your jaw. “Cum for me, cum on my cock.”
You twist tighter under his insistence, shrinking and shrinking, and then — finally — it splinters. The waves rock through you, head forced back into the pillows from the force of moans wrecking your throat. “Oh— fuck, that—god. Oh.” 
Vision black against the inside of your eyelids, you melt into nothing. Only Soonyoung’s grip keeps you from shaking apart into a million pieces as you whine into his mouth. 
“Holy shit, that was so hot,” he’s rambling the way to his own end, hips shaky from the way you’ve wetted his cock. “You’re so hot. Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
You want to watch him cum. Even if the temptation to lay there and take it is sweet you won’t give in. 
Bangs sticking to his forehead with sweat, Soonyoung is a mess in his own right. Pink at the ears, lips bruised. You can’t get enough. His eyes darken as you suck along his thumb, tongue lashing against the sensitive pad. Soonyoung isn’t the only one that wishes you got to suck his dick. 
“Cum on me,” you whine. 
He pulls out, quickly tossing the condom aside. Your hand is already waiting to jerk him off over your body, the grease of the latex making the strokes smooth as Soonyoung fucks your fist with the same desperation as your pussy. It takes only a few thrusts before you feel the heat of his spend drip across your chest and stomach. You’re careful to stay still, body spread flat as he coats you in pale streaks. 
“Fuck,” he gasps. He twitches when you don’t stop, biting his tongue through the sting of overstimulation until he has to pull away.
Soonyoung collapses to the side. Shoulder to shoulder, you catch your breaths in the dull thump of music.
“That was fun.” You pat his stomach before standing. The floor is a mess of clothes needing to be plucked through. His shirt becomes a cum rag as you wipe away the mess staining your body.
“You aren’t gonna stay?” He calls from the bed. 
“No?” 
Why would I? you think while pulling on your underwear.
Soonyoung watches, splayed across the bed with his dick still wet in his lap. “Then, can I, like, call you sometime?” 
“No thanks.” 
“If you keep being mean to me I’m going to fall in love with you.”
 “Quoting New Girl isn’t giving me much incentive to be nicer,” you snort, untangling your bra. 
“It’s a great fucking show.” 
“Here’s a tip: if you want to fuck me again, stop being such a loser.” 
“You still let me hit so I think you like losers.” 
He’s smiling. You really need to find your underwear so you can get away from it.
“I like hot guys with big dicks,” you shrug. “You happen to be that.” 
“I know you want me,” he sings
“Dead, maybe.” 
“You’d miss my stroke game.” 
“I’d love to stroke you.” You coo. “With a bat. To the head.” 
“I love when you talk dirty to me, baby.” He groans with dramatic flair. “By the way, you have cum on your skirt.” 
You do, on the hem somehow. A mystery to be solved when you’re safely back in the crowded expanse of a party and not alone with the guy with a tiger fetish you might want to fuck again. “Not the first time.” 
“God…. Please give me your number.” 
You can’t swallow the smile blooming at his request. Instead, you turn to leer over him. He’s watching your mouth, licking his lips like he wants to drag you down for another tumble. “Keep begging.” 
He’s got enough humor to get on his knees and clutch his hands to his chest pathetically. You’re still close, watching him down the slope of your nose while hiding a smirk. 
“Queen of my dick, please bestow a crumb of kindness and allow me the pleasure of hitting you up at 3 AM.” 
“That time I almost caved.” You back away just in time for him to stumble over himself. “Too bad I don’t fuck guys into furry shit at 3 AM.” 
“One, not a furry. Two, who do you fuck then?” 
“One, you're not fooling anybody.” You take extra time straightening out your hair in the mirror just so he can stare at your ass. You feel him do it. “Two, myself.” 
“I will pay real money to see that.”
“I know you would. So you’re never gonna.”
He’s watching you like some lovesick fool, glowing in the light with ignorance of what comes next. Part of you doesn’t want to crush someone as earnest as he is but staying the night is out of the question when you can still hear the party rattling through the walls.
“If I give you my number,” you start. “You have to give me this.”
It’s one of the smaller plushies. Soft to the touch and attached to his keys hanging by the door. It’s cute and perfect enough to satisfy your friends’ demands. Also, an excuse to see him again if you really want.
 Maybe you do. 
“TamTam?” Soonyoung asks from your side. You didn’t even hear him approach but he’s got boxers on so it took him a minute.
“You name your stuffed animals?”
“TamTam is special.” 
“Oh, he is?” you ask. “Well, how bad do you want my number?”
“I don’t know…” Soonyoung starts. 
Your face stings at the rejection but you bury it before giving it a chance to fester into something that needs thinking about. Looking back in the mirror to correct the smudges in your make is the only cover you’ve got.
“Okay,” he nods. “But if you do anything to him I will actually cry.”
TamTam is thrust into your hands and you can’t help but smile. It’s cute. Soonyoung is cute. And it actually might make you explode. 
You hate it.
“I pinky promise I will throw myself in front of a bullet for TamTam.”
He locks his pinky around your extended one, “Good.”
And then he’s kissing you again. Every thought melts away under his lips, soft against your own with a new sweetness. The edge of the dresser digs into your spine as he crowds you against it for more leverage but it’s merely an afterthought.
Soonyoung (not a furry): btw i lied [12:15 AM] Soonyoung (not a furry): im not hitting you up at 3am [12:15 AM] Soonyoung (not a furry): what are you doing tomorrow night (pls say me) [12:16 AM] You: tamtam and i are busy [12:33 AM]
Maybe you smile at the string of intelligible letters you receive after sending the picture of you kissing TamTam’s cheek. It’s no one's business if you do anyway.
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sinceileftyoublog · 11 months
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Bruce Hornsby Continues on the Trail
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Bruce Hornsby performs at the Pabst Theater in Milwaukee, 10/17/23
BY JORDAN MAINZER
At one point last Tuesday in Milwaukee, in response to one of many moments in the night fans shouted their requests at him, Bruce Hornsby joked, "I love the battle between disparate elements of my audience." Funny enough, I can't think of a statement that better defines the virtuosic pianist and singer-songwriter. That is, what's amazing about Hornsby is not just that he's traversed the worlds of rock, jazz, bluegrass, but that he has diehard fans of each of his endeavors. Go to a Hornsby show--even a solo one like at the Pabst Theater, sans defunct backers The Range or current band The Noisemakers--and you're bound to find both classical music appreciators and Deadheads alike.
In that sense, 1998's Spirit Trail, a storied and purposeful left-turn into modern rock after the jazz-focused Harbor Lights and Hot House, exemplifies Hornsby's multi-pronged approach. On Friday, Hornsby will release a 25th anniversary reissue of the record via Zappo Productions and Thirty Tigers. It contains a remastered version of the record, four "lost" songs from an unfinished record that was meant to be Spirit Trail's follow-up (shelved in favor of the almost piano-less Big Swing Face), and previously unreleased live performances of many of the album's songs. In Milwaukee, venue employees were handing out early CD copies of the reissue, the night a celebration of both Spirit Trail and Hornsby's discography as a whole.
Per usual, audience members requested songs both by shouting them out and via written submission, dropped off on stage prior to the show. As expected, they were all over the place, from Spirit Trail and even Lost Trail tunes to songs he simply refused to play because they were too boring or didn't age well, like "Dreamland" and "The Old Playground". Ever cheeky, at one point, Hornsby asked for requests and responded to the various audible shouts, "I haven't heard what I'm looking for yet." It was clear he wanted to give preference to Spirit Trail. He led off the night with "Preacher in the Ring Pt. I", his jaunty piano playing covering the song's ground in totality. You didn't even miss Sonny Emory's clacking drums from Live Trail, nor the dulcimer from both the studio and live versions of "Shadow Hand". Hornsby's finger exercises were simply a masterclass. He wrote standout track "Sneaking Up on Boo Radley" by learning to play over a left-hand ostinato, appropriating György Ligeti's "Etude 13: The Devil's Staircase", and nailed it live. It was a perfect Spirit Trail song to play without a band. His voice, too, was on point, wailing on the Black Crowes-inspired Lost Trail tune "Living in the Sunshine", doing justice to the studio version that indeed sounds like it could be sandwiched between the Southern rockers' "Remedy" and "Thorn in My Pride".
Yes, Hornsby's reach and influence goes beyond Spirit Trail. "The Show Goes On" has been featured in everything from Ron Howard's Backdraft to The Bear. During the set last Tuesday, he segued "Sidelines"--a duet from 2022's terrific 'Flicted with Vampire Weekend's Ezra Koenig--into his most famous song of all, "The Way It Is", during which he invited set opener/Bon Iver drummer S. Carey out to harmonize. That over the past decade Hornsby has fostered fruitful collaborations with the likes of Justin Vernon and Blake Mills is more evidence that he's as shaped by his contemporaries as his organic musical interests. So put yourself in his shoes in the mid-1990s, and you can hear his response to the sociopolitical and musical landscape of the past decade in many of the songs on Spirit Trail. He's asking himself tough questions about his own Southern heritage, challenging institutional racism on songs like "See the Same Way". The strummed mandolin of "Preacher in the Ring Pt. II" recalls Steve Earle's "Copperhead Road", "Resting Place" and "Pete & Manny" the radio-friendly heartland rock of Mellencamp and Petty. Yet, Hornsby's also dipping his toes in the worlds of electronica and hip hop, songs like the shuffling "Line in the Dust" written on a synth bed and with a drum machine beat like much of the second disc of Spirit Trail. And of course, the goofily titled "Sunflower Cat (Some Dour Cat) (Down With That)" is built around a sample of Jerry Garcia's riff on "China Cat Sunflower", as Hornsby was trying to explain the appeal of the Grateful Dead to producer Mike Mangini, a hip hop head. Mangini was so taken aback by the former band member's performance that he wrote a groove around the riff.
On fan favorite piano ballad and Spirit Trail highlight "Fortunate Son", Hornsby sings, "I've stared down the devil and had to look away." The song is ostensibly written from the point of view of a wheelchair-bound military veteran, lucky to be alive but maligning society's penchant to ascribe sacrificial glory to a life of physical limitations. I've always heard it, though, as the general antithesis to tough guy nihilism, whether action heroes or strong and silent singer-songwriters. Hornsby is the ultimate reflector, yet not quite ready to face mortality like many of the characters in his songs. After last Tuesday and 25 years of Spirit Trail, it certainly does seem like he's only just getting started.
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hqbaby · 3 months
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twenty — wheels on the bus
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mess it up — gojo x reader & sukuna x reader
⁀➴ when i told you i’m fine, you were lied to. when the love of your life falls for someone else, you decide to move on—by pretending to date your best friend, the campus fuckboy.
previous — masterlist — next
word count. 2.3k content. profanity, mentions of sex
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The rickety bus makes its steady way back to campus, creaking beneath the weight of the people inside, their things, the silence that they share. Save for Kento occasionally giving the driver directions, no one says a thing, everyone averts their eyes, refuses to acknowledge one another.
You’re sitting in the first row, squished to the window by Utahime’s sleeping form. Through the bus’ mirror, you can see that the rest of your friends dispersed in the seats behind you, most of them trying to stay as far away from each other as possible. 
Maki and Nobara are huddled somewhere in the middle, Maki awake and alert, Nobara dozing off. Satoru sits in between two couples, nervously glancing at Kimi sitting a row away. Sukuna is in the back, trying to look past the rows to catch a glimpse of you.
If anyone told you three days ago this is how things would end up, you wouldn’t have believed them. Who would?
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“I’m gonna leave you here!” Sukuna calls out into your apartment. He stands at your door with his bag, tapping his foot impatiently and checking the time on his phone every few seconds or so. “Seriously, tiger! We’re gonna be late!”
You stumble out of your bedroom and down your hallway, dragging your bag behind you as you beam at your best friend. “I’m here!” you say brightly. “Let’s go!”
Sukuna takes your bag from you, despite your protests. “Just let me take your bag! The bus is gonna leave us behind!”
You giggle as you lock your door and rush after him. “Why are you so worried the bus is gonna leave us?” you say. “Is it because of that time in eleventh grade when you—”
“No, it’s not because of that,” he cuts you off, shooting you a nasty look for even suggesting that. “I just don’t like being late to things.”
You raise your brow at him. “Since when?”
You know Sukuna. You’ve known him since he was in high school and showing up to classes late, always turning his assignments in after the deadline, always materializing at plans you made with your friends thirty minutes after you were supposed to meet up. You know Sukuna, and you know that he is anything but punctual. You doubt the word even exists in his dictionary.
And yet here he is. Coming to pick you at your apartment an hour earlier than he said he would come. Telling you to move a little faster, pick up the pace. Doing everything in his power to make you stop doing unnecessary things like washing your mugs or folding your laundry—even going so far as to do those things for you so you can focus on getting your things ready.
“You’re acting really weird,” you tell him as you get in the passenger seat. When he shoots you a confused look, you laugh. “Don’t deny it. Do you just wanna ski that bad?”
He rolls his eyes as he starts the engine. He ignores you for a bit, driving ahead, thinking over his words very carefully. Eventually, he decides to just say, “I don’t want your friends to have a bad first impression of me.”
That makes you snort. “You know basically everyone going on this trip,” you remind him. “Aren’t you and Mahito friends? Actually, best buds last I heard. This is hardly a first impression, and I highly doubt it will be a bad one.”
“But it’s the first time they’re seeing me as your boyfriend,” he says, stressing the last words as that makes him sound less crazy. “I don’t care what they think about me, but I do care what they think about your boyfriend. There’s no way in hell I’m embarrassing you.”
You can’t help but coo at his words—teasingly, but still. Who knew Sukuna could be this sweet?
“‘Kuna, you big softie,” you say, a shit-eating grin on your face. He scowls at you and you chuckle, your hand reaching over to pat his shoulder. “You could never embarrass me. Besides, if we’re late, they’ll know it’s my fault. I’ve made all of them late at some point in their lives.”
He looks at you warily. “You’re just saying that.”
“I’m not,” you tell him. You raise one of your hands in promise. “I swear, I’ve made Kento late at least three times in the last year. He will not fault you if you end up late because of me.”
It takes him a minute, but Sukuna eventually seems to buy your words. “Okay,” he says. “But we’re not gonna be late.”
You giggle, pinching his cheek. “You’re so cute when you’re concerned about what everyone thinks about you.”
He glances at you, a small smile on his lips. “Only for you.”
When you get to the bus, Kento is standing by the door, looking very concerned. He sees you coming over and gestures to you to move faster, frowning.
“I’ll deal with the bags, you go deal with that,” Sukuna says, taking your bag from you. He pecks you on the cheek, a gesture that sends your heart pounding. There’s just something about how casual, how natural it all seems that makes you appreciate it all the more.
“What’s up, Kento?” you ask as you approach the man. “Did you forget to pack your emergency underwear?”
He glares at you, tapping the clipboard that he’s holding on his hand. “We’re in crisis.”
You look around, at the mostly empty parking lot, at the sun shining brightly, the trees swaying gently. “I don’t see the crisis,” you tell him. “Mind pointing it out?”
He groans, burying his face in his hand at your antics. “Will you please just help me?”
You grin. “Well, since you asked so nicely,” you say. “What’s the crisis, Kento?”
“A few extra people showed up,” he says, showing you his clipboard with a floorplan of the place you’ve rented. “There are enough beds for them and everything, but what with all the little stipulations—Mahito can’t sleep in the same room as Aoi, you can’t be in the same room as Kimi, all that shit—I can’t figure out the sleeping arrangements.”
“Who said I can’t be in the same room as Kimi?”
Kento frowns. “Well, no one, but I assumed—”
“Okay, okay, I get it,” you tell him, smiling. It irks you a little to know that everyone thinks you’re not mature enough to be able to sleep in the same room as your ex’s girlfriend, but you know that they mean well. “Give me the floorplan. I’ll figure it out.”
He shoots you a look, unconvinced. “You will?”
“Yeah!” you say, reaching out to take the clipboard. When he doesn’t hand it over, you try and get it yourself. It takes a bit of force prying the thing from his hand, but he gives in eventually. “Come on, Kento. You gotta enjoy the trip too, you know.”
“You’ll figure it out?”
You nod, leading him onto the bus. “I’ll figure it out,” you say, pushing him ahead of you and placing him in his seat at the front. “Now, relax. Be a stupid college kid for once, yeah?”
Utahime, who’s sitting beside him, watches your exchange with amusement. “Trying to get the big guy to take a break?”
You nod at her, the two of you treating the twenty-one-year-old man between you like a toddler. “He’s gonna have a blast. Aren’t you, Ken?”
He narrows his eyes at you. “Stop patronizing me.”
“Not patronizing, just giving you the break you deserve,” you tell him. You tap the clipboard on his shoulder. “I’ll pass this over to you when I’m done. Utahime, make sure he stops working.”
“I’ll try my best,” she tells you, laughing as you can basically see the steam pouring out of Kento’s ears. “You should go find your seat.”
You nod, ruffling Kento’s hair before you turn to the rest of the bus. You find Sukuna waving at you, pointing at your seat beside him, and you make your way down the aisle over to him.
As you walk, someone grabs your arm.
“Well, well, well, fancy seeing you here.”
The voice has your blood boiling.
“Naoya, what the fuck are you doing here?” you basically hiss, looking down at the man smirking up at you from his seat.
He shrugs and it takes everything in you to not punch him right then and there. “I love skiing,” he tells you. “Who am I to turn down a fun little trip?”
Suguru, sitting beside him, does you the pleasure of punching his housemate’s arm for you. “Stop being annoying,” he tells him, then he turns to you, apologetic. “He found out about it through Satoru.”
You soften a little for Suguru’s sake, but you’re still clearly on the defensive. “Oh,” you say. “And you came to babysit him?”
Suguru chortles, much to Naoya’s dismay. “Something like that,” he says. “I’ll try and keep him away from you.”
“Thanks,” you tell him. You glance back at Sukuna who’s watching this whole thing from a distance with a raised brow. “I should get going,” you tell Suguru. “Enjoy the trip.”
“We will!” Naoya responds for him as you snarl at him before heading over to your boyfriend.
“What was that all about?” Sukuna asks as he scoots over to the window seat. He has his eyes trained on Suguru and Naoya, the former now basically trying to suffocate the latter as Naoya continues to pester him.
“Just friends of Satoru,” you say, quieter than you intended.
Ever since you witnessed that confrontation between Satoru and Sukuna at the sign-up booth, you’ve steered clear of mentioning your ex to your best friend. You like to think that the two of you can talk about anything, from that one time Sukuna peed himself before a math final to the boy you were obsessed with in high school, but this seems to be a sore spot. One you’re not willing to unpack just yet.
“Oh, okay,” Sukuna says. He’s trying to appear unbothered, but you can see through his whole act. He places his hand on top of yours and squeezes it. “You’d tell me if they were bothering you, right?”
You smile at him, leaning your head on his shoulder. “Definitely,” you tell him. “And Suguru’s fine honestly. He’s been very respectful, always has been. It’s Naoya who’s…”
“A bit of an ass?”
You chuckle. “Yeah, something like that.” Deciding to change the subject, you place Kento’s clipboard on your lap and sigh. “Help me figure out the sleeping arrangements.”
Sukuna leans over to see the floorplan. He hums. “I think we should take the bedroom all for ourselves,” he says in a low voice. “Don’t think I can go three days without fucking you.”
You feel your face heat up and you slap his thigh. “You’re such a horndog.”
“Can you blame me? My girlfriend’s gorgeous.” He presses his lips to the side of your neck. “You know you’re beautiful, right?”
“I think I’ve heard something to that effect,” you giggle as he kisses your skin. You try to push his head away, but your boyfriend is relentless. You whisper, “‘Kuna, we’re in public.”
“So?”
Laughing, you manage to finally push him off. When you see the pout on his face, you give him a quick kiss and pat his cheek. “If you really wanna make a good impression on everyone, you can’t fuck me on the bus.”
“Fine,” he huffs. “Totally fucking you at some point during the trip though.”
You kiss him one more time, rolling your eyes. “Whatever you say, ‘Kuna.”
When you lean back into your seat, you freeze at the two people standing in front of you.
“Oh, hi,” Kimi is the first to speak, offering you a polite smile.
You manage to smile back. “Hi,” you say. “Are you, uh, are you guys ready for the trip?”
Satoru has his eyes on Sukuna, his gaze is hard. He turns to you and smiles too, albeit a little tight. “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, we are.”
“Great,” you say, letting out an awkward laugh. You take Sukuna’s hand in yours. “I guess we’ll see you guys around.”
Kimi nods. “You sure will.”
As the two of them make their way to their seats in the back, you look over at your boyfriend, his cheery demeanor from earlier now reduced to a pensive look, one you’ve never really seen on him before.
You squeeze his hand, grabbing his attention. “Are you okay?”
His eyes dart over to you, wide, before he nods. “Yeah, tiger, I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?” you ask. You know better than to pry, but you have a feeling this is something you need to know. Need to ask. “Can you tell me why you and Satoru are so hostile with each other?”
He seems to be taken aback by that, but he tries not to let it faze him. “What do you mean?” he asks. “We’ve never liked each other.”
“Sure,” you say. “But you’ve been particularly weird recently. Did something happen?”
The words seem to be trapped in Sukuna’s mouth as he struggles to get the right things out. Eventually, he just settles for, “Nope. He’s probably just jealous that I have you now.”
You don’t believe him, but you say, “Okay… If you say so.”
You drop the conversation and decide to focus on fixing the sleeping arrangements instead. You have a feeling there’s more to this story that you know, and now you find yourself scared to find that out.
You glance over at your boyfriend with his head leaned against the window, at Naoya a few rows in front of you—never a good sign—and Satoru a few seats behind you, Kimi tucked under his arm.
This is gonna be a long three days.
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notes. IT'S THE SKI TRIP!!!! ARE WE READY??? i don't think i am 🫠
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todayisafridaynight · 2 years
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had to do the y4 final fight twice (bc i let tanimura die by accident but thats not the point of this) and during daigos the 1st time my head was empty no thoughts BUT 2nd time around i kept begging him to not hit his surrogate papa and saying i didnt want to hit my kid what happened between those two fights that made me go family brained its so funny to me
i should never be a dad because my immediate thought to this ask was 'no kiryu should supplex his dumbass kid actually'
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kyouka-supremacy · 1 year
Text
BSD Anthologies Masterlist
I couldn't find a comprehensive (and with still working links) masterlist of the translated anthology chapters so. Here we go! Biggest shoutout to this other masterlist by @/yokohama-drip for most of the chapter references and to bsd-bibliophile for chapters 7 and 12 of the first and second anthologies. Titles translation credits go to the bsd wiki. Happy reading!
Edit: Thank you so much @amythedemisimp for the precious additions!!!
1-5 raws
First Anthology -Rei-
Don't Get a Stomachache to Gain a Friend by Hideki
The Things I Hate, the Things I Like by Ichi Kotoko
The Devil Comes and Takes Care by KanaiNeco
Kenji 100% by Enya Uraki
The Detective Agency's Manju Incident by Ui Kashima
A Quiz During Work by Mito Aoi
Karl's Resentment by Tsubata Nozaki /// alternative translation
The Things I Like by Con Kitora
Me and the Cake and Sometimes the Pug by Kazuki Tōgō
Jun'ichirō Tanizaki's Suffering by Akamaru
Fortune-telling Will Bring Good Luck by Yūto Masagishi
Icy Weather by Tam Chashibu
What is a Partner...? by Akaza Samamiya
Second Anthology -Hana-
The Detective Agency and the Port Mafia's Holidays by Mikan Aka
Time Sale is a Battlefield by Guru Mizoguchi
Q's Stroll Day by Kazusa Subaru
Osamu Dazai Quiz Tournament by Hinoki Kino
Ruler! Fitzgerald's Room by KanaiNeco
Thirty-two. Episode Five by Kakashi Tano
Ichiyō Higuchi's Off Duty Top Secret Mission by Ataru Hida
A Restaurant with Many Literary Masters by Ko Nikaido
A Timid Person's Day by Masahiro Jinno
Hot Pots and Holidays by Sho Kimiduka
The Tiger's Repayment by Kotaro
Sweet Outing by Yuzuru Kuzukiri /// alternative translation
Bungos' Joint Social Gathering by Hideki
Stray Dogs' Lucky Spot Disagreement by Noka Nogami
Third Anthology -Rin-
Mother by Hideki /// alternative translation
The Mafia Inadvertently Read a Novel Written on a Whim and Reincarnated in a Parallel Universe by Hinoki Kino /// alternative translation
As You Wear It by Akira Hirahara /// alternative translation
The Devil's Automatic Door by Nanora /// alternative transaltion
How to Find Happiness by Kanae Ikushima /// alternative translation
Hello, Again Winter Dreams. by Pyaa /// alternative translation
The Visitor in the Rain by Togekinoko /// alternative translation
Because My Senior's Healthcare is Also My Job by Roku Sakura /// alternative translation
Good Weather, Cat Storm by Osawa /// alternative translation
Breakfast Situation by Miki Daichi /// alternative translation
Elise-chan, a Smartphone Application by KanaiNeco /// alternative translation
Q's Suffering by Hiko Nekome /// alternative translation
Tiger, Sometimes Cat by Taichi Miya /// alternative translation
The Port Mafia's Medical Check-up by Sakurana Haru
With a Hat, a Man and a Beef Bowl by Oda
Fourth Anthology -Akatsuki-
Poe and Ranpo and Enter and Black Tea by Imaru Adachi /// alternative translation
Apple Demon by Nykken
A Little Break by Siroisora
Exciting Grab Bag by Toriyasu
All Quiet on the Black Cloth Front by Mari Araki
Hirotsu-san's Coffee Shop by Yashino Ayashiro
The Client is a Cute Ghost by Otakumi
The Little Visitor in the Rain by Togekinoko
Fully Automatic Suicide Machine by Zero Akabane
Why Did You Come to Japan? by KanaiNeco
The Story of Kunikida Falling Asleep by Saru Hashino
A Hunting Dogs' Holiday by Hinoki Kino
Infernal Day by Asuka Keigen
The Decision is an Oblate that Enwraps the Pain of Life by Hideki
Fifth Anthology -Kanade-
Masterlist by @/zilinks
Sixth Anthology -Mutsumi-
Given to You Based on Your Level and Love by KanaiNeco
Detective Agency Radio by Yu Kira
GET UP LUCY!! by Kabotya
Poe, Wine and the Setting Sun by Imaru Adachi
Shindafuri Dai Sakusen by Yuri Tsukushiro
Hanachidori by iyutani
What Style Are You? by Kiyo Hasui
'Hitori' yori 'hanbun' by Neno
The Angel's Rest by Mari Araki
Mottomo Erai Egoisuto by Mutsuki Higashioji
Magomusume Sakusen, Zokkō-chū ni Tsuki by Eku Hachida
Boo no Yū by Asato Konami
Do S! Erisu-chan!! by Kakeru Sora
Young Ranpo Wants to Be Praised by Tsuki Anmi (incomplete)
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zeroreasonstocare · 2 months
Text
You’ve gotten used to going with Choso and Yuji to things for the little kid. Yuji has to get his flu shot, and he hates needles as much as he hates mannequins. Maybe worse.
Yuji’s sat in your lap, talking about how excited he is for school and counting how many cars drive past the doctor’s office as Choso fills out paperwork.
“Uhh three numbers after twenty-seven…” Yuji mumbles.
“Thirty.” You help him.
“Thirty cars!”
“Yuji Itadori?” A nurse calls for him.
Yuji nervously holds your hand while the three of you go into the hallway and he gets his height and weight measured before going into a room and waiting for the doctor to come in.
“So, Yuji, you excited for ice cream later?” You try to distract him.
“Yeah! I’m gonna get strawberry and rocky road!”
“Those are good flavors, I think I’ll get some chocolate chip cookie dough myself.” Choso smiles and sits beside you as Yuji sits on the big table.
“Mm, cookie dough ice cream…” you trail off and smile. “I think I’m gonna get plain old chocolate.”
The doctor walks in and smiles to Yuji, who suddenly gets nervous again and scoots towards you.
You sigh a little and sit up on the table with him, holding him in your lap. He sees the vaccine getting prepared and tries to escape your arms, so Choso helps distract him.
“Yuji, did you know that tigers are actually good swimmers?”
“Hm?” The pink-haired boy perks up and stops fighting you as you lift his sleeve to help the doctor. “They are?”
“Yup. And they’re also nocturnal. Remember what that means?” Choso continues as the doctor administers the vaccine.
“Umm, that’s when they are awake at night, right? Like owls.”
“That’s right.” Choso smiles as you look at him in slight astonishment that he easily distracted Yuji.
“Wow, such a smart boy for such a young age! And brave too! Yuji got his shot so fast he didn’t even notice.” The doctor adorns Yuji’s arm with a tiger bandaid.
“Wow, really?!” Yuji looks at the bandaid in awe that he didn’t realize he even got a shot.
“You know what that means, Yuji?” You smile and hold him on your hip.
“Ice cream!!”
Yuji smiles and you go to buckle him up in his car seat while Choso talks with the doctor and schedules Yuji’s next appointment. The doctor smiles.
“Your partner is pretty, and good with Yuji, how long have you been dating?”
“Oh, I’m not- we’re not together…”
“Really? I wouldn’t have ever thought otherwise. They look at you as if you’ve hung the stars.”
“Really? I’ve never noticed…”
“Well, you’ve got the same look for them, it’s insane that neither of you have noticed.”
The doctor waves to Choso as he leaves and gets into the driver’s seat. Do you really look at him that way? Is he really that oblivious? Is he really that obvious with his own looks? He hopes the doctor is right about how you feel.
Taglist: @samaraxmorgan @cherriee-ee
Masterlist
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