#it's in the category of it's so bad that it's entertaining

[valnizs]

question, why does nobody talk about the scene from the actor OVA where abberline reveals himself to be Vincent, did this scene pop into existence to haunt me?

[delku]

and yes kurogiri/inko is a real fucking pairing unfortunately

[k9wa]

⟁ A BULLET A DAY, ft. BOOTHILL.

⠀ — where teasing, annoying, poking and prodding all fall under the same category; flirting.

⚠︎︎ more mechanic! reader, gn, boothill being an idiot, flirting, suggestive, he has fake teeth to me, something about tension + leaving him high and dry is soooo ….

from this request !

it’s a miracle, truly, how boothill manages to be so tempting and endearing yet so utterly irritating and infuriating at the same time. 

and it’s hot, sure, but that just makes it all the more annoying, leaves you frustrated and with an odd pool in your stomach.  

boothill managed his way into your supply of bullets, happily tossing back the brass casings like a simple snack. it was a genius idea at the time, really, giving him a stomach that can store ammunition. though had you expected him to chew on the damn things instead of swallowing them— you know, like he was intended to— you would’ve just given him a little side bag to save yourself the work.

you half hoped the lead stuffing the things would seep into his still intact brain, but chastised yourself for the thought soon after having it. you don’t hate him that much. your brain should check back and try the thought again in twenty minutes. 

“y’know what’d be real neat, buttercup?” boothill’s legs were kicked up lazily on your workbench as he sat next to you, waiting for you to finish a small modification on his revolver. “spikes in my boots.” he lifted a foot up, rolling his ankle a bit. “you know, them retractable ones. be able t’a have some real fun with those things.”

you snorted, his efforts to dodge his synesthesia beacon as entertaining as always.

“since when do i take requests?” you asked, eyes focused down on your work— far too used to his antics to lift your head anymore.

“since when d’you deny gettin’ to tinker with me?”

he brought his feet down to the floor and leaned forward on his thighs, the denim of his pants tightening around them. “what, gonna make me say please and thank ya now?” 

you truly wanted to reply, say it wasn’t a half bad idea and that you’d look into the upgrade. until he started shaking a few bullets around in his palm like they were fucking almonds.

now boothill noticed the clench of your jaw, and oh how he revelled in it. he’s fully aware how the crunching of brass and lead peeves you, ie. you telling him to knock it off an hour ago— (“it ain’t hurtin’ nobody, is it now?”—) but you’re just so darn cute when you’re ticked off. he’s gotta push your buttons just a lil bit. 

“somethin’ the matter?” the way his sharp teeth gleamed through that damn grin weren’t doing anything to help. 

he took a bullet between his thumb and forefinger, the shiny gunmetal digits pinching the ammunition as he held it up next to you. “d’ya care for one, sugar plum?”

fine, you thought. two can play that game.

you tore your attention away from the old steel revolver, finally turning to look at him. boothill prepared for an insult, one he’d tell you was ‘flatterin’ and all,’ but it didn’t come.

you leaned towards his hand, keeping your eyes locked with his that glowed a familiar and faint red. 

then you took the bullet between your tongue and top front teeth, gently pulling it out of his hands with your mouth.

his smirk actually dropped— you’d think someone stuck an infected usb into his ear with all the ideas that flooded the forefront of his brain, making his circuits just tingle with excitement. something about the hot single mechanic in his area.

you turned back to your desk, removing the bullet from your teeth and twirling it between your fingers idly as you gave a once over to his revolver, as if nothing had happened.

boothill blinked, chuckling gruffly with a shake of his head as he slumped back in his chair, flicking another bullet into the air with his thumb and catching it in his palm with a gentle clink! the cyborg gave a low whistle as he kicked his feet back up.

“ain’t you somethin’,” he drawled, earning a chuckle from you. “y’sure know how t’keep a man on his toes, don’t ya buttercup?” 

“i dunno what you mean, boothill.” you only offered a hum, willfully ignorant to boothill’s colourful imagination.

“oh i’m real sure y’don’t.” he shook his head, another chuckle rumbling his chest and sending a shiver down your neck.

“say,” he leaned towards you, his shoulder to yours, feeling a little lucky and dropping his voice to a knee-weakening purr, “if that pretty mouth a’yers likes metal, i’m more’en happy t’a—” 

“all done.”

all bets go down the drain. boothill deadpanned as you clicked the barrel of his gun into place and handed it back to him, standing up to stretch your arms.

“shops closed for today,” you fold them, leaning back against your bench. “you better get a move on before i have to kick you out.”

boothill’s eyes trailed up your figure, taking his sweet time finding your face. the cowboy raised an eyebrow into a cocky arch despite him swearing his body was on the verge of its cooling protocol. 

“you keep woundin’ me, sugar.” 

“i dunno what you mean, boothill.”

⠀ 𑣲 MASTERLIST / GOT A REQUEST ?

[nastybuckybarnes]

Welcome Home

Pairing: Simon Riley X Reader

Summary: Nothing shatters the tension of a fight quite like needing your boyfriend to rush home to save you from people who would do you harm.

Warnings: Angst, Language, Fighting, Fluff, Kind of mean!Simon but not too bad, very minor violence, home invasion, I think that's it...?

Word Count: 1.5K

A/n: we're gonna dip a toe in the COD water and see what happens. I love ghost and Konig so we'll see what else I do there. For any and all COD stuff, I use Canadian Military as a basis for the readers background.

~*~

"I've had enough of this. I'm not gonna argue with you about somethin' so stupid," he hisses, glaring at you with hard, cold eyes.

"It's not stupid, Simon, you just don't want to ever entertain the idea of talking about things that might make you slightly uncomfortable!"

"Oh fuckin hell." He drags a hand down his face and shakes his head.

"Everythin's always gotta end with you being right, doesn't it?"

You frown at his absolute lack of any sort of understanding or empathy.

"This isn't about me being right, this is about you at the very least hearing me out!" You try.

"You knew what you were getting in to the moment you met me, m'not sure what you're expecting of me now. S'not like I can go and change the way things are, now can I?"

You narrow your eyes at him and his blatant ignorance.

"I understand full well, Lieutenant. I've been there, which is something you seem to conveniently forget."

He lets out a humourless chuckle and shakes his head, "don't go put yourself in the same category as me now, lovey. You know you weren't exactly at my level when you served."

His words are a slap in the face.

Sure, you were never quite JTF2 or SAS level, but that doesn't mean your time in the military is any less valid than his.

Seven years of your life you devoted to serving your country, the medical help for teams like his, and all he can do is turn his nose down at it as if it means nothing to him.

"You know what? Fuck you, Simon. I never even insinuated that we were at the same level and for you to try and..." you stop, pinching the bridge of your nose as anger fills you.

"What? Got nothin' to say now? That's a shock."

It takes all your strength not to lash out at him and even more to stop your bottom lip from quivering at just how mean he's being.

Sure, he's always been a little rough around the edges, a little harsh and brazen, but never has he been so downright mean to you.

"Get out."

"What?" This seems to genuinely catch him off guard, his arrogance faltering for a moment.

"Get out. Leave."

Simon Riley isn't a man who gets scared. He's been chewed up and spat out of hell before. Nothing on Earth can get the jump on him and nothing can scare him.

At least, that's what he thought.

His palms tingle and he needs to grind his teeth together a few times to collect himself before speaking.

"So that's it then?" He asks, his deep voice barking the question like he would an order.

You two have had your fair share of fights in the time that you've been dating, even more since you moved in together, but none where he's thought you might end things.

"I'm not gonna stand here and take a verbal beating from you, Si. Get out and come back when you've had a chance to fucking cool off."

He stares at you for a long moment, testing your resolve, waiting to see if you really mean it.

When you hold his glare, not backing down, he grabs his coat, mask, and keys and storms out of the house without another word.

You stand there in the kitchen for a long moment, the silence ringing heavily in your ears before you storm up the stairs to take a shower and, hopefully, argue out all your hostility in private.

The warm water runs over your tense shoulders for a few minutes and you try your hardest to relax, to let the anger seep out of you and run down the drain, but when you hear the front door open you're filled with rage once more.

You stand in the shower silently, waiting for the door to open and close again, signalling his departure, but instead you just hear boots on the kitchen floor.

Scoffing and shaking your head, you start to seethe.

As if he's wearing his shoes in the house on top of everything else.

You yank the shower curtain aside and step out onto the mat, not bothering to turn the shower off.

A crash from the kitchen makes you freeze.

Simon is never this loud.

Like a deer on the highway, you stay still, silencing your breathing as you listen to the noises coming from the kitchen.

Instead of calling out to him and potentially causing more trouble, you take a silent step to the counter where your phone lies.

You grab it and hit his icon quickly, listening to it ring for a while before he sends you to his voicemail. A loud beep sounds tauntingly in your ear and you huff out an angry breath.

You hang up and call him back, grinding your teeth together when he sends you straight to voicemail again.

The noises in the kitchen continue, and your heart jumps into your throat.

Answer your phone, Simon.

You shoot the text off quickly then immediately call him again, your stomach settling when the call connects.

"Are you home?" You waste no time on pleasantries, and instead hear him sigh heavily.

"You told me to get the fuck out, didn't ya? Why would I be home."

Your breath hitches and you press your back to the bathroom door, turning the lock silently as panic fills you.

"Simon, someone's here."

The fear in your voice has his blood running cold, his fingers gripping the steering wheel tighter as your fight gets shoved from his mind.

"What do you mean 'someone's here'?" He asks, his voice lacking the anger it had only moments ago.

"I heard the door open and I can hear someone in the kitchen."

You hear his tires screeching on the pavement and his engine roaring as he speeds home.

"Where are you right now?" This isn't Simon talking now. You recognize the change.

This is Ghost.

"I'm in our bathroom. Door locked and shower on."

"Good. Keep that water running. As long as they think you don't know they're there, you should be okay until I get home."

"Okay." You feel a little bit safer knowing he's on his way home.

"Keep me on the line."

"Okay."

There's a few seconds of just breathing before you speak again.

"How far are you?"

"Two minutes away."

"Okay... After you deal with these guys we can go back to yelling at each other," you whisper, wrapping a towel around your body and leaning against the wall across from the door.

He chuckles softly and the sound makes a small smile tug at your lips.

As much as he pisses you off and even sometimes hurts your feelings, deep down you know you'll never love anyone the way you love him.

You don't realize you've been quiet until he calls your name softly.

"You still with me, dove?" His voice is soft and you hear him turn the car off.

"I'm here."

"Good. I'm home now, don't come out of the bathroom 'till I come get you, understood?"

"Understood."

Sometimes living with Simon reminds you of being on base, and there are times when you despise it.

And then there are the times when you don't mind it as much. This is one of those times.

You hear the muffled sound of what must be him putting his phone in his pocket, and you close your eyes as you hear the soft click of the door handle through the speaker.

His footsteps are silent, even through the phone, and you feel ridiculous for ever thinking you'd hear it if he came home.

You can hear him as he takes down one intruder, and then what must be a second one.

He says nothing to them, that you can hear. But a series of dull thuds echo through the house before silence remains.

A few minutes go by of nothing, but you don't dare speak or open the door.

Ghost gave you an order, and you have no intentions of disobeying.

There are a few more moments of silence before you hear a crisp knock on the door.

"Lovey? You can open up now."

Breathing out a sigh of relief, you open the bathroom door and are immediately engulfed in Simon's strong arms.

He walks you backwards into the bathroom and squeezes you to his chest, mask hiked up over his nose so he can breathe in the scent of you.

"You all right, love?" He asks softly, his voice gruff and ever so rough.

"M'okay, Si. Thank you for coming home."

"S'my fault anyway. I shoulda locked the door before leavin' in a huff the way I did."

You frown and shake your head, pulling away to look up at him.

"This is in no way your fault, Simon. I could've easily locked the door after you. I'm just happy you got home in time."

Though you're not sure what the intruders really wanted, you're glad you didn't have to find out alone.

"I'll always come home."

And with those four words, he puts to rest not only the intruder situation, but also your argument from earlier.

Because he will. He'll always come home to you, regardless of what he needs to do, he'll make sure he comes home to you.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Thinking the unthinkable

On SEPTEMBER 24th, I'll be speaking IN PERSON at the BOSTON PUBLIC LIBRARY!

Time and again, I find myself thinking about radium suppositories: specifically, I get to thinking about the day that the consensus shifted from "radium suppositories are great" to "stop putting radioisotopes up your ass."

The thing is, people really liked radium-based quack remedies. They drank radium-infused water, smeared radium cream on their faces and bodies, and yes, rammed radium suppositories up their assholes:

https://maximumfun.org/episodes/sawbones/radium-girls/

The fact that this made whatever ailed you sicker didn't deter the radium true believers: if you're getting sicker, then you must need more radium.

When I think about the debate over radium, I imagine that the people who understood that radium was really bad for you must have run up against critics who told them they were being unreasonable. "You can't tell people to stop using radium. Tell them to use suppositories with less radium. Tell them to use them less frequently. But you can't just tell people, 'stop putting radium up your asshole.' They won't take you seriously."

About 20 years ago, I started pitching various institutions that reviewed consumer tech policy on the idea that they should reject any product that had DRM. After all, DRM didn't just restrict how you used a gadget today, it provided a facility for nonconsensually, irreversibly field-updating that gadget to add new restrictions tomorrow. How could a reviewer in good conscience say, "Go ahead and buy this device if you need this feature," if they knew that at any time in the future, the gadget's maker could take that feature away and leave the buyer with no recourse?

Here's the warning I (half-seriously) suggested magazines run alongside such products:

WARNING: THIS DEVICE’S FEATURES ARE SUBJECT TO REVOCATION WITHOUT NOTICE, ACCORDING TO TERMS SET OUT IN SECRET NEGOTIATIONS. YOUR INVESTMENT IS CONTINGENT ON THE GOODWILL OF THE WORLD’S MOST PARANOID, TECHNOPHOBIC ENTERTAINMENT EXECS. THIS DEVICE AND DEVICES LIKE IT ARE TYPICALLY USED TO CHARGE YOU FOR THINGS YOU USED TO GET FOR FREE — BE SURE TO FACTOR IN THE PRICE OF BUYING ALL YOUR MEDIA OVER AND OVER AGAIN. AT NO TIME IN HISTORY HAS ANY ENTERTAINMENT COMPANY GOTTEN A SWEET DEAL LIKE THIS FROM THE ELECTRONICS PEOPLE, BUT THIS TIME THEY’RE GETTING A TOTAL WALK. HERE, PUT THIS IN YOUR MOUTH, IT’LL MUFFLE YOUR WHIMPERS.

https://pluralistic.net/2023/12/08/playstationed/#tyler-james-hill

No one took me up on my offer. Over and over again, magazine editors, managers of nonprofit review outlets, and indie gadget reviewers told me that it was unrealistic to publish a roundup of, say, this year's portable music players with the recommendation, "Just don't buy any of these. None of them are fit for purpose."

In other words: No one wanted to publish, "The correct amount of radium to stuff up your asshole is zero."

But the correct amount of rectal radium for you to administer is "none" and the correct car for you to buy today is none of the cars:

https://foundation.mozilla.org/en/privacynotincluded/articles/its-official-cars-are-the-worst-product-category-we-have-ever-reviewed-for-privacy/

This isn't the first time the correct automotive recommendation was "don't buy any of these cars." Back before seatbelts came standard in cars, the correct car was "don't buy a car." Sometimes, the correct answer is "none of the above." Even if that makes you sound unserious, the alternative is that you counsel people to put radium up their asses in a bid to seem "reasonable."

Today, DRM-infected products are routinely downgraded and bricked:

https://www.theverge.com/2024/9/5/24236237/ftc-software-tethering-letter-consumer-reports-ifixit

Even when companies face public uproar over these disastrous decisions and vow to reverse them, they can't, because these downgrades are one way:

https://www.stereocheck.com/news/music/unfortunately-you-cant-revert-to-the-old-sonos-app-anymore/

That's bad enough when it's your smart speakers, but what about when the company bricks your wheelchair:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2022/06/when-drm-comes-your-wheelchair

Or your $100,000 exoskeleton:

https://paulickreport.com/news/people/paralyzed-jockey-michael-straight-wants-to-keep-walking-but-manufacturer-wont-repair-exoskeleton

The reality is that we're living at the end of a catastrophic experiment in deregulation and its handmaidens, corruption and regulatory capture, and there are lots of "normal" things that we just need to stop doing. Not do less of them – just stop.

Like, the correct amount of collusion between realtors representing sellers and realtors representing buyers is zero:

https://www.latimes.com/business/real-estate/story/2024-03-19/realtor-rules-just-changed-dramatically-heres-what-buyers-and-sellers-can-expect

We got that one right, but there's plenty more that we're still engaged in this pathetic, denialist bargaining over. What's the correct degree to which White House officials should cycle back into working at the industries they oversaw? Zero. How many times should such a person come back to work at the White House? Again: zero:

https://prospect.org/power/2024-09-19-next-administration-can-stop-ethics-scandals/

When the Biden admin dropped its executive order on ethics just hours after the inauguration, they trumpeted that it "went further than any other towards slowing the revolving door and limiting conflicts of interest while in office":

https://www.whitehouse.gov/briefing-room/presidential-actions/2021/01/20/executive-order-ethics-commitments-by-executive-branch-personnel/

And it did. But it was also full of loopholes, because banning these conflicts of interest altogether was viewed as politically unserious, so the correct amount of radium up the administration's asshole was set at non-zero. The result? Well, it's about what you'd expect:

https://therevolvingdoorproject.org/what-the-hell-is-anita-dunn-even-allowed-to-work-on/

Congress hasn't updated consumer privacy law since 1988, when it took the bold step of…banning video-store clerks from telling the newspapers which VHS cassettes you took home. Since then, a coalition of commercial surveillance companies and the cops and spies who treat their data-lakes as massive, off-the-books anaerobic lagoons of warrantless surveillance data has prevented the passage of any new privacy protections for Americans.

The result? Stalkers, creeps, spies (both governmental and corporate), identity thieves, spearphishers and other villainous scum are running wild, endangering every American's financial, physical and political wellbeing. The correct amount of commercial data-brokerage for America is zero:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/12/06/privacy-first/#but-not-just-privacy

In other words, we should order every data-broker, every tech giant, every consumer electronics company and app vendor to delete all their surveillance data. All of it. The correct amount of radium in that asshole is – as with every other orifice zero:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/08/07/revealed-preferences/#extinguish-v-improve

From the perspective of the radium pitchmen, the most shocking thing about the past four years has been antitrust enforcers – like Lina Khan, Rohit Chopra, and Jonathan Kanter – who refused to bargain about how much radium we needed to stick up our butts. Fearless of being branded as "unserious" and "unreasonable," they seriously, reasonably said the right amount is none, actually.

None. Which is why they're so mad at Khan and co. Which is why they're so bent on getting Kamala Harris to fire Khan – despite the fact that this would burn precious political capital in the senate. Some people just love the feeling they get from a radium suppository – especially the suppository salesmen:

https://prospect.org/politics/2024-09-19-lina-khan-doesnt-need-to-be-confirmed-again/

The paperback edition of The Lost Cause, my nationally bestselling, hopeful solarpunk novel is out this month!

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/09/19/just-stop-putting-that-up-your-ass/#harm-reduction/a>

Image: Museum of the Health Sciences https://www.uab.edu/amhs/

[ohnoitstbskyen]

Often when people talk about appearance of characters in media, especially that of women, some use an argument along the lines of "Why would I want to look at someone ugly in the games I play/shows I watch/etc.?"

From what I saw, and if I'm not wrong, you prefer to not engage with that kind of argument, but if you absolutely had to, what answer would you give that could have a chance to make those people see and maybe agree with your point?

I mean, the reason why I wouldn't engage with that argument is that it is always, universally, without exception, an argument made in bad faith, by people who are lying when they utter it. And it takes only the briefest examination of reality to determine this.

The argument they pretend to make is that "there is no reason to desire things that are not pleasurable in entertainment," in response to which I present The Concept Of Horror Media, or the success of Jackass, or South Park, or literally any subversive prank show, or sports as a concept, or the genre of tragedy, or the phenomenon of people rubbernecking. I present true crime podcasts and biographies of John Wayne Gacy and Mortal Kombat fatalities, I present unflinchingly earnest documentaries about war and disease, I present cringe comedy, I present the entire online media genre of pimple popper videos.

Human beings desire so much more than beauty, so much more than aesthetic pleasure (and indeed we can take aesthetic pleasure in so much more than beauty). We find entertainment in disgust, horror, fear, revulsion, sorrow, embarrassment, pain and, yes, "ugliness" all the time, and we have done for as long as we have had sentient minds to entertain.

So this argument "why would I want to look at someone ugly in a video game" is simply a lie. It is an argument made in bad faith by people whom I will guarantee you against a bet of real money constantly look at things which are "ugly" for entertainment.

It is a lie, it is a stupid lie, and while I'm sure that many or most of the people who peddle that lie don't realize they are lying when they do it, it remains a lie which isn't worth dignifying with a response.

And anyway, 99% of the time they don't mean "ugly" they mean "woman who I don't find fuckable" or they mean "fat" or they mean "trans" or they mean "queer" or "non-white," they mean someone or some thing which falls into a category which they feel entitled to hate, and they are trying to enforce the normality of that hate.

You cannot logic someone out of a position they didn't logic themselves in to, and there is very rarely anything you can say to these people to make them reconsider. They are reacting emotionally, they are reacting on the impulse towards disgust and hatred, and they will rationalize a lie to excuse it.

[whatudowhennooneseesyou]

𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐢 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐍𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐀𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐬 (𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 & 𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐅𝐨𝐜𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝)

Disclaimer: This is for entertainment purposes only and should not be taken seriously. 18+

Methodology: Traditional and Whole Sign

Placements:

Leo Sun

Cancer Moon

Sagittarius Rising

Virgo Venus (retrograde)

Scorpio Mars

Is He A Fuckboi?

6/10

People who have a Virgo Venus can enjoy having sex without feelings involved so Mingi probably can be a fuckboi but his Cancer Moon would intervene and he would become emotionally dependent on you very quickly.

His Sagittarius/Jupiter influence means he has a high drive like super fucking high he can go all day if he had the opportunity.

So, I feel in his horny moments he could just fuck a random stranger but afterwards or when it's out of his system, he'd probably feel bad or low-key guilty about pursuing sex if there's no 'feelings' involved.

Red Flags:

Mommy Issues! Mingi is a huge Mommy's boy and he's mentioned in the past about how his relationship with his mother is the most important to him.

This is EXTREMELY common in men who have Cancer Moons and they usually grow up with a mother who 'babies' them and have a borderline codependent relationship with their mother.

So you might struggle with being accepted by his family and consistently fight for approval or validation from the women in his family.

Green Flags:

Your No 1 Support Person! You will feel like you haven't experienced as much support and hype energy from your loved ones like the support you'll experience from Mingi.

He will be devoted to you and worship you and do whatever he can in his power to ensure your life is easier and more enjoyable whenever you're with him.

Whilst Mingi is a high-maintenance partner, his presence as a boyfriend would have a healing impact on you and life will fill like a more positive experience when you're with him.

Ideal Type: If He's Into Women (Which I'm Damn Sure He Is)

Personality Traits:

Extroverted!!! He has a 5th House in Aries so he is attracted to women who are loud, outgoing, extroverted and are not afraid to speak up about their needs.

Mingi is someone who's a constant over thinker so he needs a partner who is okay with being upfront about what their needs and expectations are of him, it's why he has a strong friendship with Yunho because Yunho tells him what to do and he does it.

Protective!!! He really is low-key looking for someone who will embody a 'mother' role and ensure he feels safe, protected and cared for all the time.

If you look at heaps of fancalls with Mingi, the ones where you can tell he's invested in the Atiny are the ones who lead the fancall and just basically hype him up and froth over him.

Physical Traits:

Here's the Link to a fancall with an Atiny where he explicitly says 'you're my type' and you can TELL omg he looks like he wants to devour her in those remaining 30 seconds.

A feminine/girly aesthetic with a slight emo/punk twist combined with a masculine attitude is the best way to describe Mingi's type physically.

If you don't want to click the link, he says word for word to the Atiny 'look so amazing, black (he did say that but the Atiny muted it), and dark, and your accessory and outfit is so beautiful...yeah my type'.

The Atiny later revealed she's British and Dominican so the rumours of Mingi being attracted to women who are of a different ethnic background are probably true (a win is a win).

Sub, Switch Or Dom?

Mingi is a switch with a submissive preference and the only member of Ateez who has a submissive preference and would fall into the category of being an obedient and needy/clingy sub.

He has an 8th House Moon and these people are NASTY in the bedroom usually so his partner would have to be open to trying new things.

In a dominant position, Mingi would become a soft/service/pleasure dom and would probably still need a lot of reassurance even if he's taking the lead.

And men with a Scorpio Mars are the type to fuck and love passionately so whilst he's not a degrading/mean lover...he wouldn't necessarily be a gentle lover either because he struggles with verbally expressing his love for you so he's going to ensure you know he loves you in another way.

Which usually manifests in him fucking you so deep your hips bruise, legs are shaky and there's an ache in between your thighs the next day.

Speaking of thighs...

Kinks: (Just A Few)

Ass and Thigh play!!!

Mingi is an arse and thigh guy all the way, he loves seeing your arse jiggle as he fucks you doggy style and leave hand prints all over your cheeks.

Would enjoy a late night lovemaking session where he can hit it from the side and squeeze and play with your thighs as he fills you with his love.

He'd enjoy pulling out and covering your arse with his sticky cum, watching it drizzle down your thighs while he takes a few sneaky pics for his phone collection.

You think he's been a bad boy and want to punish him? It hurts his feelings that he can't fuck you but he'd be more than okay with pushing his dick in between your thighs and just getting off in that way.

And don't think this is just for you no honey, this goes both ways.

You riding his thighs? Using him like a personal toy just to get yourself off? He'd have to force himself from not cumming in his pants with how hard it would make him.

Scratch his thighs, smack his arse, you can low-key bite the meat of his arse and leave a bruise there and he would enjoy it all the same.

You just need to validate him and tell him how good he is, how proud you are of him, how wet he makes you feel.

'Look how wet you made me right now mmmh? You deserve a reward for being such a good princess for me right?'

On a more taboo level, Mingi could also be into kinks like anal, arse play (both giving and receiving), rimming, and I think in the right environment he'd even let you peg him.

Just ensure he receives the most immaculate aftercare, allow him to do the same to you and he'll never leave your side.

He's tied to you for life.

I won't be publishing anything in September because I'll be writing for Kinktober so pls enjoy this longer post!

It's been a struggle for me to stay motivated on here because my last few posts have flopped with receiving attention and/or interest...considering how long I have been on here.

So adieu until October!

Taglist: @scuzmunkie @marievllr-abg @umbralhelwolf @starsareseen @lino-jagiyaa @mischiefsmind @mrcarrots @junieshohoho @gyuhanniescarat @partywithgyu @whatsk-poppinhomies @hologramhoneymoon @staytinyinmybpack @necessiteez @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @berryberrytan @laylasbunbunny @bangchanbabygirlx @i-love-ateez @anyamaris @krishastumblernow @hexheathen @michel-angelhoe @northerngalxy @justaaveragereader @ja3hwa @silentreaderthings @daddysspecialdollyworld @abby-grace @wisejudgedragonhairdo @smilefordongil @writhingwrecked @hongthoven @youre-alittle-taste-of-hell

[actually-safer-to-kiss]

Girlfriend Interrupted

Summary: Reader had a bad day at work and Spencer's complaints are not the best timing.

Couple: Spencer/Fem!Reader

Category: Hurt/comfort

Content warnings: Mentions of food, hunger, and prolonged time without eating

Word count: 887

The bus rumbles across the old asphalt and bricked crosswalks while hissing at stops. All you could do was lay your head against the window and try not to fall asleep or accidentally smash it into the glass after hitting a precarious pothole. You were three stops away from home and all you wanted to do was lock yourself in the apartment and gorge on the least healthy meal you could find. 

You had a healthy meal planned for lunch today actually; a salad filled to the nines (the nines being roasted chicken, nuts, pomegranate, and honeydew). It was perfect. So perfect in fact that someone stole it from the fridge when you were in the middle of beating a deadline. And even after being successful in that, your boss still found time to yell at you for something another co-worker did. You weren’t sure which one, but it wasn’t you. You’ve been nibbling on a granola bar on the ride, but your mind is occupied by the leftover lasagna in the fridge.

And you find it there, waiting for you under the stark refrigerator light. You yank it from the bottom shelf and don’t even consider looking at the microwave. You barely looked at the dishes you left in the sink after breakfast this morning and remember how behind you were when getting ready for work, telling yourself you’d put them in the dishwasher before Spencer got home. You did say you’d do that. And Spencer doesn’t like dishes in the sink.

 Instead, you grab the blanket from the back of the couch and settle in the dark, pulling up a YouTube video you’ve been meaning to watch. You rest your phone against the book spines Spencer had specifically picked out to be displayed for their guests (mainly your parents during the holidays and his co-workers). Most of them are about astronomy, nothing you’ve cared to pick up. They’re detailed enough to keep Spencer entertained and sturdy enough to keep your phone upright while you slurped up tomato sauce and ricotta cheese. And so you snuggled in like a kid watching Saturday cartoons, sugary cereal at the ready.

And it’s when you think of your boyfriend again that the door behind you opens with a creak. The thud of his cane echoes across the wood floor as that same door clicks as he shuts it. You manage to say “Hey, Spence” through your glorious mouthful of a rushed dinner. But Spencer says nothing back. He’s been struggling not just with his knee acting up again after his previous surgery, but with being unable to travel with his team. The thud of Spencer’s cane trails from the entryway to the kitchen. It was a tough day for both of you, no doubt.

Your sympathies started to wane though when Spencer interrupted your video.

“Ugh, Y/N. I told you I don’t like dishes in the sink.”

“I know.” You tried to say without a mouthful. “And I’m sorry. I was running late for work and needed to get going before—”

“And you left the fridge door open, too. We talked about needing to cut back before our lease renewal. The National Weather Service expects an uptick in accumulation by late December.”

You pause your video and turn in your seat. “Sorry, I was going to do it when I got home, but I needed to eat because someone stole—”

“And you’re eating the lasagna from the tray? We have clean bowls. You could easily grab one from—”

“Let me talk!” You ended up shouting. It was sudden for both of you. You’re never one to raise your voice and Spencer has never been one to fuck up bad enough to witness it. It forces Spencer to freeze in place, like that accumulation he talked about just rushed through the apartment on your command. It would be funny if it was some sort of command if you already weren’t teetering on the edge of tears. The sting in your nose already started traveling to your eyes. They welled up and Spencer quickly became a blur as you started to sob, the trials of a bad day finally getting to you. You let your chest heave and tears streak down your cheeks, hoping at least a portion of the stress will subside afterward.

You didn’t expect Spencer to be right next to you. You didn’t hear his cane once on the floor. It was against the arm of the couch. And he was on the floor, resting on his knees. Of course, you’re too distressed to point out that is the last thing he should be doing if he wants to avoid more surgery so badly. Plus he’s busy with taking the meal off of your lap. “Come here,” he tells you. He’s holding your hands. His hands are just as frigid as the lasagna. But he pulls you up as he tries to stand, meeting you on (somewhat) equal footing to bring you into a hug. It’s warm, obviously. All of his hugs are warm. He wears cotton-only cardigans and wears layers of clothes even at the peak of summer. “I’m sorry.” He says. “Just let it out. I’m here.”

“Spence. Your knee.”

“It’s fine.”

“You need to—”

“Be here. Which I am.” And he holds you tighter.

[mylittleredgirl]

i’m tom paris neutral but i have a few followers who might love to tear into that guy for op’s benefit

Voyager fandom, please explain to me why you hate Tom Paris.

Genuinely asking after seeing the results of that poll. Please, gimme the reasons.

[uniquepeanutcreatorfire]

Character Archetypes in HH/HB

As I watched both shows, I realized that characters typically fell into specific roles. Note, some may fall into more than one category and there are some exceptions to these.

The Loveable Jerk

Usually the main protagonist/male character

Goofy, loud, crude, chaotic, horny

Creator's pet/Fan favorite

Their bad actions are seen as lighthearted or comedic

Have a sad backstory and/or daddy issues

The show's narrative frames them in a sympathetic light or misunderstood

It's never their fault

The Bad Guy

Is there so you can cheer on the Loveable Jerk

Evil for evil's sake

ALWAYS one-dimensional/note

Their actions are seen as immoral and monstrous

Used for shock value or to deal with serious topics

No redeeming qualities, complexities, or sad backstory here

Start off intimidating but get more incompetent later

Either entertaining or annoying

The Female Character

They're just there.

Often one-dimensional/trait; Lack screentime, focus, depth, etc.

Their purpose revolves around a male character/main protagonist

Usually either a sweetheart, badass, or bitch

What they lack in personality, they make up with in sexy merch and fanart

The Butt Monkey

The show's punching bag

Actually a decent person

It's funny to see them get harassed or violated. If it happens to the loveable jerk though, then it's treated seriously.

The Background Character

Where the diversity and more interesting designs are

[written-in-flowers]

The Newbie: OT8 X Male!Reader

Pairing(s): ot8 x male!reader | side pairing(s): hyunjin x changbin, han x minho, but mentions of everybody fucking everybody.

Genre: Smut, slight angst, slight fluff | au: idolverse, idol!au | MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Word Count: 11k

Summary: After being taken out of a few groups, you had nearly given up on your dreams of debuting as an idol. But, when you get chosen to take a spot in Stray Kids, more than your debut dreams will come true.

Tags: Polyamory, polycule, mxm, male!reader, Mentions/implications of homophobia, mention of Woojin, angst, group sex, orgy, threesome (mmm), heavy dirty talk, blowjobs, handjobs, nipple play, walking in on someone, voyeurism, exhibitionism, mutual pining/thirsting, slight internalized homophobia, mentions of sexual encounters, multiple sex rounds, top!Chan, top!Changbin, top!Minho, switch!Felix, switch!Seungmin, bottom!Jeongin, bottom!Han, switch!reader, bigdick!reader, unprotected sex (wrap it). everyone is horny and perverted lol

Disclaimer: This work is completely fictitious and for entertainment purposes only. They are not meant to reflect or label the members of Stray Kids in any way. The events within never took place. Thank you.

Next on Newbie!

***

It’s never easy being the new guy, especially in an established, popular Idol group. The fans already knew the main members, so they’re less likely to take to a newbie fresh from training. The members always carry a brotherly bond that could be hard to penetrate. Management will be accustomed to the usual number of members, and stylists will have trouble styling you for a while.  You could often be forgotten, considering everyone is used to X amount of members without a plus one. 

You knew too well what being The Newbie was like. You’d been added to three separate idol groups before being thrown into Stray Kids. Each one became harder to blend into than the last. Each head manager considered you a “bad fit” for the groups’ concept or vibe; they’d say you didn’t have the right sound or not enough training. Yet, a tiny voice inside you said that wasn't true. When you get caught looking at your fellow members or showing an interest more than platonic, managers tend to get nervous. Thinking about those times, you regretted letting it slip. You should have kept a tighter hold on who you are and what you liked. 

You'd learned your lesson after Beomgyu. 

You almost gave up on debuting completely before JYPE gave you another chance with a very popular group. According to them, they’d recently lost a member due to a scandal, so they needed a replacement quickly. You had no idea why they chose you, but you didn’t question it too much. This could be the break you needed. 

“Don’t sweat it, dude,” Chan had told you on your first day. “You’re going to do great.”

This only worsened your nerves as he led you into the practice room. The tests. Even if they’d already chosen you, there’s always skill tests. You knew they meant nothing bad by it. Every group has units, and they need to know where to stick The Newbie. Are you a good dancer? A good singer? A good rapper? All rounder? You liked to think you did well in each category. You’d been a trainee for eight years. 

“Guys, YN’s here.” 

The group turned in your direction when you followed Chan inside. You stood apprehensively near him as their eyes landed on you. The other groups often judged you from afar, sizing you up and making their decisions right away. Yet, this group seemed to light up at the sight of you. They all stood up from their positions on the floor or couch and walked over to you. Friendly. Polite. Slightly formal still. You took in each of them, and they were…

Gorgeous. Absolutely gorgeous. Even barefaced in casual practice clothes, their looks blew you away. You kept your interest to yourself, but you couldn’t help noticing the tiny features. When he approached you, you decided blond-haired Felix’s freckles were his most charming feature. Changbin’s muscles made him a drool-worthy sight, and you immediately imagined grabbing onto them. Hyunjin’s cat-like eyes and sharp features eclipsed any model or actor you’d ever met before. How could you focus with so many handsome men around you? Especially nice ones who took you under their wing right away?

‘No, don’t do that. You’re not guaranteed a spot here. Act creepy and they’ll kick you out too. Maybe even worse.’

“How long have you been a trainee?” asked Felix, stretching before practice started.

“Eight years,” he said. “I was in some groups, but it never really worked out.”

“They disbanded?”

“No, they just decided I wasn’t a good fit for them.” 

“They kicked you out?” he asked, eyes widened. “Just because you didn’t fit?”

“Yeah,” you sighed, stretching your arm across your chest. It sounded worse being said out loud. The embarrassment hit your cheeks, and you tried not showing it. 

“Well, don’t worry, YN,” he said, bending his body. “You’ll fit in here. Trust me.”

His wink brought butterflies to your stomach and Minho called for attention. He told the group he wanted to teach you the moves to older songs as a warm up. The swarm of nerves inside your stomach strengthened, but once things started, you forced yourself to focus on Minho’s movements. He moved so fluidly, able to match whatever speed or vibe he was meant to go for. You copied him exactly, trying to ignore the members watching intently from nearby. You needed to impress them. Even if you didn’t join their dance unit, you wanted to show your best sides. When the song ended, the group members clapped.

“That was great!” Minho smiled. “You did really well for your first time.”

“Thanks,” you grinned, pushing hair from your face.

“You should have him do ‘Hellevator’,” Changbin suggested. Chan nudged him gently, earning soft disbelieving giggles from the others. “What?” he asked innocently. “It’s a good song and I think he’d nail it.”

You weren’t sure what their reaction meant, but you decided to take on the challenge. Minho first showed you the moves a step at a time, then took it a step faster each round. The other members occasionally whispered to one another, but they mainly watched. Your chest tightens seeing them eye you so attentively. Close observation is normal in these instances, yet something else hid behind their stares. When you rolled your hips at one point, you swore Changbin bit his lower lip. You realized how it might look in your fitted black shirt and loose black sweatpants. Yet, you maintained your focus. You mirrored Minho’s movements easily, an expert at dance due to years of training. You earned applause when you finished the last round with music on your own.

“You’re an amazing dancer,” Minho said, clapping for you. “How long have you been dancing?”

“Since I was eight or nine,” you answered. “I took dance classes in school, and studied it at university.”

“It shows,” he nodded, hands on hips and sweat already on his body. “I think we can move on to our new song, yeah?”

“Sure.”

He called on the other members, and dance practice began for real. Their comeback slowly approached, they wanted you to know all the new dances before then. A little voice in your head told you it was pointless in the end. A manager or member will eventually say they think you’re crap and kick you out; they’ll notice your lingering stares or catch on to your interest in them. You’ve wanted nothing more than to debut in a group. Singing and music have always been a part of your life. You sang all the time. You took dance and singing lessons with hopes of one day getting to be on a big stage. It was meant to be your destiny. You couldn’t see yourself doing anything else but this; it’s all you had. You hoped with time they’ll see how much you love what you do, and that you’d do anything to stay in the group. 

“I don’t get how you didn’t make it in those other groups,” said Chan, wiping sweat from his face as practice ended hours later. “You’re an incredible performer. I saw some videos you posted online of you dancing, singing and rapping.”

You smiled shyly, “You saw those?”

“I had to after seeing you with the other trainees,” he said. You both left together to the cafeteria, “We’ve been looking for a ninth member for a while, but nobody really caught my eye until the trainee choreographer told me about you.”

“Hyunshik told you about me?” you asked, surprised and flattered.

“Yeah. I asked if anyone he trained stuck out to him and he brought up your name, so I looked you up. I sent the links to the other members and they agreed with me. How those groups let a total ace slip through their fingers is beyond me,” he snorted. “I’m looking forward to seeing you in the studio, though. You have an incredible voice.”

“It’s okay,” you said sheepishly.

“Don’t be so modest,” Changbin came up beside you, grinning softly. Fluffy black curls hung in his face, which he pushed back with his hand. “I saw your covers and you have a lot of talent. Your voice fits in with our style, and Innie and Seungmin could use a third in their unit.”

“You really think so?”

“Yeah, I do,” he said sincerely. “I wonder what’s for lunch. I’m freaking starving.”

“You’re always starving,” Chan joked.

“Wait, you were in other groups before us?” asked Han from behind you. “Which ones?”

“ZeroZeroTwo, Goldeye, and Galax1,” you said, your stomach dropping remembering each one. “They’re not super big groups, but…yeah, it just didn’t work out.”

“Those guys are jerks anyways,” he scoffed. “They must’ve seen you were too good for them and kicked you out from jealousy. Don’t worry, dude,” he clapped a hand on your shoulder, “You’ll do great with us.”

Their reassurances should have lifted your worries, but they remained weighed down anyways. Things always started off good and turned sour quickly. You did your best not to memorize Han’s comforting shoulder-clap or Changbin’s pretty curls. It was hard in particular to not notice Chan, whose dimples came out in his reassuring smiles. Those kind smiles can easily turn into scowls with the wrong word or look. 

“If it makes you feel better,” said Chan, “I was a trainee for eight years before I finally debuted.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I trained like crazy, and kept falling out of groups until Stray Kids happened,” you both entered the cafeteria where you saw members already grabbing food. “I didn’t see the point of making attachments either, but this isn’t that. You’re going to do well here. I’ll help you. Plus,” he grinned, “It’s not like you don’t already have fans. I saw your following on Tiktok and Instagram. Have you told them you joined us?”

“No. I don’t want to make a big deal about it until I debut.”

If you debut with them, that is. You didn’t want to disappoint the small following you’d built in your time between groups. You’d done it with hopes the company would let you debut as a soloist instead of part of a group, but it never caught their eye. 

You grabbed food down the line, and that was when you heard your name whispered nearby. Minho and Jeongin stood grabbing food, and your stomach churned.

“…What if he isn’t? That can really backfire on us if he’s not,” said Jeongin.

“Chan said he is, and I trust Chan.”

“But what if-”

“-We’ll see with time, Innie. Just keep it together.”

“Tell that to Felix-hyu-”

You blocked off their conversation, moving to the drink station. Did they already worry you wouldn’t work out for them? Though, you learned the context when you sat in front of Minho. 

The nine of you were the only ones in your corner of the cafeteria, with staff sitting farther away. They likely did it to give the boys time to get to know you alone. The questions started innocently enough: where were you from, what did your family do, did you see them often, where did you go to school, etc. It was Minho’s sudden question that put you off your meal.

“Is it true you like dudes?”

The other members gasped and Chan, sitting next to him, smacked his arm. “Minho, seriously, dude?”

“Hey, it’s a fair question,” he defended. “Nobody sugar coated it when they asked me! They just went, ‘hey kid, do you like dick? Yes or no?’”

“Me too,” laughed Changbin, pouring more sauce on his food. "They told me I didn’t have to answer, but they definitely made it sound like I had to.”

“They asked you guys?” asked Jeongin from down the table, a bit confused. “They didn’t ask me.”

“Because you were a minor, and it would’ve been inappropriate,” Chan answered. “They told me they didn’t ask you, Hyunjin, Han, Felix or Seungmin because you were minors.” He turned to Minho again, “I was going to ask him in the dorm where nobody else can hear his answer. You don’t have to answer that right now, YN. Just pretend he didn’t ask.”

“I figured I ask since people talk about it,” said Minho. 

“Who talks about it?” you asked, no longer interested in eating.

“Beomgyu from ZeroZeroTwo said it,” he said. “We see each other around the practice rooms and when I mentioned you joining our group, he said to be careful around you. When I asked what he meant, he said you were gay. He said you always acted weird around him, and that you’d check them out in the group showers after working out.”

Beomgyu. You should have known. Your crush on him started off slowly. The two of you shared a love for music and poetry; you liked nature, books, and art. You worked on songs together, producing tracks that would go on the group’s first album. Gradually, Beomgyu became a special person to you. Something about him drew you closer, and you thought he might’ve felt the same way. You were wrong. He made that known with his fist.

“And Chaeyeol from Goldeye said he always caught you checking him out,” said Hyunjin. “It’s totally cool if you did,” he said comfortingly. He gave a playful smile, “I've checked him out too.”

“YN, you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,” said Chan, clearly embarrassed and worried about your reaction. “I promise my members,” he glared at Minho, “Aren’t normally this out of line.”

“Would you prefer to keep dancing around him about it or be direct?” Minho asked. “I prefer being direct about it to get it out of the way. What if I’d flirted with him and it turned out he wasn’t into dudes?”

You gulped picturing that scenario.

“What if we had another Woojin situation?” He asked, a seriousness to his tone as he eyed Chan. “You remember what he did to Felix when he found out? Because I’m sure Felix does.”

You noticed Felix grow quiet, pushing meat around with his chopsticks. Seungmin touched his wrist tenderly, thumb rubbing the side of his hand. Your heart hung heavy for him as you thought of your own encounter. 

‘Don’t fucking touch me again, weirdo. I don’t want to catch whatever you have.’ 

“And what he said he’d do if we didn’t pay him out of his contract? We were lucky those accusations came out and we were able to stop him,” he continued. “What if YN wasn’t gay and he walks in on me and Han? Or Seungmin and Jeongin? Or Changbin and Hyunjin? Or any of us with one another? Okay, so it was a bit blunt to ask like this here, but it’s a fair question, hyung. I don’t want that happening again because we played the guessing game instead of asking.” 

“But here, Minho? He’s only been here four or five hours.”

“Yeah, but I’d like to know if the rumors are true.”

“What if it turns out he is and fans found out before we did?” Hyunjin answered. “They only like the idea of shipping us because they think it’s not true. If it was, it could make things worse.” 

“Alright, alright,” Chan conceded, “You guys are right, but still…”

“YN,” Changbin spoke up, seeing your uncomfortable shifting, “If you feel uncomfortable with this, we can talk about it later when we’re in the dorm.”

“I’d prefer that,” you answered honestly, suddenly aware of everyone watching you.

“Okay,” he nodded. “Later, then.”

The group dropped the subject, and Felix asked you about your BTS dance cover video. You thought about the inevitable confrontation later in your new dorm. Had you been picked because of those “rumors”? From what the other members said, their sexuality played a part in their future. You wondered why, but did not want to ask.

When you arrived at the dorm with your belongings later on, the group all sat in the living room as if waiting for you. Management said you’d be living with Jeongin and Seungmin since they had a spare room left, but it appeared the other members visited. Felix, Changbin and Hyunjin played a video game on the large television, while the other members talked on the couches. 

In the privacy of their dorm, you saw the members’ interactions change. Minho and Han sat close together, giggling and talking quietly in their own world over drinks. Jeongin sat with his legs over Chan’s lap as the two played a game on their phones. Hyunjin sat between Changbin’s legs on the floor, clearly comfortable being so intimately close; Felix beside him between Seungmin’s knees, completely ignoring his advice in helping win the game. You’d never seen such closeness in the other groups. It appeared mildly affectionate and intimate in comparison to ZeroZeroOne or Goldeye. 

“YN,” Chan noticed you first, detangling himself from Jeongin to meet you by the door, “I thought you were moving in tomorrow?”

“Management said I should move in as soon as possible,” you shrugged, “So then we can start bonding and stuff.”

He chuckled, “Alright, cool. I’ll show you where you’re sleeping.”

He brought you down a hall to a room that had a large bed and plenty of storage space with a television. The desk looked like a good place for your laptop and producing equipment; the space between bed and opposite wall might be big enough for some solo practices. A wide window, covered by white curtains, showed a high view of the city below. It was nicer than your previous dorms.

“What do you think?” he asked, sounding nervous.

“It’s nice,” you answered.

“Jeongin and Seungmin are good roomies, so you shouldn’t clash with them if you’re a quiet person.”

“I’m not particularly loud. I just work on music really.”

“Yeah, I saw you produce your own music on your Instagram,” he nodded. “You write a lot too, right?” 

“I do. I wrote a lot of music for ZeroZeroOne.” 

“That’s awesome. Maybe we can, you know, work on them in the studio sometime? We’re still putting together our album list for this comeback, so we can go over them. I think Stays will like seeing that you write and produce too.”

Your cheeks warmed at the idea of being included in such an integral part. You’d heard Stray Kids wrote their own songs, and that appealed to you. It seemed important to them. 

“Look,” Chan said, coming further into the room, “I’m sorry about what happened in the cafeteria. I didn’t want them confronting you like that and making you think I only picked you for that reason. I didn’t.”

“It was still a factor.”

“The least important of them,” he insisted. “Minho had a point, but I didn’t want them scaring you off.”

“That Woojin guy really tried blackmailing you?”

“Yeah,” he sighed defeatedly. “He’d told the producers of our show he was gay to get into the group, so we thought he was like us. But then, Felix came onto him and, well, yeah. It didn’t end pretty. We were going to pay him until some people made accusations towards him, and the company got rid of him.” He hesitated, “I personally think JYPE paid those people to say that about him, since anything he said against us afterwards would be dismissed as retaliation and not a fact. But, we can keep that between us,” he said. He came over to you, “But…Are you really into guys?”

Nobody actually asked you before. Not your parents, who seemed to know and accept it. Not close friends, who may have suspected but preferred not breaching the subject. Not other trainees, who’d rather hit you than ask. The skeptic in you surveyed the leader from afar. Sincerity, anxiousness, and perhaps a bit of hope flashed in his eyes. Something about him made you comfortable to actually answer.

“Yeah, I am.”

He sighed in relief, “Oh, okay, cool. Great. Really great.” He swung his arms awkwardly, then said, “Um, so you can just get settled in and when you’re ready we can, you know, hang or whatever.”

You packed the few possessions you had from your last dorm into drawers. You finished setting up your computer and music equipment before going back into the living room. Jeongin had left Chan’s side to fix snacks in the open kitchen, which led to the leader patting the spot next to him. This was it. The awkward ‘getting-to-know-you’ phase every newbie suffers that first day. Staring around, the other members continued with their various activities. You thought of initiating conversation with one of them, but you couldn’t get the words out. The closer you became, the more leaving would hurt.

“Do you play games, YN?” Felix asked, plugging in an extra controller.

“Yeah,” you nodded.

“Awesome, me too,” he handed you the controller.

“He’s not great at it,” Chan told you, “But he’s got the spirit.”

“I’ve gotten better!” Felix said, blushing at the collective snickering. “You can play on my team. These guys have been ganging up on me.”

“I’m not the best at shooters, but I can attempt to help?” You didn’t want them thinking you lied about your gaming skills.

“Good, we can be bad together,” he smirked with another butterfly inducing wink.

“I bet you both can be very bad together,” sneered Hyunjin, the suggestion thick in his words. He laughed at Changbin’s nudging knee, “What? I meant in the game. Bunch of pervs…get your minds out of the gutter.”

“Maybe if you made some room in the gutter,” Changbin smiled, “We could join you, pretty,” he bent to kiss the crown of Hyunjin’s head. 

“Do you have a boyfriend, YN?” Felix asked you, seeing you watching the couple. 

“Huh?”

“A boyfriend,” he said. “Are you seeing anybody?”

“A boyfriend? Um, well, no,” you answered. “I dated a guy I was training with when I joined the company,” you admitted. “But then we broke up when he debuted.”

“Is that the only boyfriend you’ve had?”

“No, I’ve dated other guys.”

You realized this was the most you’d ever openly discussed your sexuality. Checking around the room, the others did not show a single ounce of disgust at your words. Nobody stood up to hit or throttle you. They had the same interest as a group of friends listening to a friend tell a story. 

“But, it was in high school,” you continued. “When I started focusing on training, I didn’t date much.” Mostly to avoid detection rather than not wanting companionship.

“Neither did I,” said Chan. “I spent too much time working on my skills to seriously date anyone. I didn’t really have the time back then.” He paused, “That trainee…Did you really like him or was it just hooking up after practice or whatever?”

“I liked him,” you took a shot at Hyunjin, but missed and you hissed when he got a headshot. “But, it was a long time ago so I’m not stuck on him or anything anymore.”

You didn’t want to think about Jihwan. It hurt too much. You’d both come up in the trainee ranks together; you’d hoped to debut together in the same group, but it didn’t happen. They said you needed to work on your stage presence still and that your voice couldn’t hit the needed high notes. Jihwan didn’t like it either, but he really wanted to debut. Rather than keep a strain on the relationship, you both ended things. Your heart weighed down into your stomach thinking about Jihwan’s teary eyes, and how his voice cracked when he finally said it. All you’d wanted to do then was kiss his tears away; you wanted to tell him you’d always think of him.

It still hurts whenever you see him on television.

“Well, trust me,” Felix said, “You’ll be totally over Jihwan after you’ve spent some time with us. We’ve been told we’re a very horny bunch.”

“Too horny, sometimes,” muttered Chan. “I had to put a ban on studio sex because they kept getting distracted during recording,” he told you, sounding annoyed. 

“That ban doesn’t apply to personal studios,” Changbin said, eyes on the screen. “Just so you know, YN.” 

“Mine is always open,” said Han, “To my members.” 

“If you keep talking like that, I’m getting the belt,” warned Minho, who typed on his phone. 

“What?” Han said innocently. “I’m only telling him if he ever wants to talk about our music or anything else, my studio is always open. Don’t worry,” he pouted at Minho, “You know you’re my favorite hyung. I wouldn’t do it without you.” 

“You better not, brat,” Minho chuckled, grabbing him and kissing his temple. 

You couldn’t stop a giggle from coming out, nor the shyness in your smile. The idea you’d joined a group of guys who liked the same things as you sounded too good to be true. They’re surely messing around with you. There’s no way they actually mean anything they’re saying. This is probably their soft-initiation or a way of joking with the new guy. It wouldn’t be the first time. 

They’re only joking. 

****

“Oh yeah, he’s a pervert for sure.”

“You couldn’t possibly know that, Minho.”

“I’m telling you. It’s always the quiet ones. You weren’t there, Binnie.”

Chan managed tuning out his members’ conversation while he worked. He’d finally got the right melody for the track, but he wanted to rearrange things before sharing. As he put things together, your name pulled him from deep in his head. 

“What was he doing?” asked Hyunjin from his seat on the couch. 

“Jerking off.”

“In a hallway?!”

The picture came to Chan far too easily: you standing by the practice room door, hand in your shorts and mouth hanging open in your silent moans. Minho told everyone the story over group text (minus you), and his members could not have been more excited about it. A barrage of questions came once Han and Minho entered the studio the following day. You’ve only been with them a month now, and while you’d slowly integrated into the fold, there’d been things he forbade them to bring up. Clearly, talking openly about your sexuality still made you anxious and uncomfortable. He didn’t want you to leave the group because his members couldn’t keep their pants on.

“God, that’s actually super hot,” said Changbin, pulling out his own notes from his bag. “Do you think he’d do it in the gym? I’ve always wanted to do that.”

“Don’t ask him,” said Chan for what felt like the millionth time that month.

“I wouldn’t, but,” he smirked, “He did get a boner watching me in the gym.”

Another ‘YN-is-a-pervert’ story: Changbin invited you to work out with him and you had done your best to hide your erection from him afterwards. He claimed you’d gotten off in the showers. Chan gulped thickly. You in the shower, soap sliding down your body as you lathered your naked skin was a sinful image. He forced himself to focus on the music. It’s studio time. It’s recording time. He couldn’t let thoughts of your naked body writhing from his gentle touches cloud his thoughts.

“And you did not offer a hand, hyung?” Hyunjin teased.

“He sounded really into it, and I didn’t want to ruin his fun by catching him. The dude clams up the moment anyone mentions doing anything remotely gay with him,” Changbin said.

“Internalized homophobia,” said Minho, scrolling on his phone. “I think those groups kicked him out because they found out he was gay.”

“Oh, come on Minho-”

“-Explain how someone as talented as him hasn’t debuted?” He cut him off. “The dude is an all-rounder. He’d be any group’s Ace member. Yet, here he is, getting kicked out because he ‘didn’t fit in’? Give me a break. They probably found out about him, and dismissed him.”

“Poor guy,” said Changbin with a frown. “That must suck.”

“But we’ve shown we’re not like that,” said Jeongin from beside Hyunjin. “I’ve definitely shown it to him when I let him watch me get undressed.”

The tale of YN the Pervert continued with the newest installment. Jeongin said you’d walked in on him changing in the morning, and closed the door right away. Except, you did not close the door completely. Jeongin’s door was next to his bed which his mirror reflected. He said he caught you still looking through the crack in the door. Rather than shame you, Jeongin stripped completely and gave you something to watch. Chan wondered briefly if you liked watching more than participating. In that case, he’d perform for you whenever and with whoever you wanted.

Work time. Studio time. Not YN time.

“Maybe he thinks we’re baiting him?” Hyunjin suggested. “Like how straight guys will pretend to be gay and then beat the crap out of a gay guy?”

“He can’t possibly think that.”

“He thinks it’ll cause a scandal and he’ll get kicked out,” said Chan, wanting to end the conversation and all visions of you naked on his bed.

“What?”

“If he’s been kicked out for being gay before, he will likely do whatever he can to avoid it happening again so he can finally debut.”

Chan knew how that felt. He had to hide in the closet for most of his life, knowing to reveal his real sexuality would ruin his future. It still could if the wrong people found out. They’re lucky JYPE is good at cover-ups and has plenty of hush money. Chan didn’t seek out gay men because he wanted a little harem like the others joked. He did it to finally be himself. He doesn’t have to hide with his members; they don’t hide with him. In the privacy of their studios, practice rooms, and dorms, they can be themselves. He hoped you might sense that and get more comfortable. It appeared your issues went deeper than the rest.

“I wish I knew how to make him more comfortable with us,” said Hyunjin with a small frown. “Not for sex, but, you know, he’s one of us now. I’d like him to stay.”

“Stays are already so excited we’re getting a new member, even if they haven’t seen him,” said Minho. “It’d break their hearts if he left before they got a chance to meet him. He’s so sweet.”

Yes, you were. You were sweet, compassionate, gentle-hearted, and you loved what you did. Chan saw all the effort you put into everything you did. He’d gotten to listen to some of your originals, and you’d worked on them together to make them better. He particularly liked listening to your singing. You completing Vocalracha was a no brainer when they first heard you sing. Your soft, angelic voice reminded Chan of siren songs, drawing in the listener and enthralling them completely. He’d gotten into the habit of listening to your covers and originals while he worked out or laid in bed at night. It calmed him. 

He wondered if your moans sounded as heavenly.

No, Chan. WORK TIME.

“Work time,” he said, clasping his hands. “Hyunjin, let’s start with your part.”

All conversation about you died in the wake of recording. He knew you’d be arriving soon to record your parts, then he’d be tortured by your beautiful voice and heart-melting eyes. He could at least use this time to get a good chunk of work done.

“We should throw him a party,” said Changbin, slumped on the couch beside Minho as he listened to Hyunjin’s recording. “After the comeback,” he continued when people looked at him, “To celebrate his debut. You know, take him out for dinner and drinks. Wine and dine him a little before we all kiss him.”

“Nobody is kissing him.”

“Unless he asks,” he added.

“Yeah, if he asks Chan first, then we can all kiss him,” Minho smirked at Chan’s back.

To kiss you would be the best part of the night. In his head, it didn’t lead to rough, feral sex. It led to passionate, slow, gentle sex on his bed. He’d take time memorizing your figure, making note of your sensitive zones to take advantage of later on. He’d keep you as comfortable as possible. The idea of bringing you to orgasm over and over made his mouth water. He sipped from his coffee with hopes the temperature cooled his warm cheeks. Still, Chan saw images of his lips on your nipples or his hands roaming your soft body. He heard your voice calling him ‘Daddy’ and begging for more of him. You’re the most beautiful man he’s ever seen, and he’s slept with both Hyunjin and Felix. Usually, when he thirsted after a guy, a quick hook up immediately took them out of his system. Yet, he suspected it’d be different with you. He knew once he tasted you, he’d want nobody else.

“You need a minute or two, bro?” Changbin laughed, seeing Chan pushing his tongue under his lip. “Don’t be embarrassed. He makes me hard too.”

“Hyunjin,” Chan called to the singer, pushing the booth button, “Let’s do those last two lines again.”

“I think he’s probably as perverted as you, Chan-hyung,” said Han. “If not more.”

“Impossible,” Jeongin said, “Nobody’s as pervy as our Channie-hyung.”

“Work time, please,” he said, focusing on Hyunjin’s voice and following along on his page.

“I wonder what kind of porn he watches,” Han mused out loud. “Unless he makes his own?”

“That’d be hot,” said Minho.

“Work. Time. Guys.”

“He can film me,” Jeongin admitted. “I don’t mind being watched.”

“Me neither,” Han agreed. “I can give him tons of smut conte-”

“-Okay, if you’re not recording right now, get out,” ordered Chan, trying not to envision holding up his phone as you rode him in bed.

No, not in bed. Let him pound you against a wall in front of the practice room mirrors. He’d bend you over gym equipment; fuck you in a pool, in a sauna, in a car or a public restroom. You’d suck him off in alleyways wearing a mini skirt and a crop top. You spread out on a couch, his cum leaking out of you after he’d blown his load inside you. He’d fuck you everywhere: In hotel rooms, on the beach, in the park, or in other people’s houses. Chan thought he might combust sitting there. 

“I’m a producer,” argued Han.

“You can produce later,” he replied. “Go. Now.” 

He’d love to be special to you. Chan liked the thought of going on dates with you just as much. You’d sit across from him, wearing one of your fluffy sweaters and giggling at something he said. He loved your laugh. It was the cutest thing. Cute coffee dates, walking along the river together, taking nature walks or sitting in the park on nice spring days became some of his favorite daydreams. Chan normally liked the simple hook up or a situationship, but you? He couldn't do that. Whenever you looked at him with those soft eyes of yours, he only wanted to cherish and protect you. You thought he didn’t know, but things get around in the industry. 

“Do you really need a min-” Changbin began, trying not to laugh as the others left.

“No,” he said firmly. “Hyunjin, for the last line…” 

He’d beat the crap out of Kim Beomgyu if he ever met him. 

****

Debut day. You thought you’d had nervous days before, but this one topped them all. Standing in the bathroom stall, you took deep breaths to steady your racing heart. Sweat turns cold even in the black and red outfit the stylists put together for you. You hadn’t stepped a single foot out of the dressing room since management wanted to maintain their secret as long as possible. But, you heard the phantom screams and shouts of fans in your hand. You saw your own fans buzzing with theories that it might be you since they know you are a trainee at a big company. Everyone you know will be watching whether in person or at home. They will be carefully examining and critiquing Stray Kids’ new member. You already knew you’d be the center of attention in the interviews. Media coaching taught you what to say and how to say it; you were given the ‘sweet sunshine boy’ persona like Han and Felix. What if you couldn’t play that up well? What if fans did not cheer for you or didn’t like you?

A sick feeling swirled around in your stomach, making it harder to breathe.

“YN?” a gentle voice bounced through the empty bathroom. “Are you in here?”

You’re going to fail. You’re going to get kicked out regardless. The other shoe will inevitably drop and you’ll be back to square one.

“YN?”

Changbin. Embarrassment still lingered from a week ago when you’d gotten a raging hardon around him. You knew he’d heard you in your shower stall. Even with its own walls and glass door, it wasn’t exactly sound proof. He must think you’re such a creep. Beomgyu thought so too when it happened to him. One of the Goldeye members nearly hit you when he caught you watching him get undressed. If you get kicked out for anything, it’ll be that. It’s always that. You didn’t care what they claimed to be. Nobody in the Kpop industry is that open or unashamed.

“YN,” he said, standing outside your stall. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m going to fail.”

“What?” he asked in disbelief. “No, you’re not. Why do you think that?”

“I just will, okay? I screw up everything all the time. Everyone is going to see me, see that I’m not good, and want me gone.” The words made you feel worse when you finally said them.

You saw his shoes and imagined he leaned next to the door. “That’s not what I think,” he said, “And that’s not what the other members think. Management, Stays, and your fans don’t think that either. Stays haven’t seen your face, but they heard your voice in that promo we put out. They’re all really excited. People are already getting attached to you,” he chuckled softly. “You’re such an easy person to like.” 

The door opened a second time. “Is he in here?” It was Chan. Out of everyone, you couldn’t cry in front of Chan. You already stumble all over yourself around him. “YN? What’s wrong?”

“He’s nervous.”

“I know you’re nervous,” he said, talking to you now. “I felt the same when we first debuted. I had wanted it for such a long time that I couldn’t believe it was really happening. I had all these doubts in my head: what if we did poorly? What if nobody liked us? What if we ended up disbanding and I was stuck back with trainees again?” The door opened a third time, but nobody spoke. “I know why you’re scared, YN, and that’s okay. I know what happened with Beomgyu-”

You nearly choked. 

“We’re not like him. We’re not trying to trick you or prank you. We want you to be comfortable with us. We want you here, YN. We’re not going to let you go. I’m not going to let you go.”

“What if I’m terrible?”

“You’re going to do great,” Chan said. “Better than great. You’re so talented and passionate about what you do. Anyone who watches you can see how hard you work to hone your skills. You’re always practicing late, always asking to redo lines in songs, and constantly monitoring yourself at music video and photo shoots. You’re not only talented, you’re an…you’re an angel, YN,” he said with a nervous breath. “And people will see that once they get to know you.”

“You won’t know how people are going to react if you don’t go on stage,” said Seungmin. “Isn’t it better to know than to keep sitting in here worrying about it? At least if you go out, you’ll finally know.”

“Come on out,” Han said gently, knocking on the door playfully. “Please, YN? Please come dance with us. We promise we’ll get you anything you want afterwards.”

“Anything you want,” Hyunjin emphasized.

“Get out of there!” Changbin’s hand shot out from under the stall to your ankle. The sudden touch made you jump and giggle as he continued trying to reach you. “Come on,” he said, laughing to lighten the mood, “Get out!”

Two more hands joined in from either side, and you laughed as you jumped around to avoid them like crabs. You soon opened the door to their smiling faces. Chan stood at the forefront with a reassuring smile. His eyes crinkled in it, and you couldn’t get over his slight dimple. When he hugged you, you realized how comfortable his body was. You didn’t feel bothered at all when he lingered, because then you could put his hand placements to memory for later. The other members embraced you after, with Hyunjin being the last one.

“I mean it,” he said, a familiar glint in his eyes, “Anything you want, cutie.”

“Double for me,” said Felix.

They both winked this time, which completely crushed any nervousness inside you.

****

‘OMGGGG I knew it was YN!!! He did so amazing! #newStrayKid #Babysunshine’

‘The new guy’s super cute! I think I have a new bias haha sorry Hyunjinnie!’

‘The dancing? Amazing. The visuals? Gorgeous. The rapping? Awesome. THE VOCALS???!! OUT OF THIS WORLD!’

‘Oh my god, I need to know everything about YN RIGHT NOW!!’

‘His full name is (YLN YFN), he���s from Busan but he moved to Seoul when he started training with JYPE. He’s been a trainee for like seven or eight years now. He’s got a Tiktok and Instagram account where he posts originals and covers. He does all his own choreography, singing, producing, composing…’

‘Okay, hear me out: YN + Hyunjin + Felix = Modelracha’

‘Sirenracha is more like it! His vocals are so otherworldly to me!’

“See? I told you people would love you.”

You’d done it. You’d debuted. The high you’d ridden coming off stage continued on through dinner. To the world, you’d officially become part of Stray Kids. You remembered all the nerves fading out once the music started playing. The moment the spotlight hit you, the crowd cheered instead of booed. They chanted your name along with the other members, clearly having coordinated a spot for the newest Stray Kid. Back at your dorm, you couldn’t stop yourself from reading the comments underneath the comeback stage video. They’d even included your interview, where you told the MCs you were excited to show everyone your best side and make Stays proud. Your social media became flooded with congratulations, praises, and high hopes for your future. When you did the obligatory live broadcast, old fans wanted to talk to you and new fans wanted to know you. You had jitters at first, but when Hyunjin and Felix appeared in your live, you didn’t feel as nervous about it.

People also said you three looked incredible together.

“You had nothing to worry about,” Chan said, sitting next to you on the couch.

“It was still nerve wracking.”

“I know, but you’ve debuted now and you’re one of us.” 

He looked at you with pride, and your insides squirmed. You didn’t realize how close you both sat together. The few drinks you had at the restaurant left you feeling looser. Recalling how Chan said he wished for you to be comfortable, you wanted to tell him you really felt that when you were next to him. 

“YN, I need my partner,” Felix handed you a game controller. 

“He doesn’t want to be alone in his failure,” Jeongin joked from beside Chan. 

“I’m not that bad,” you defended, echoing Felix’s words that first night. “I’ve gotten better.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Changbin laughed, settling into his usual spot with Hyunjin close by. “While I destroy you.”

For once, you fit in. Starting up the game, all the awkwardness you felt before melted away. You might not have been with them long, but no group or fellow trainees embraced you like they had done. If you’d debuted with ZeroZeroOne or Goldeye, you’d still feel casted aside. You played a few rounds with them, finding your place with them so easily. Things went smoothly until another topic came up. 

“Do you like group sex, YN?” Seungmin had asked, handing you a bowl of popcorn to pick from. His question stunned you so much you hardly noticed the bowl.

“Seungmin!” Chan kicked him gently, even though the other members laughed. “You don’t ask stuff like that.”

“It’s bound to come up anyways!” said Seungmin, putting the bowl into his lap. "He’s already walked in on two of us fucking. He might as well know that we’re okay with him joining if he wants to.” 

“You mean he’s going to walk in on you and Jeongin,” said Han, snuggling close to Minho in their couch corner, “And you want him to join you guys.”

The sudden change and acknowledgement swirled with the alcohol in your system. The thought came to you more than once, but you’d been so afraid to do anything about it. Every time you caught a member in a compromising way, you wanted to take full advantage of the moment. What might have happened if you’d gone into Changbin’s shower stall or closed the door behind you in Jeongin’s bedroom? Would giving into your desires truly be so bad?

“That's only because you’re a bunch of sluts,” said Changbin, scrolling through movies on the television. By his small smirk, you knew he’d done it to tease his members.

“That’s the teapot calling the kettle black,” said Hyunjin. “You can’t keep your hands off me ever.”

“How can I be expected to keep my hands off someone as beautiful as you, baby?” he grinned, kissing Hyunjin’s cheek, which made the man smile.

“I’m so sorry about them,” Chan told you, cheeks tinged a faint pink. “You don’t have to answer that at all. I swear we do more than sleep with each other all the time. That wasn’t important to me when I put the group together.”

“But it definitely happens,” chuckled Felix. He looked up at you, “A lot.”

“We are a group of young men who have very busy schedules and that comes with a lot of pressure,” said Hyunjin, leaning over to Felix so they looked at you together. You wished they had not. Sharp eyes blinked at you with a sultry stare that made your blood rush. “It’s only natural we’d want to relieve some of that stress with people we trust and we know care about us. Imagine if we hooked up with strangers and they went talking about the super kinky,” he glanced up and down your body, “Things we like.”

They then crawled over to you. You suddenly became hot in your hoodie, wishing you’d worn something else. Never in your life had you been approached by such beautiful men. Not even the hottest of supermodels could hold a candle to the two kneeling in front of you. You gulped thickly when they sat in front of you.

“You don’t have to be scared,” said Hyunjin, hand going up your leg gently. “You’re with friends. There’s no secret camera or anything around here. You can be yourself with us.”

“Unless you like being filmed?” asked Felix, starting to touch your opposite leg. You wished you’d worn looser pants. “I wouldn’t mind making movies with you.”

“Um, uh, well, um…”

“Don’t act so innocent now,” he laughed softly. “It's obvious that you’re a little pervert. How can we not do anything about that?” He let his fingers trail up your leg to your knee, the feeling sending more blood rushing to your core. 

“Do you like to be called ‘Hyung’ in bed, YN?” Hyunjin asked, staying focused on you. “Or do you prefer something else?” 

“Uh…” They were so beautiful and their fingertips drew closer to your knees and thighs. You hadn’t been properly fucked in years; not since Jihwan.

“You don’t have to worry,” Chan said, leaning over to you. “Felix and Hyunjin will be gentle with you if you’re a bottom. And they’ll be good boys if you’re a top.” He pushed a piece of hair from your face, looking down at your lips, “I personally like giving my boys as much pleasure as I can. I like watching them turn into whiny, whimpering messes from my touch,” he drew closer, “And my toys.”

“Hyung…” the title came out in a single breath. 

“Let Felix and Hyunjin take care of you tonight,” he said. “When I fuck you, I want you to myself.” 

The question came out before you stopped yourself, “Will you watch?”

“I’ll definitely be watching,” he replied with a soft grin. He moved from the couch to the coffee table in front of you three. “Tell them what you like,” he said gently. “They can’t take care of you if you don’t tell them.” 

“I don’t mind being on top though,” you said quickly as both Hyunjin and Felix drew even closer. They each had a hand on your thighs, sliding your shorts up ever so slightly. “I’m not picky about it.” You became more aware of Chan watching than before. 

“Good to know,” Felix said, deep voice dripping with lust. “Because I’ve been wondering what it’s like to ride you since we met.”

“Re-really?” you asked, breath getting heavier as fingers breached the hem of your shorts.

Both of them chuckled at your shyness. “Definitely,” he confirmed.

You noticed the others watching as intently as Chan did. Their attention brought flames to your cheeks, and only aroused you more. You’d never thought you’d be in this situation. Yes, you’d seen Han and Minho the other day, but you didn’t think this would happen. 

“You don’t have to play shy with us,” said Felix, pushing your pant leg over your thigh. “Han told us all about the show he and Minho put on for you in the practice room. I can’t believe you jerked off in a hallway. Literally anyone could have seen you.”

“He told you about that?”

“You could’ve joined,” said Minho. “I wouldn’t have said no.”

“Me neither.”

That was when you noticed them entangled in one another. Han had one leg over Minho, his hand sliding into his pants while Minho groped his ass.

“And when you did it again in the gym locker room,” said Changbin, eyes shut as Seungmin and Jeongin slowly crept onto him. “Do you like public stuff? Please say ‘yes’.” His words made the others laugh.

“I mean…I guess?”

“Little pervert,” Hyunjin grinned. “If I’d known, I would’ve come on to you sooner. I love perverts,” he smirked, hand sliding over the inner part of your thigh. “They’re so much fun.” 

“Let’s get this off you,” Felix said, hand leaving your thigh to the bottom of your hoodie. “I’ve been dying to see you without this.”

“Me too,” said Hyunjin.

You complied, and let the pair remove your hoodie and shirt. Chan sitting in front of you, he had a view of everything. Having his eyes on you in such a vulnerable state sent more blood rushing to your dick. You wished he’d come over and join you or take you somewhere to have you himself. But, Chan seemed content to watch on his own. 

“I’m right here, baby,” he said, breathing deep as he rubbed himself through his shorts. “Just relax and get into it.” 

Once exposed to him, Felix brought you closer by the chin. His lips made your arousal bloom in a single kiss, nurturing it as he gradually opened your mouth. The softest moan escaped you when his tongue slid over your own, rolling around with your mouths open for Hyunjin to see. With his fingers brushing close to your hardening cock, Hyunjin then turned you from Felix to plant his own passionate kisses. Felix’s hands rubbed down your smooth chest, tracing the line between your pecs before dancing to one nipple. One of your weakest spots.

“I see someone has very sensitive nipples,” he said in your ear before kissing underneath it. “I'm going to love touching these.”

He joined both you and Hyunjin in kissing. All three of you smacked each other’s lips and tongues in a three-way kiss. You couldn’t help whimpering as Felix teased your nipple with his fingers. You finally moaned when Hyunjin’s hand slid further into your shorts, moving over your boxers to your bulge. He lightly traced the outline forming underneath, starting from your balls to the twitching tip over and over. The languid pace drove you crazy, but you felt too shy to say anything. 

The other pairs around you started letting out their own moans as clothes came off and kissing became more heated. When Felix started kissing down your neck and Hyunjin pulled away to focus on your groin, you saw Chan in front of you in the same position as before. He remained focused on your body, examining how the pair ignited the fire burning in your loins. The considerable bulge in his shorts made you drool. You’d do anything to have it deep in your throat, milking precum onto your tongue as you pleasured him. 

Changbin had Seungmin and Jeongin straddling his thighs, both of them massaging his chest and crotch. They’d removed their shirts, which let Changbin switch between whose nipples he’d tease. Minho placed Han across the couch, pecking kisses down his exposed chest to the tent forming in his sweatpants. Is this what they did after shows? You knew you’d found your people. You knew you were where you belonged.

“Can I take it out?” Hyunjin asked you, cradling your balls in one hand. “Please, hyung?”

“Yes,” you breathed, eyes falling shut as Felix’s lips found your nipple. “Oh god, yes.”

The three of you groaned when he tugged down your shorts and underwear. Your dick sprung out onto your stomach, throbbing and twitching in front of them. Looking up at Chan, his mouth hung open in a low groan as he fully stroked himself now. You looked away shyly as the pair started grabbing at it. The touch nearly sent you spiraling. It had been way too long, and your body craved closeness. It craved intimacy from someone, anyone.

“Fuck,” Hyunjin huffed, holding you by the base. “It’s bigger than I thought it’d be,” he grinned at you.

“And thicker,” said Felix, capturing your lips in a deep kiss. “I can’t wait to ride it.”

You aren’t exactly a monster, but you did have a length that other guys liked. Looking down, you saw Hyunjin slowly stroking you while he admired it. You squirmed under him when he used both his hands, thumbs pressed to the underside of your tip each time he came up. That was when Felix removed his shirt, flinging it away to show you his sculpted body. Lean and slimmed down, he was jaw dropping. You lifted a shaky hand to his lower stomach, sliding upwards to his pecs which earned you a low hum. Brushing your thumb around one nipple, you felt it grow hard against the pad and saw Felix tremble when you touched the center.

“Lick them,” Chan said breathily. “I want you to-Oh yes, please.”

One arm wrapped around Felix’s waist, you kept him close as you slowly rolled your tongue around the nipple. Hyunjin’s hands produced thin droplets of precum, which he used to slicken your shaft. You shuddered at the tongue swatting at the slit, looking to see his pink tongue lap up what leaked out. Dark eyes met yours as he sunk the head between his pouty lips. Hyunjin’s mouth sparked nerves that made you bite your lower lip. You took in how his lips wrapped around it so easily, stretched to your girth and cheeks hollowing in each suck. The tiny moans he gave left small vibrations and you thought of grabbing his hair to push yourself further into his mouth. When he pulled away to remove his own shirt, you drooled over his slim body and imagined dark hickies across his unblemished skin.

As you teased each of Felix’s nipples, you couldn’t stop yourself from feeling down the rest of him. The sweatpants he wore did little to hide his arousal from you nor the curves of his perky ass. Due to his kneeling position, his nipples came nearly to level with you which meant his bulge touched close to you. Simply knowing his dick was so close had you salivating for it.

“Not so shy anymore, huh?” Felix chuckled. “Touch it. Pull down my pants and touch me, please.”

Untying the sweatpants, you tried hiding your eagerness. Even his dick was perfect. Going back to his hard, sensitive nipples, you slid the pants further until you felt the round cheeks of his ass.

“YN…”

You kissed from his chest to his navel, where his cock gradually began standing straight. It gave a small twitch, as if sensing your mouth close by and you went further. You gave the cheeks a gentle squeeze, the flesh molding to your fingers each time you spread them apart until you heard him groan. Felix’s hands fell into your hair, wanting you close to him as you reached his center. The tip of his dick leaked when you licked at it, straining to be in your mouth. But, Felix stayed perfectly still as you slowly took him between your lips. The blond shuddered when your hands started feeling up and down the backs of his thighs. He used your shoulders to steady himself while you licked up and down his shaft, his fingers digging into the muscles whenever you teased the tip.

“God, that’s so hot,” Hyunjin groaned, your cock still on his tongue before he sucked you again. “Not using his hands like that.”

“It feels so good,” Felix groaned in his deep voice. “Play with my ass, YN-hyung. Please.”

Not one to deny a beautiful boy anything, you started massaging closer to his hole. Fingers constantly rubbing over it, the hole fluttered against your fingertips each time. You took the chance to slide him deep into your mouth. Breathing through your nose, you slid him right to the back of your throat which made Felix’s head tilt back in a low groan. Your face buried in his groin, you focused on the entrance trying to suck a finger into it. Likely due to watching you do it, Hyunjin copied your move and sunk his mouth right to your base with soft choking sounds. This had you pull away from Felix, taking deep breaths and licking at him before taking him again. When you pushed a finger to the first knuckle, Felix wriggled in place. You kept pushing and withdrawing as you deep-throat his cock, driving Felix wild. The moment you finally sunk your finger to the last knuckle he started pushing into your face. You didn’t complain. You loved having this pretty, horny boy using your mouth as he wished. The grip he kept on your hair, his moans coming out breathy and deep, and his balls starting to slap your chin felt better than anything you had in a long time. You kept fingering his ass as he did this, feeling the walls clench around the digit each time you pressed to the hard mass deep inside. A second finger pushed in with the first, and Felix started shaking.

“Let me ride it, hyung,” he said hurriedly, pulling out of your mouth. “Fuck, I need to ride you right now.”

The pair pulled away and laid you on the couch. The three of you hastily removed the rest of your clothes before he straddled your hips. He spat on your cock, coating you in spit before pressing your tip to his entrance. You both groaned loudly in relief when you finally filled him to the brim. Felix, letting out a stream of uncontrollable moans, stayed planted on you a few seconds and grinded with you inside him. You joined in the grinding, pushing up into him before he started bouncing on his own. He looked beautiful. Cheeks flushed pink, blond strands falling in front of his face, wet cock bobbing in every push had you reaching out for him before Hyunjin sat on your chest, back facing you.

“Can I ride your tongue, hyung?” he asked in the most innocent voice, wriggling his ass at you. “Please?”

“Come closer.”

You thought you might cum right then. Resting above your head, Hyunjin placed himself on your chest so you could hook your arms around his thighs. You wouldn’t pass up the chance to feel up his gorgeous body as you kissed his plush bottom. Face buried in his ass, you traced the clenched hole in slow circles. Lovely moans joined Felix’s husky ones every time, becoming louder when you found his cock. The position made it hard to fully stroke him, but the bit that you stroked made Hyunjin push into your face. You slowly darted the tip of your tongue to the middle of his asshole, matching the pace of your jerking. Soon, Hyunjin carefully began sliding up and down on your outstretched tongue.

Felix’s ass clamped down around you, unable to slow down or control himself anymore. You throbbed in every stroke, pinned down by the both of them and helpless to fuck either of them back. They both sounded so pretty. It was like hearing your favorite song or listening to a good melody. You’d let them use you forever if it meant you could keep hearing them moan.

“I’m going to cum,” Felix huffed. “Oh god, I’m gonna cum. Make me cum, hyung. Make me cum, please, please, please!”

“You should see how pretty he looks when he cums,” said Hyunjin, who lifted himself off you.

Felix did look beautiful right on the edge. His cock leaked clear precum all over your lower stomach, and his hard muscles tensed as he drew closer. You grabbed onto his hips, fingers digging into the flesh, as he pushed up to meet him. The smacking of his ass to your balls became a rhythm you based your speed on. Full lips parted in every moan, eyes full of need and desperation, Felix looked more beautiful than anything you’d ever seen. His soft pleas for more of you drove you to go faster. You wanted him to cum. Soon, holding onto your arms tightly, Felix trembled and quivered on top of you.

“Cum on me,” you panted, watching Hyunjin kiss his neck and start jerking him off for added pleasure. “Go ahead, baby. Cum all over me.”

As if on command, thick white streams shot out from Felix and onto your stomach and chest. You loved the heat against your skin. You loved watching him lose complete control this final time, erotic and tantalizing even as he slowly came down from his peak.

“My turn,” Hyunjin smiled, bringing you up from your position.

You didn’t waste a second. Pushing him onto his back, head on a cushion, you kept his knees and thighs apart to plunge deep inside him. He felt just as good as Felix. Your dick reached deep, your tip pushing right to the prostate where the boy saw stars. Hyunjin held onto your arms, nails digging into your muscles as you lost yourself in him.

You couldn’t hold yourself back anymore. All pretense and shyness shed itself in every thrust. You’d let your new members see how horny they made you, and how you’d fuck them as much as they wanted. Hell, you’d be their fuck toy now. You’d be the biggest slut of them all. Their collective moans and groans became your sustenance. You looked down to see your dick splitting him open easily; his cock and balls laid right in front of you, dripping and bouncing with you.

Felix gently moved Hyunjin’s leg down to your waist, and grabbed his dick. “Suck him,” you said in a panting breath, desperate to watch them together. “Please, suck his dick while I fuck him.”

“Anything for you, hyung.”

You might have finished right there. Felix’s mouth around his cock, Hyunjin turned into a mewling mess with both of you working him. One hand still grabbing onto you, the other slid into Felix’s blond strands, though unable to move due to the overwhelming pleasure. Soon, like Felix, his body froze up. He looked just as gorgeous. Teeth biting down on his lower lip, his eyes squeezed shut as his orgasm approached. You couldn’t help but bring him as much pleasure as possible. Your own orgasm started building up in your gut and rolling closer to the edge. Lifting his legs, you changed the angle that finally pushed Hyunjin over.

“Hyung, hyung, hyung,” he said, “Fuck me. Oh please, fuck me!”

His cum, thin and white, leaked out of him like a fountain. It dripped over the sides to the base, where it pooled around the pelvic area. Felix licked small droplets, but otherwise let you see the effect you’d caused. Sucking some from the bottom, he fed Hyunjin bits of cum in slow kisses. When they both looked at you, smoldering eyes and wet tongues licking up excess fluids, you came. You came harder than you’d ever come before. Taking yourself out, you started stroking right as cum started flying out onto them. Both Hyunjin and Felix stuck out their tongues close to your cock, catching what they could and swallowing. It was the hottest thing you’d seen two guys do. You thought your climax might go on forever, especially when the pair prolonged it by taking over for you.

“You’re not done.”

Chan took hold of Felix’s hips and nearly threw him onto the free space onto the couch. This only made Felix giggle excitedly. You saw Chan had removed almost all his clothes, giving you an eyeful of his muscled body. His dick stuck upright to his sculpted stomach, leaking and flushed completely red. Felix bent over the back of the couch right away, his back arched and fingers digging into the furniture. Chan wasted no time in sliding right into Felix and began slamming his hips into the boy’s ass. You and Hyunjin watched in awe as Felix let Chan take him. Mouth open, eyes rolling back, Felix let out small moans. Chan kept his ass cheeks spread so you both saw him stretching the hole in each stroke. You grabbed yourself, stroking even if it brought on tingles of sensitivity, and imagined yourself in Felix’s place. 

“Let me take care of that, hyung,” Hyunjin said, bringing you in for a kiss before replacing your hand. “They look good, don’t they?”

“Yeah,” you breathed, shifting due to the oversensitivity shooting through your cockhead. 

“Don’t tell Binnie,” he leaned to your ear, “But Chan has an incredible dick. I can’t get enough of it once he starts fucking me.”

“When will he fuck me?” you asked, almost whining as you started growing hard again. 

“Soon, I assume,” he replied, kissing your neck. “In the meantime,” he straddled your lap, letting you lean back against the couch, “You can fuck me whenever you like. All you have to do is ask and I’m on my knees, I promise.” 

Seeing the rest of the room, you saw Jeongin bent over a stack of couch pillows with Changbin pounding him from behind, pulling his hair and slapping his ass until it turned pink. Seungmin stood in front of him, pushing his dick into the stationary Jeongin’s open mouth. You would’ve given anything to trade places with the youngest. You saw their hard cocks abusing him, going right to the hilt and you wished it was you. When Jeongin started shaking, Changbin changed his angle to make him moan louder.

Han went into a completely different world than the rest of you. Eyes closed, mouth open, he laid on his side with his arms to his chest. Minho, keeping his leg up, made sure the whole room saw him slowly pushing deep into him. From the mess on Han’s stomach, the man already came once. You wondered, as Hyunjin bounced in your lap, how many times they could make you cum. Ever since you’d seen them in the practice room, you wanted both of them.

It felt good being with people you could be yourself with. You never thought you’d belong anywhere. You never thought you’d debut or have a group or have fans or do what you’ve dreamed of.

You were no longer a newbie. 

***

A/N: my first male!reader fic, I hope you guys liked it! Please reblog and like if you did, and feel free to send asks or comments about it <3 It keeps posts alive!

[absolutebl]

This Week in BL - Scandals, Face Offs & Disappointments, Oh my!

Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

Oct 2024 Week 3

Ongoing Series - Thai

Jack & Joker (Thai Mon IQIYI) ep 6 of 12 - 3 tiny girls ragging on Jack was possibly the greatest opening sequence ever. Poor Jack. He is so not single anymore - so far as everyone around him is concerned. 

Love Sick 2024 (Thai Sun iQIYI) ep 5 of 15 - Sports day continues. We get a little backstory on the respective crushes on Noh. The jealousy between Phun & Earn is way more extreme in this version. I'm not mad about it. I love a claiming. Although it is so unfair of Phun to claim Noh when they agreed not to go there, AND he’s dating someone else. The byplay with Pete’s ex was fun. I wonder if we’re supposed to suss that Noh knows he’s gay in this version? 

I'm doing a face-off style watch along of this new version versus the original 2014-2015 version. Where I decide with each new ep which one wins. I will render a final judgement at the end. Frankly, I'm warming to this show way more than I thought I would give my extreme affection for the original.

Kidnap (Fri YT) ep 7 of 12 - Oh it’s so cute that he just wants to officially move in. And the necklace claiming thing was darling. Mini boyfriend era. Min being a kept baby girl was kinda fun. The family thing was too sweet. Oh noes my man has been strangled! Oh good he’s okay. Stupid breakup “for the plot” moment, they could have easily been separated by baddies, we didn’t need to go through this. 

Fourever You (Thai Thurs YT) ep 3 of 16 - I don’t care how cute he is or how longing those beautiful eyes, ghosting is a pretty big offense. Especially high school first love. I’m glad Ter is being difficult about it. Still the backstory is getting frustratingly confusing. It seems increasingly convoluted (full of girls) and I’m not sure what happened. So I’m not sure if I should be on Hill’s side or Ter’s. I’m beginning to feel manipulated and I don’t like it. I still like the show, but not as much as I did last week. I’m on a roller coaster here. 

Battle of the Writers (Sun YT) ep 11 of 12 - It remains odd, disjointed, but still modestly entertaining. Ozone using a well placed Phi for manipulation purposes made me happy. Random het wedding is random. 2 drunk horny sunshine babygurls was cute tho. 

Every You Every Me (Thai Mon Gaga) ep 2 of 10 - AKA Just one meet cute after another. Nice queer rep this time. It’s lovely, just not my style BL. 

Addicted Heroin (Thai Tues WeTV) ep 10 fin - Okay so last week half the ep was eng subbed and this week only 3/4. Whatever. Please note my extreme annoyance with everything about this show will color my rating. As it should. Ready for a mini rant?

Conclusion

What to say about this damn show? It wasn’t what I wanted and I didn’t like it. I’m disappointed in myself for having expectations and in it for not living up to them. It starred August for fucks sake! How could they fuck it up so bad? I wanted it to be a Thai reinterpretation of the brilliance that was Addicted giving us the ending that we never got to have but the narrative deserved. I got a resounding nope. The side couple was messed with, rearranged, and then entirely dropped and forgotten. The main romance was weirdly obsessive without any physical payout or emotional resolution, as if this remake were the censored Chinese version. All characters acted irrationally most of the time, and from what I could tell there was no logic to the ending, which seemed to be to minors escaping to a beach, abandoning their schooling, families, and respective futures. It was a hot mess. Without being hot. 4/10 fatally flawed, do not bother

Bad Guy My Boss (Thai Sun Gaga) ep 5 of 10 - it's bad. I don't like it.

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

Let Free the Curse of Taekwondo (Korea Thurs Gaga) eps 1-2 of 8 - High school student Do Hoe lives with his violent and brutal father who runs a Taekwondo gym in a rural area. Then cheerful Ju Young arrives who dreams of going to college for Taekwondo. Joy begins to fill Do Hoe's dark life. An unexpected incident forces them apart, they reunite over a decade years later.

Make no mistake this one is dark. And Korea can go many directions when it leans dark. So I’m not entirely sure what to expect. All the triggers: child abuse, corporal punishment, alcoholism, gambling, and a few other things. But also a fantastically awkward kiss. Oh this is VERY good. I’m enjoying it. Tumblr is officially losing its tiny mind about it. What can I say? This hellhole loves it some gritty dark angst with high romance and deep meaning. All hail the return of Queen Hwang Da Seul. 

My Damn Business (Korea Sat YT) eps 3 of 7 - He kinda is the worst boss ever. Now he’s turned into a drinking buddy whether baby likes it or not. I really feel for this kid. I do want more backstory on both of them. Why are they the way they are? All that said….. phenomenal kiss. Thanks boys. 

Teenager Judge (Vietnam Sat YT) ep 4 of ? - I do like the brothers relationship. Even though we know it’s gonna become romantic, it’s nice to see them all teasing and friendly. Meanwhile I’m getting a little exhausted by the bullying and I’m very much ready for the revenge narrative to continue.

Although I understand we have more of a spiral first, could we get on to some actual kissing soon? 

I'm shallow I just wanna see BV kiss the next boy. It's the BL world's version of Pokemon.

Our Golden Times (Hong Kong YT) 6 fin - Okay so this was the last ep! 

Summary

This was an odd disjointed little piece, but the most BL BL we’ve ever seen out of Hong Kong. The optics are good and it’s enjoyable for what it is, which is a circumspect, badly subbed, and slightly odd yet earnest reunion romance. I liked it more for what it could be, and for what it represented, than for what it actually was, but I still liked it.

7/10 recommended with reservations

I would like to nominate Our Golden Times @bengiyo as a candidate for the next "Girl you tried." Because it really did try hard to be the best little BL it could be under the circumstances.

First Note Of Love (Taiwan Mon Gaga) ep 11 of 12 - I do like all the couples, and in classic Taiwan style we’re ending ultra sappy (when they don’t fuck it up, and I don’t think this one will). Mei is the secret power behind the throne - as we all knew - love this for her, and us. 

Love is Like a Poison AKA Doku Koi: Doku mo Sugireba Koi to Naru (Japan Tues Netflix?) 5 of 10 eps - I'm falling beind because my subber is, but sort-of trying to keep up. I don’t know. Just Japan messing with us, I guess.

Eccentric Romance (Korea Weds Viki) eps 3-4 of 12 - It’s oddly erotic with all the gym stuff but also awkward and weird with the jelly plus suspicion. (Hi GeonU, another Thai/Korea BL for you? Is it a thing for you now? Could you recruit Jimin to the cause? I mean you go him into a reality competition. BL is right there. Waiting. Pretty please with a shirtless hottie on top?) Anygay, I keep thinking that this show would actually be better if the Thai character were just a Korean character and this was just a regular KBL. Although, it probably still wouldn’t be very good.

It's airing but...

The Hidden Moon (Sat WeTV) 10 eps - This is a supernatural romance (my ghost boyfriend trope) by Violet Rain (I Feel You Linger). A man is hired to write an article about an old mansion in Chiang Mai being converted into a café. He sees the ghosts of people who died at the mansion, falls in love with one of them. Was substantially recast. I loved IFYLITA except the ending so I think I'll let this one run it's course you can tell me if it's work tracking down... if they managed to land it. I have my doubts.

Next Week Looks Like This:

Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.

Still Coming:

10/21 Love in the Big City (Korea Mon Viki) ep 1 of - Okay, this is both a movie (already out) and a series. Neither one is likely BL and I can't imagine it will end happily. Here's your synopsis:

Cynical fun loving student Young pinballs from home, to class, to on night stands. He and Jaehee, his female besie and roommate, frequent nearby bars where they push away their worries about life, love, and money with soju and hookups.

Apparently this is causing a homophobic ruckus in SK right now. As is wont to happen when one puts a really big name in the gay lead and your country is, well, pretty damn homophobic. Brokeback mukbang anyone? (Oh yes I am aware I'm a turd, but I'm too old for this crap. I guess that makes me a coprolite.)

10/23 See Your Love (Taiwan Weds Gaga Viki et al) 10 eps? - Zi Xiong, a third-generation heir, attempting to flee from taking over their family business, meets and falls in love with Shao Peng, who works as a hearing-impaired nurse. From the same production house as Kiseki Dear To Me in partnership with Shinehouse Theatre, funded by Taiwan’s BIGART + Japan's Rakuten (Viki). Show includes Lin Chia Yo (Be Loved in House: I Do). Director Chiang Ping Chen’s childhood experiences with his deaf uncle have inspired the drama.

10/27 Perfect 10 Liners (Thai Sun YouTube?) 24 eps! - New directing yet another university BL with engineers + their mentees. Based on a Jittirain novel. with a massive cast and massive run time. We will be watching this until APRIL of 2025!

ForceBook playing the same old characters = enemies to lovers tsunder/sunshine jock/nerd thing.

PerthChimonSanta are doing the cohabitation cool guy/dork trope.

JuniorMark are doing popular sunshine meets lonely sad boy (the only interesting pair IMHO).

Not sure if these will be interwoven (We Are style) or shorter stand alone runs-within-the-run of 8 eps each (Y-Destiny style).

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

You just kissed his brains out, what do you think? (Eh, we all know the aniyo is coming. This uke is made of tsudere and 아니요 ) (Damn Business)

I know, it's not a good show, but just LOOK at his face.

And the uke drunken shenanigans was brilliant. Loved it. (Battle Writers)

I did LOVE the twist on Golf. (Love Sick 2024)

Joke coming for our hearts just like...... it's TOO MUCH. War is SO DAMN GOOD. (J&J)

Calling out the trope HDS?

Gah. So awkward.

(Both from LFTCOT)

The tag BLigade: @doorajar @solitaryandwandering @my-rose-tinted-glasses @babymbbatinygirl @babymbbatinygirl @isisanna-blog @mmastertheone @pickletrip @aliceisathome @urikawa-miyuki @tokillamonger @sunflower-positiiivity @rocketturtle4 @blglplus @anythinggoesintheshire @everlightly @renafire @mestizashinrin @bl-bam-beyond @small-dark-and-delicious @saezurumurmurs

Sigh, Tumblr in its infinite wisdom doesn't like too many at-ings.

[ma1dita]

buddy system

a ‘partners in crime’ installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: 4.2k

summary: (pre-established relationship) The one where he comes with you to rescue your twin brothers, Pollux and Castor. A weekend 'quest' teaches you a lot about Luke, and about yourself too. Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader

a/n: um i cant apologize for this word count and ive been looking at this for too long so fuck. Anyways do yall think Luke felt bad when he found out Castor died in battle because of his army in this universe? just me?? okay :) also trouble gets a cool magic item that makes an appearance here, kinda works like polyjuice but with smoke

(posted 2/7/24 betad by lovely ellie @lixzey might edit again when i get some sleep)

—

“No. You might be my father, but you’re crazy, man!”

You’re standing in D’s office at the Big House, and what was supposed to be a short talk before the counselors’ meeting has turned into a full-blown argument. It’s hard to focus on anything other than the words leaving your godrent’s mouth.

You’re going to pick up your little brothers.

“Those two statements are both true, kid. You’re old enough to understand that!”

They need your help.

“You’re really letting your 16-year-old daughter drive down to Florida by herself to pick up some kids she’s never met? Won’t even send me with any quest companions, or like, Grover?” you say exasperatedly, before slumping down into a seat.

“Think of it as family bonding! They’re great from what I remember. You all need to get along anyway.”

Whether it was jealousy or the sudden urge to be petty, you impulsively grab your dad’s Diet Coke and chug it, crushing the can with your fist as a tiny act of rebellion. 

Another one appears on the desk and you chuck it over your shoulder. Mr. D sighs as he conjures another one, to which you do the same thing.

“I can do this all day, kid.”

“So can I, and you know if I do, we’ll be sitting here until I’m 40,” you say expectantly, tapping your fingers on the hardwood surface of his desk.

“What do you want?”

The keys to his car are a start, as well as extra pocket money—but there was something, or rather, someone missing to make sure this weekend goes as smoothly as possible.

Your smirk widens at your father, and he wonders when you’ve gotten good at playing his own game.

It’s like looking into a mirror but his worst nightmare manifested as a teenage girl.

—

There are only two things Luke can think about when he hears the sound of your laughter.

The first is that, unlike your angelic singing that could rival the Muses, your laughter takes after the sound of a maniac, an incredulous crescendo that only something curated by Hades in the deepest pits of Tartarus could produce. It was almost madness-inducing, and it went off in his brain like you were a siren (although he means the kind used for weather advisory, he too gets lured in by your laughter each time he hears it like a sailor lost at sea).

Second, as he watches you storm down the lawn of the Big House, your anger brewing something comparable to a Category 5, he raises an eyebrow and thinks, well this ought to be good. Or entertaining at the very least.

“You,” you growl at him, guttural and sharp like the finger you jab into his chest, “we’re going on a quest!”

“Me?” Luke blurts, eyebrows furrowing at you.

A loud groan echoes through the grassy space between the house and the counselors as everyone looks up to see Mr. D dragging his hands down his face at the sheer thought of his daughter causing him more gray hairs. 

“That’s not what we agreed on, kid!” “If you want any of your children to come back to this hellhole in one piece I need backup!” “There’s more of you?”

Both you and your dad glare at Luke now, like he’s interrupting a private conversation.

“Since when do you like asking for help, princess?” 

Mr. D’s arms are crossed over his chest as he speaks to you. Though your height severely differs due to the wooden steps of the Big House, the air is palpable with fear only an Olympian could invoke, reminding the counselors that the man wearing the ugliest Hawaiian shirt known to humankind, is in fact inhuman. You, however, are standing tall in the freshly-cut grass in your combat boots with wrath that could rival Ares’ as you stare your father down like the rest of them wouldn’t get struck into the next lifetime due to your impertinence, as Annabeth loves to call it. She looks up at Luke, with her eyes conveying that she thinks you must be clinically insane, but he knows that already, so he shrugs.

“I’m not asking for it, I’m demanding it. Besides, he’s like my ESA,” you say, then taking Luke by surprise as you grab him by the wrist and drag him off the front lawn. You think you can hear Beckendorf and Clarisse bite back chuckles.

“Someone tell Rodriguez he’s in charge of 11!” you yell into the air, and words of affirmation and good luck are muttered in response.

“Don’t I get a say in this, Trouble?” Luke says playfully, tugging at your arm lightly but unresisting as you sigh and pull him along. Who in their right mind says no to a long weekend away from this place? Monsters and demigods be damned.

“No. Besides, they’re gonna need more luck than we do.”

“Liam, I don’t know why she trusts you, but if my daughter dies, I’ll make sure you’re next!” Mr. D yells out to your retreating figures, and all of the counselors turn to face him realizing that without you, well… that means he actually has to be in charge.

“So what’s the meeting supposed to be about, Annabelle?” Mr. D says, looking at Annabeth only knowing that she’s supposed to be the smart one—and the small girl sighs.

This is gonna be the longest weekend yet.

—

You’re speeding down I-95 with the windows down and the wind brushing through both of your hair. While Luke watches you from the passenger seat with road signs blurring past his periphery, he also notices that it’s the first time in a while that he’s seen you this carefree. Both of you took up counselor positions a few months ago, and your dad appointed you to be in charge of all of them (because why have a counselor for a population of one), so there’s a lot about you that’s grown up in the two years you two have known each other. But what type of demigod gets to enjoy their childhood anyway, right? Luke can only remember bits and pieces of his.

“How do you even know where we’re going? I can barely read the signs,” he asks.

“Cool blessing from my stepmom. Ariadne’s chill. We talk sometimes and she likes that I keep D in check, so now I can never get lost,” you grin toothily, violet eyes flickering to meet his.

“Was it true what your dad said? That you trust me?”

His voice is a bit louder than it should be over the wind tunnel that blocks out the sound of the radio as the air whips in and out of the car.

“Well, I wouldn't say trust,” you drag out, leaning back against your seat with your eyes still on the road, “More like if I got abducted by a harpy, I think you could cut its wings off and give me a fighting chance at living.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t invite Mason to come,” he mumbles, and you smirk, pretending not to hear.

“Who?”

His hands are clenched in his lap as a blush brushes his cheeks, windswept in the rays of the late summer sun.

“Your boyfriend. Wouldn’t he be a better companion?” 

Something about the older son of Apollo always ground his gears. It was even worse that you both would sing Broadway musicals together during his sparring sessions. Your harmonious voices echoing from the amphitheater aside, the repetitive grating feeling in his stomach reminds him not to go see Hamilton if he ever makes it out to the city.

“He’s not…” you huff, tapping your fingers on the steering wheel as you think hard on what to say next, “He’s nothing serious.” You pull the sun visor down as you squint, tilting your head in case he says something else, but you hear nothing. Luke’s staring at your side profile, unable to hide his grin at the new information, biting his cheek.

“Besides, he’s a fucking terrible shot. And you’re supposed to be the best, so I’ve heard. Who else would I want on this trip with me?”

He chuckles at this lightly, your words bolstering his ego.

“So you’ve heard.”

And for a second, the sight of his smile distracts you enough that the car swerves a tiny bit closer to the median. You both ignore it and keep driving.

—

Hypnos increases his hold on your senses as you finally take a break somewhere in North Carolina, taking refuge in a dimly lit corner of a gas station parking lot. The old car reeks of greasy fast food and all the sugar Luke could get his hands on at rest stops (it was really cute to see him indulge in more normal things like sweets instead of swordsmanship), and both of your seats are leaned back, but it’s hard to get comfortable after having your butt in the same seat for several hours.

You readjust yourself again, making the car shake a bit as you turn over to face Luke. 

“What’s wrong?” he mumbles through closed eyes. His head’s banged against the window one too many times, and it was starting to get annoying.

“Sorry. Just can’t sleep. Thinking too hard.”

He sighs, reaching over to toss your pillow into the backseat, and as you sit up, he rips your blanket off of you too.

“Hey!”

You go silent when you watch him make a makeshift bed for you, turning back with tired eyes as he gestures, “Go ahead. I don’t mind.”

“I feel bad, Luke. You’re taller than me and your knees almost hit the dashboard.”

He rubs at his eyes, looking at you impatiently, and you know his body is calling for comfort too.

“I’ve slept in worse conditions, you gotta remember that, Trouble.” The stories Annie used to tell you about the both of them sleeping on the streets pull at your heart, and as you crawl towards the back, you move before you think rationally–tugging on his arm.

“Come on over here.”

“You sure?” “Before I change my mind, yeah.”

You both move around trying to find a place both of you can be comfortable in, first starting with your heads at opposite windows, legs tangling in the middle before he laughs a little too hard at your fumbling and you launch your pillow at his face. Awkwardly, you climb over his legs into his outstretched arms, slotting yourself against his side as he pulls your hair up from getting trapped between his shoulder and your back.

It’s deadly quiet, and Luke thinks if you could move any closer to him, you might hear his heart thundering in his chest.

“You smell like french fries,” you grumble into his sweater, and his laughter shakes you like an earthquake, uprooting the faint traces of sleep in your mind. 

“At least the monsters won’t find us. Gonna be harder when the twins get here. A lot of demigod smell to ward off.”

You don’t answer, and he thinks you may have fallen asleep until he notices your hand playing with the frays of his sweater.

“Trouble?”

“They’re really little,” you mumble, so low that he barely hears the hesitance in your voice.

“The monsters? Yeah, I fucking ho–” “Pollux and Castor. My…half-siblings, with really Greek names, and a mom that depends on me getting them to camp safely…” you trail off before your head jerks up to meet his eyes. It’s colder at night now, your bodies and the tiny throw blanket from your trunk providing ample heat even if his socked feet fight their way out from underneath.

“How old are they, nine?” He feels you nod against his chest before he continues, “I was nine when I left home.”

Your eyes get glassy at the thought of a smaller version of Luke, one who’s not all gangly legs and lean muscle—one much softer and innocent than the boy you lean your weight upon, running away from home to find a place he can belong. 

“I didn’t know that. I’m sorry.”

He shrugs, the arm propped against the headrest wrapping around you and resting on your hip, tapping you to continue your previous thought.

“I don’t know how to do this, I guess. I’m ripping them from their home and I—” “You’re not some kind of monster y’know? You put yourself down too much sometimes,” he sighs, and he watches the windows slowly start to fog up, “What don’t you know how to do?”

Ignoring his question, you change the subject hoping to talk about something lighter, and far less revealing to the thoughts inside your head.

“Do you remember all of that? Going to school and chalking up the sidewalks on the way home, hopscotch and ice cream trucks… I don’t want to take them away from that.”

Luke ponders, digging through his brain for anything happy from his childhood, but through the years his memories started to collect dust in the back of his mind.

“I don’t remember much.”

“Gods, I’m sorry…” 

Mason had told you of your habit of putting your foot in your mouth. You dealt in extremes, giving too much or too little, always saying the wrong thing—and it was the reason why things didn’t go further with the son of Apollo. As well as with the daughter of Aphrodite you saw briefly that told you you didn’t know how to love, not if you didn’t know how to share yourself with others (yeah that one hurt a lot).

Sharing. 

That’s what you’re hesitant about.

“Don’t be. It was a long time ago now,” Luke mumbles, a beat of silence passing before he redirects the conversation like you did, “What don’t you know how to do, Trouble?”

“How to share. Be a sibling. Someone likeable, I guess.”

Luke doesn’t mean to laugh at your expense, but he does, and you punch his stomach hard enough he gasps for air.

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. Everyone likes you.”

“Everyone’s usually scared of me because of D, or hates me because I take dessert privileges and write them up,” you say matter-of-factly, staring out the window above his head at the gentle shine of the moon on his features. It’s a crime for him to look so soft under the low light, and you realize you’re staring when he calls your name.

“No, you don’t get it—you’re the most selfless person I know. You give up sleep to sing to kids before bed, conjure juice boxes so they don’t pass out during training—I’ve seen you carry a kid almost as tall as you across camp because they broke their ankle. You’ve got a lot of love in that twisted heart of yours. I’d know… I mean—I have to share a lot… so I’m basically an expert.”

You blink at him as if seeing him in a new light, and you realize then why you picked him to go on this weekend quest with you. Your heartbeat slows despite the show of vulnerability in front of him, and you understand now that Luke makes you feel safe. Biting your lip to hold back a sigh, you decide to just unload the rest of your thoughts, knowing that you’re in the hands of someone who wants to hold the weight. “I’m just used to being alone, I think. I mean who knows what we're like when we're alone but us, right? What a terrifying thought,” you deflect, and Luke closely watches the slope of your nose, down to the smoothness of your lips, unable to put the right words to how he’s feeling.

 I know you, he thinks, and it's not as all bad as you make it seem.

“We’re never truly alone, y’know. Besides, even if you are, you still have me,” he says nonchalantly, and the warmth on your cheeks could generate enough heat to run the car for miles. Chuckling lightly as your eyes flutter closed, you know you need to rest before morning comes since you’re the only one between the two of you that can drive.

You reckon you’ll teach Luke by the end of the year if he wants to.

“We’re getting pretty terrible at this enemies thing, Castellan,” you jest with nothing hard to back it, and a smile falls onto both of your lips.

“We were never really enemies, Trouble. I just like getting on your nerves.”

Your laughs fall silent, settling into a comfortable silence, until his next words send you off into slumber as you listen.

“I remember my mom singing in the kitchen as she put peanut butter on my sandwiches. She'd act like she left the dishes out for me to wash, but let me lick the knife clean every time and I’d put too much soap and the sink would be filled with bubbles. I don't remember much else but that. Her kitchen. She smelled like…chamomile.”

A wandering hand pulls his free one into yours, holding it until sunrise.

—

You push Pollux and Castor out the door before the sun rises after a short stay at their mother’s house, and as the engine heats up, you and Luke watch them say goodbye to her with the both of you thinking of last words with your own. You ward off the hellhounds biting off at your heels for a few hours like how you deceived the police the day previous, with a purple Zippo lighter in hand (the smoke grants temporary illusions through any space you blow it into, and it smells like grapes---thanks D!). The kids sleep most of the way, none the wiser and heavy with sleep and their emotions of leaving everything they’ve ever known. Your eyes flicker to their sleeping heads in the rearview mirror every so often, ready to take them home.

Hours later, Luke decides to make you stop at a diner to get you a bit of rest, get actual food, and let the twins pee, and your head is bobbing slightly in front of your plate of food once he brings them back from the bathroom.

“You wash your hands?” you say tiredly, both Pollux and Castor shaking wet hands in your face in response, making you giggle before sipping at your coffee. Luke cut you off from Redbull yesterday, saying he was scared for your liver and saying you needed to drink something else for a bit. He bristles at the sight of you drinking more caffeine, and you smile as the mug touches your lips.

“You’re gonna kill yourself one day. At least your dad drinks Diet Coke.”

“Not by choice, though what a way to go!” you joke, and the twins giggle as the both of them gulp down root beer like it’s essential to their being. Luke sighs at the idea of you having two minions under your belt, who you’ll most definitely train to raise hell on Camp Half-Blood now that you’ve taken more of the administrative side of things.

“Is he your boyfriend, sissy?” Pollux, or maybe it’s Castor pipes up, swinging his legs under the table and you smile at the sound of the nickname, noticing the dimple in his cheek. Luke chokes on his burger, coughing until you elbow him.

“He’s more of my ESA,” you remark, and he still doesn’t know what that is, so he raises an eyebrow like your brothers do as they peer up at you from across the table.

“What’s an ESA?” Castor, you realize, who has no dimples, spits out behind munches of a pickle.

“Luke’s my emotional support animal.”

He eats the rest of your fries despite your confidence in that response, grumbling exactly how a resistant dog would.

As you’re paying the bill, a large shadow looms over the sunny disposition of everyone at your table—and then Luke shouts for everyone to cover their eyes. Glass shatters over you, revealing a hellhound the size of a minivan, and it pounces toward the twins, large teeth bared at their throats. Before Luke can pull his sword out, you whistle sharply and the sound whizzes through the air like a bullet as you toss the Zippo lighter at him as he’s pushing the kids to the car. Though he’s reluctant to lose sight of you, he covers them with an illusion, locking the doors despite their cries running headfirst back into battle and towards to you, with your thyrsus and him with his sword, back to back.

“They okay?” you heave, jabbing at the red-eyed canine between the eyes as Luke pulls around to slash it across the neck, coming out of the tussle unscathed as you both watch it keel over at your feet into golden dust minutes later.

“Yeah. Are you?”

Though you originally found it funny, Luke does perform his job well, getting you to calm down as he holds you to his chest until you can breathe normally again.

“Mhm. Just scared me.”

The two of you run out of the destroyed diner and into the warded-off car before the police show up, hand in hand as you escape without detection. As he falls asleep, Castor dreams that you two are Bonnie and Clyde like in an old Western movie he was definitely not old enough to watch.

—

You’re finally back on the Island now, only an hour away from Montauk and Luke is getting restless in the passenger seat. He pulls apples out of his backpack, wiping them off with his shirt as you sing along to a Taylor Swift song playing on the radio.

And maybe someday when we’re older, this is something we’ll laugh about…. Foolish one… you hum, tapping the wheel to fight off your exhaustion.

Pollux and Castor are using their fingers to pretend to hop over obstacles in the smudged windows, babbling about something they did in class last week. The son of Hermes pulls out a pocketknife he nicked from a gas station this morning as he starts to cut the apples into pieces, putting some into a ziploc bag for the boys to share, and you smile at him, wistful at your trip nearing its finish line. If you weren’t enemies before this like he said, it’s crazy to consider him your closest friend.

But he is, isn’t he?

His knuckles nudge yours over the console, pressing an apple slice into your palm.

“You know, Castellan, you’re sweet when you want to be. Shame you and that sister of Annie’s didn’t work out.”

Luke scoffs at the reminder of his ex, slicing another piece off for you to eat. She did say he had wandering eyes…always looking for you. He’s not going to admit that though.

“I just know you like your apples cut. Saw you battling it out with a butter knife last week. Couldn’t help but notice,” he says lowly like it’s normal for people to be that considerate about others, normal for him to care about you like that, a constant push and pull between you two. 

“Hurts my teeth,” you mutter, and Luke chortles like you’ve told him something life-changing. Your hand bumps into his again, feeling nothing but his calloused fingers, and when you look up his cheek protrudes with the last slice.

“Tax,” he winks, and you’re delirious with this feeling that only he can bring you, almost comparable to being high.

The popstar’s voice continues to trill in the background, with my head in my hands, saying “How could I not see the signs?”

You both don’t realize you’ve stopped singing until Pollux pipes up asking for you to play Fireball by Mr. 305 himself.

—

The car finally pulls into the driveway of the forest path and you’re all greeted by the campers holding blazing lanterns. Chiron, your father, and the nymphs are waving as the twins marvel at the fairy lights strung up along the way for a warm welcome.

“You’re alive,” your dad remarks, and this time he doesn’t say it in jest, sounding more relieved.

“I was in good hands,” you affirm, looking up at Luke amongst the noise of your cheering friends and the feeling that comes with calling this place home.

The boys are tucked in at your side, shyly looking at the crowd, Pollux holding your hand while Castor holds onto Luke’s, and Chiron calls your attention.

“I know you didn’t get your official announcement,” he starts, and you laugh at that, remembering the bubbles in the lake.

“Because I pulled a fast one on D.”

“Nonetheless, I would love for you to get recognized for your efforts. Dionysus. Storyteller, Herald of Chaos,” he continues by announcing your name, and then,” Pollux, and Castor– children of the grapevine, the God of Wine!”

The campers are kneeling and you look at Luke, who’s smiling from the ground beside you.

“Take a picture, Trouble, it’ll last longer.”

“My children are home safe. And thank you, Castellan, for being a formidable companion. My deepest appreciation.” Mr. D sounds serious for once, pulling Luke up as he nods in respect.

It’s a crazy feeling to finally feel at home though you’ve been here for two years now. But you remind yourself quickly of why that is when you see Luke carrying Pollux on his shoulders as Castor latches onto his legs.

“You know, your family is a nightmare. You two hellions will fit right in,” he grins.

You can’t help but agree.

—

“I hadn’t told them about you, but they saw you bathing in my eyes. I hadn’t told them about you, but they saw you in my written words. The perfume of love cannot be concealed.” -Nizar Qabbani

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[mydearesthrry]

sweet nothing - h.s.

a/n: TOTALLY LOST THE PLOT WHILE WRITING THIS. IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE BASED OFF OF THE PICTURE BELOW BUT I GOT DISTRACTED. pls listen to sweet nothing by taylor swift for the full experience!!!

🎀 warnings/cw: none, most tooth rotting fluff ever.

🐇 pairing: fem!reader x harry styles

💐 wc: 1.6k

summary: taking care of a very sleepy harry in an ice bath, and in the car.

“H, the bath is ready, bub.” Harry heard his girlfriend call quietly to him. He was slumped on the couch, this show particularly draining. He was quieter than usual, and instead of being glued to Y/N’s side like he usually was, he let one kiss to her full lips suffice before he decided to rest. 

“Mm, thank you, lovie. I’ll… I’ll be there in a second, jus’ don’t have the energy to go there right now.” His limbs were sore, almost every part of his body completely lost of energy, and he found it hard to even entertain the thought of getting up. 

“Okay… y’know what, just let me help you, H. The faster we get you into this bath, the faster we can go back to the hotel so you can sleep.” He knew she was right, and because he knew she was right, he allowed her to help (though not really at all since he already had felt bad that she ran the ice bath for him) him get to the bathroom. They walked slowly to the connected bathroom, Harry walking zombie-like in her arms. 

“Ready, sweet boy?” She tried to be as quiet as possible, the fact that Harry probably had a headache in the front of her mind. He nodded softly, stripping down to his boxers before letting her help him balance as he stepped into the bath. 

A wince immediately left him, Y/N whispering out ‘I’m sorry’s, knowing how shocking the bath was at first. She lowered herself with him, and sat on the floor next to the bucket when he sat down, submersing himself fully. 

“Okay bubs, y’know we’ve gotta do this so you don’t fall asleep on me. You ready?” Y/N says, pulling out her phone to pull up the trivia questions she’d pre written for the late night ice bath trivia that had become a tradition for them. Harry hums, and she flips to her notes to start. 

“Pick the category, my love. We’ve got pop culture, or the Marvel Cinematic Universe.” She asked, looking up at him, heart breaking a little at the exhausted expression that was obvious on his face. 

“Marvel.” He mumbles, sinking himself lower until his neck up was the only part of his body above water. 

“Okay… Timer officially starts now. Who played the character Pietro Maximoff, also known as Quicksilver?” Her tone was soft, almost at a whisper. 

“Umm… Aaron Taylor Johnson?” Harry questioned, racking his brain to try his hardest to stay awake. His body had now gotten used to the stark cold that he’d slowly started to get used to over the times he’s done this on tour. 

“Good job, baby. What was the name of Peter Parker’s love interest in Spider-Man: Homecoming? This one should be easy, it’s one of my favorite movies.” She giggled, a serene sense of peace overcoming her at the domesticity of it all. 

“It is easy, she’s called Liz, right? Liz Allan, or something.” His eyes were now closed, feeling the tension in his body slowly disintegrate from the cold of the water. 

“Perfect! Though the both of us know that Peter and MJ were the better couple, they were entirely more in love and cuter.” She smiled. 

“Oh, really? Like us then, hm?” Harry hummed. 

“Yes, H, exactly like us.” A few more questions had passed, and Lloyd had now come to join them in the bathroom, his camera hung around his neck. They’d anticipated him coming anyway, knowing that he would come to snap some behind the scenes pictures. Before they’d even left to go to his dressing room, they’d told Lloyd when to come in so that he could come talk to them. 

“Hey guys, sorry for intruding, but I need one of you to pick a few pictures for tonight so I can get them edited by tomorrow.” Lloyd tried to keep his voice quiet too, knowing the kind of atmosphere he was entering before he even came to meet the two in the bathroom. 

“Oh yeah, of course, did you want some pictures too?” Harry smiled, a tired but polite look on his face. Harry had built a great relationship with Lloyd over the months that they’ve been on tour, and they’d gotten more comfortable with each other than they’d anticipated. 

“Only if you’re comfortable, H.” Lloyd smiled. Y/N and Lloyd talked for a second, scrolling through pictures and picking out a few for him to edit. The time they took allowed Harry to rest in the cold for a little, before pushing himself up and folding over, dipping his head into the ice cold water. He could faintly hear Lloyd’s footsteps move to the front of the tub, along with the flicking of the camera shutter going off as he lifted his head out of the tub, ringing out his hair from the nape of his neck to the front of his scalp. 

A couple more flutters from the camera shutters were heard when Harry was rubbing his eyes with the pruny tips of his fingers, and he failed to see the smile on Lloyd’s face. 

Lloyd pulled the camera from his eyes, looking at the digital screen that held a preview of the picture. In the corner, slightly blurred because of the harsh focus that was set on Harry in the center, say Y/N with a soft smile playing on her lips, a moony gaze in her eyes. He made a mental note to send it to them later, and to also crop her out in the final edit in an attempt to salvage their private relationship. 

“Perfect. I’ll let you two rest now, think I’m gonna head to the hotel now myself. Sleep well, you guys, I’ll send you the pictures in the morning.” Lloyd smiles at them, sharing goodnights before closing the door behind him as he walked out. 

Harry’s now damp hair was combed back by his fingers and rested on the top of his head, save for the rogue curl that shriveled in a tiny curl on his forehead. Y/N rested her arms on the side of the tub, a gleam in her eyes as she watched Harry’s relaxed expression. Her timer, however, had different plans for the relaxed couple, and went off with shrill screams, notifying them that it was now time for Harry to leave the bath. 

“Alright sweet boy, time to go.” She tapped on her screen to stop the ringing, standing up to grab his black and white striped towel. She met him in the middle, her boyfriend already standing on the towel that laid outside of the tub, water droplets falling from his body in a soft cascade, small shivers shaking his shoulders slightly. Wrapping the towel around his shoulders, she pushes herself up onto her tiptoes to meet the level of his face, pecking soft kisses onto his cold lips. They stayed in that position for a bit, waiting for Harry’s skin to absorb the rest of the small water droplets. 

She led him with a soft tug to the main space in the dressing room, taking the outfit she’d gotten ready for him while he was on stage from the makeup chair and placed it onto the couch. Leaning down a bit, she took the towel to let him remove his now soaked briefs, before passing him a pair of boxers, tossing his towel onto the back of the couch. She passed him his clothes as he dressed himself slowly, humming at the words of love and admiration he sleepily spewed out. Once he got his last article of clothing on, she took his hoodie strings into her hands and tugged it down softly, making him lean down a bit to meet her lips. 

Their lips connected in a soft caress, his bottom lip wedges in between her two lips, a sweet hum emitting from his throat from the taste of her coconut flavored chapstick, one that was his favorite. Something that could only be described as love seemed to fill the room whenever they had these kinds of moments. Moments that was completely and purely their own. 

They broke away from the kiss, and when Harry went to say something, a yawn cut him off, mouth opening wide making him resemble something of a lion, making a giggle fall from her slightly swollen lips. “Let’s get you into a bed, sleepy boy.” 

“M’kay.” Harry didn’t put up a fight, wanting to get into bed with her to snuggle more than anything. 

They walked through the halls of the venue, pushing through the back door where their driver was already waiting for them, engine started and purring softly. Y/N opens the back car door, stepping in and moving to the side since she knew Harry would follow her. The driver muttered that it would take them about 5 to 10 minutes to get to the hotel before taking off without another word. 

Y/N snapped her seatbelt on, a confused twinge on her face when she didn’t see Harry do the same. Instead, he scooted over to the middle seat, laying into her sleepily. “H, you gotta put on your seatbelt.” 

“Noooo, s’not even that far, and I jus’ wan’ y’to hold me right now.” He mumbled, slightly muffled from the way he burrowed his face into her neck. She sighed in slight exasperation, saying nothing and just letting him completely collapse and rest into her. He was almost laying completely in her lap, her hand in his hair, a soft smile playing on her lips as she looked out the window and into the city. 

She let out a tiny giggle when she felt the slight tickle of stubble on her neck, followed by sweet kisses on the expanse of it. “I love you, love y’so much, it hurts.” 

“I love you, H.” She intertwined their fingers together, bringing up his hand to her mouth and pressing featherlight kisses onto his knuckles. 

“I love you,” Harry whined, making the smallest of smiles cover her face since knew how clingy and lovey Harry got when he was tired. She tried to relish in these moments as much as possible. 

“I love you, sweet boy, the Peter Parker to my Michelle Jones.” A sweet giggle sounded from Harry as he remembered the conversation from earlier. 

“Entirely in love and cute. I agree.” 

[patricia-taxxon]

In art, positive feelings are dumb and negative feelings are smart. This is an association I've noticed in especially online discussions of media, it is an error that has gone uncorrected for entirely too long.

This association is bolstered whenever someone says that you shouldn't criticize the mario movie too harshly because it's "fun" and light frivolous things are self justifying. This association is bolstered whenever people continuously categorize media that makes you feel bad as a strictly adult afair, that anything sad or disquieting or revolting is somehow trying to outsmart you and you're actually very cool & hip for rejecting it in favor of dumb pleasures.

This association leaves two categories of art completely outside of discussion and dying for air. Firstly, art that is joyous and life affirming in a mature and reflective way. It'd seem almost sacrilegious to describe Kiki's Delivery Service as "Wholesome," even though it is such prime comfort cinema there's just so much more to it than that. It's a tangibly adult perspective on the themes it presents. But the "happy=dumb" association is set so deep that nearly all critical discussion about miyazaki's movies is about how pretty and sweet they are. They exist in this category of being overexposed yet somehow still unappreciated.

But then there's the inverse, art that makes you feel like shit in a simple and single minded way. Irreversible is the worst time you can have with a movie, probably, and it (affectionately) has nothing going on under the hood. It's a pain box. This category of art tends to confound folks far more than the previous, it elicits a "what's the point??" usually, or if any concession is made towards allowing uncomfortable art to exist it's with the caveat that it has to "justify" it's discomfort. Simple displeasures don't have the same assumed good faith as simple pleasures. The surface level ways in which a film like Irreversible makes you feel like you've been beat up after it's finished? Not worth mentioning.

There's graver consequences to these two boulder-sized blindspots in artistic conception. Like, because negative emotions are smart, people think that making entertainment out of real life tragedies can be de-facto respectful so long as they make the emotions in their entertainment negative enough. It doesn't matter that Netflix's Dahmer plays defense for the killer and uses the image of black people as a boringly virtuous collection of punching bags to milk tragedy from, if it just makes you feel bad enough, gives the surface level impression of graveness, then it's fine that you're making entertainment out of real life people's personal real life tragedy that still exists in recent memory for many people.

I want to elevate joy, bring it into critical attention, stop taking it for granted. I also want to de-elevate misery, take it off it's false pedestal, let us realize that it's all art. FEELINGS are self justifying, not just good ones.

[kellysue]

The Suit-Making Metaphor

[Written in January, 2024] The cold eventually got bad enough that the Grandma, the kids and I fled to a hotel while Matt stayed at the house with the dogs. We were fortunate to be able to that of course, and sharing a room in a nice warm hotel was not suffering by any stretch of the imagination. Even so, it was stressful. We brought ipads, paints, books and needlework to keep the kids entertained and alleviate some anxiety, but time also had to be made for school work—especially as they would be going back to class just in time for finals. We made lists of their classes, what they had to study, what we could help with and what questions would need to be put to their teachers.

Henry’s 16 now (!!) and instead of an exam, his Humanities final was a personal essay. We chatted a bit about his writing process, what he liked about what he had done so far and what was frustrating for him. Though he had a terrific topic, he’d written and rewritten his opening paragraph several times and wasn’t making any real progress.

Been there, buddy.

As we talked, I stumbled on a metaphor that I found helpful, and so I’m going to try and share with you roughly what I said to him, and perhaps some of you will find it helpful too.

I get it, I do. It’s exactly my inclination as well. But writing like this-- where you try to perfect everything as you go, effectively writing the third draft before you finish the first--it’s like trying to make a suit from the top to the bottom. You can’t make a suit like that. You can’t start with the collar and get that perfected and then move to the shoulder. You can’t topstitch the upper part of the button placket before the bottom even exists. And even if you could figure how to do it that way, your suit isn't going to fit. Because that’s just not the best way to make a suit. Finishing the thing from top to bottom is not the best way to write, either. You start by choosing your fabric—your topic. What material are you going to craft the suit from? What’s the subject of the essay? You want to write about your relationship to various monsters. That’s terrific! That’s like a nice wool; there’s heft there—memories and feelings and personal details that resonate as truths; it should make a rich and interesting suit. Now, instead of cutting out the collar immediately, let’s choose a pattern. We need a pattern to help us cut the wool into the proper shapes. The pattern is the very basic structure of your essay. How might you organize your thoughts and feelings about monsters? The order isn’t as important as the categories. For the suit jacket, we’ll need right front, left front, sleeves, collar, lining etc. For the essay, what monsters do you want to write about? King Kong, the Rancor, the Minotaur and Bernard the Bull. Perfect. Cutting the pattern pieces out is equivalent to gathering your thoughts on each monster. Write freely about each one, taking the time to remember in as much detail as possible where you first encountered each monster, how old you were, etc. Go through each of your senses to help you recall the moment. What did you see? Smell? Taste? Feel? Who was with you? How did you feel in your body? How did you feel in your heart? Include everything that jumps out at you, you can always edit it down later. In our metaphor, this step is not just cutting out the pieces but also taking the time to transfer the pattern marks. You might not need them all, but you're sure to make a finer suit if you have them all available. Once you have the pieces, the next step is to see how they fit together. Read through each monster and look for connections. Is there an order that suggests itself? Rearrange and then edit and expand to highlight those connections. The first pass of this is basting stitches—loose connections just to test the fit—once you’re happy with the shape you can go ahead and lay in seams. Here is where our parallels start to fall apart: For the suit, you’ll want to do all the finishing touches—the handstitching, buttons, pressing, etc.—and then try it on and style it. But in writing your essay, these steps are reversed—styling is crafting the last paragraph, bringing the piece to a close. Your essay doesn’t have to wrap up neatly, in fact, you don’t want it to be too matchy-matchy. Just as an outfit’s style is improved by personal idiosyncrasies, a piece of writing is enriched by the author's capacity to engage with complexity and ambiguity. With the styling done--when you really know what it is you're trying to say--now you can go back with needle and thread and do that hand-stitching: tighten the prose where you can, polish rhythms, word choice, grammar and voice. With the whole of the thing in front of you, you now have what you need to do the kind of “third draft” finishing work that was impossible to begin with.

This might be the very definition of beating a metaphor to death, but I surprised myself with it. It was as revelatory for me as it was for Henry--probably more so.

And with that, I need to get back to those now-422 emails.

Cheers,

Kelly Sue

PS New creator-owned book coming out late fall this year--first launch in a decade or so, I think? I do need to figure out this whole newsletter/blog conundrum sooner rather than later. Advice and opinions welcome.