#that honestly just fuels me more can i be honest

[ghost-bard]

I need to make a shadow dragon and have the craziest homoerotic situationship with elek from the threads its not even funny o my god

[drchucktingle]

this was a comment on one of my post from a recent live event. it was photos of joyful queer buckaroos celebrating together and proving love is real through creation, community, and a trot of love. most important I AM LITERALLY IN PHOTO AS A REAL FLESH AND BLOOD HUMAN

it got me thinking about how DEEP AND VICIOUS the irony poisoning of these early internet communities goes. the way buds like this cannot fathom someone just being a sincere person unrelated to their OWN old days of cynical posting. it is fascinating, and i will admit, sad too

despite a DECADE of work, countless live events, 350 tinglers written well before large language models were a thing, there are still people who cannot imagine someone like me could exist. it is a strange place to be. not just part of me, but my entire EXISTENCE is often gatekept

it is easy to say ‘well chuck your art IS strange’ but honestly i think it is more than that. magical realism is common. there are stories about dinosaurs and bigfeet and unicorns. this scoundrel reaction is about two unspoken things: my art is neurodivergent, and my art is queer

heres the thing: I WILL BE FINE. what concerns me is not an issue of MYSELF, it is a concern for the other young outsider buckaroos who see comments like this one and think ‘is that what they will say if i express MY unique way? will i be dehumanized like this at every turn?'

i will be honest, i cannot say that WONT happen, but i CAN say this: for as deep as this irony poisoning goes, it is slowly dying. the way i was treated at the start of my career is LIGHTYEARS DIFFERENT from the way i am treated now. there is a massive shift towards sincerity

BUT MORE IMPORTANTLY. to young artists trotting up, the things that i am harassed over and doubted for and made fun of for are NOT tangental to what has made me successful, THEY ARE LITERALLY THE SAME THINGS THAT HAVE MADE ME SUCCESSFUL. YES I AM STRANGE, WHAT OF IT?

the things that you tuck away for fear of a review that says ‘there is a PROBLEM with this art because it has always been done another way’ THOSE ARE YOUR SUPERPOWERS. the gatekeepers want you to tuck those parts of yourself away because THEY TUCKED AWAY THOSE PART OF THEMSELVES

never forget that your unique way is PURE UNFILTERED 100 PERCENT ROCKET FUEL. it will stick out (maybe, if you are lucky, scoundrels will even say that someone like you could never actually be real), but sticking out isnt so bad when you are waving the flag of love.

in fact, when youre waving the flag of love, sticking out is pretty dang cool. what are flags for, after all? LOVE IS REAL BUCKAROOS. thank you for reading, and if you enjoyed this long post then please consider preordering BURY YOUR GAYS.

LETS TROT

[koriangguk]

✧ vegas temptation

✧ synopsis: Falling victim to yet another failed situationship, you're consumed by dread. Maybe love is something you aren't destined to experience in this lifetime? Or maybe you just need a little getaway and a friend who'll accompany the series of impulsive decisions this would entail. Thankfully, what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, right?

✧ genre: fake dating au, heavy on smut with a sprinkle of angst

✧warnings: cream play, nipple play, hickeys, different positions, protected/unprotected sex, public nudity (?), tongue-fuck, fingering, denied orgasm, overstimulation, ice play, vibrator play, rope play, candle burns (?) ✧recommended artists: Chase Atlantic, The Weeknd, Daniel Di Angelo, Doja Cat

Everyone knows heartbreak is a pain in the ass, but an intriguing one at that.

It pulls on your heartstrings and fuels the desperate longing to feel whole again. Releasing a tide of emotions that follow suit as your consciousness drowns under the shattering pieces of broken promises, white lies and everything in between. 

But, nothing compares to the ego that awakens within you as you enter a phase of recovery, embarking on the infamous villain arc. One that is flamed with rage and hunger for revenge. 

Because, let's be honest, a good heart can only take you so far until everything comes crashing down again. Before you are back at square one, like clockwork, slaving after hours just to receive the bare minimum. 

So, fuck that and fuck Kim Jaewon. Stupid cunt. 

Honestly, if it wasn’t for Jungkook and his Black Amex you wouldn’t even bother brushing your hair, let alone worry about which lacey lingerie you should pack for a week in Vegas. 

The Entertainment Capital of the World. 

Well, it certainly would be entertaining to put two best friends into a couple’s suite and hope that nothing happens. But, as Jungkook’s dilated pupils watched you swallow your feelings with another shot of tequila it didn’t really seem like he was the one betting on that deal. Quite the opposite actually. 

“Honestly, screw him, y/n.” he muttered, running his fingers through those dark locks as the two of you waited for your flight at the boujee business lounge. 

In contrast to his trust fund upbringing, you felt like the biggest elephant in the room venturing into the wrong tax bracket. So, the potential side effects of the alcohol running down your esophagus were primarily to calm the nerves of sticking out like a sore thumb, and only slightly to forget your ex. 

“Have you been listening at all? I kind of already did.” your lips pursed in annoyance, words barely stringing together. 

You weren't annoyed at Jungkook, per se, more so at yourself for letting it get this far. For intoxicating your system at the crack of dawn, as at least twenty pairs of eyes watched the two of you bicker. But, come on, surely it was 5 pm somewhere. Listen, when everything is already going wrong, how damaging could another bad decision be? Especially, in the form of a liquid. So, please, everyone keep your judgement to yourself. 

“Well, then that might just be the problem.” 

“Huh?” your gaze furrowed, brows knitted with confusion. 

“You’re fucking the wrong guys, y/n.” Jungkook whispered with a sly grin. 

“Right. And you, I’m assuming would have been my Mr. Right, of course.” you scoffed, jabbing your finger into his chest before looking back up at his heavy gaze. 

“Give me a week and we'll see.” he teased, using his foot to pull on your chair, bringing your tipsy form closer until inches were separating your parted lips from his. 

Playful would have been the best word to describe your relationship with Jungkook. You never crossed the line between friends and lovers but were in very close proximity to doing so. So, when you poured your heart out, crying on his shoulder the night Jaewon’s cheating scandal broke out like wildfire, a part of Jungkook was pleased by the news despite how selfish it might have looked. 

Simply put, he was never a fan of your boyfriends. How could he be when the mere sight of another man beside you triggered every cell in his body, charging a visceral reaction that was forced to be suppressed, kept on the low because you were never his to be territorial of. 

Never his to be taken care of. To be loved. Oh, if only you knew how badly he wanted it. How badly he wanted you. 

Only, you did know. Because, like a sickening aftertaste, the tension between the two of you always lingered. But he kept his distance, and you played on with the denial. Praying for each other’s downfall, you hoped that the other would finally cave in, and say the three words that would change the trajectory of your relationship forever. 

But, as time went on, his fetish for your love only grew stronger and an innocent crush matured into a craving. One that could no longer be suppressed no matter how much you tried to push it away. To push him away. 

Jaewon was your last straw. The breaking point that made you question whether you were destined to be loved in this lifetime. And although he caused you pain, you didn’t know if you should thank your ex or curse his whole bloodline, because now that he was gone there was no point in denying that Jungkook and you were more than just friends. 

Lathering the shea butter on your damp skin, your vision was hazy, body seemingly recovering from the hot shower. But, after that 15-hour flight surrounded by multiple throw-ups and diaper changes, a scrub-down was a must. So, there you were standing in front of the full-sized mirror in the pink pyjama set your mom gifted you specifically for this trip. Whatever that meant.  

See, Jungkook had a way with words. It was his charm. His sensual demeanour could have an innocent bystander wrapped around his finger with one plea. A practical skill that most likely fueled your mother’s spending on the silk fabric, but one that you have yet to fall victim to. 

His mind games were strong, but your stubbornness was stronger. He didn’t mind, actually, kind of adored it. The dominant side of you, the way you could shut him up with one glare. It made loving you so much more thrilling, worth fighting for every sigh, every eye roll, every sneer. 

“Stop looking at me like that.” you blurted at the man's reflection as his palms rested on the top of the doorframe, darkened orbs bluntly eying your body from top to bottom. 

“Like what?” Jungkook grinned, nibbling on his lip rings.

“Like you want something.” you whispered with a furrowed gaze, spraying some leave-in conditioner into your detangled hair. 

“Hmm … but, I do want something.” he teased, inching closer before you felt his bare chest hit your back, veiny hands holding onto your waist. 

“I bet. I made rules you know? In case you thought I’d give in so easily.” you murmured, turning to face him as your fingers slightly tugged on the towel wrapped around his hips. 

“Is that so?” he chuckled softly, eyes flickering down to your plump lips. 

“Mhhm,” you nodded, feeling his hands slowly travel up your top as your own intertwined behind his neck. 

“Did I break any already?” he rasped into your ear, teeth grazing against the soft skin. 

Your mouth curled into a mischievous sneer as you whispered, “Just one.” 

However, before he could respond, your fist was already gripping the chains on his neck, gently pulling him toward the king-sized bed that was covered in rose petals and a complimentary note from the hotel. 

Happy honeymoon, lovebirds!

Loosening his towel, Jungkook watched as you straddled his lap, pressing your hands onto his chest before innocently glancing up at his parted lips. You could have sworn a drool dripped down his mouth, but it might’ve just been your ego flying through the roof as you felt his racing heartbeat.   

“May I?” you teased, slowly rocking your hips against the friction beneath you. 

“By all means, love.” he purred, tracing his hands back onto your thighs before flinching at your sudden slap. 

“Hands off, Jeon. Rule number one.” you giggled at the sudden change in his demeanour. The way his furrowed gaze searched for the audacity that could’ve potentially justified the words that came out of your mouth. 

“You’re fucking with me, right?” he groaned, jerking his head back. 

“No?” a small pout worked its way over your innocent face, eyes fluttering. 

“Baby, please.” 

Was he begging? Or were your knees buckling from the fatigue? Whatever. Keep focus, y/n. 

“I warned you, Koo.” you winked, brushing your lips over his before a knock on the door interrupted the little moment. 

“Room service!” a man’s voice echoed from the corridor. 

I guess the sight of Jungkook’s sculpted chest completely hazed your mind as you struggled to recover even the slightest recollection of ordering food. 

“Coming!” you yelled out, planting a kiss on the tip of his nose until his hold on your waist tightened. 

“No, stay.” he murmured, voice laced with desperation. 

“I have to open the door, Jeon, that's kind of how it works.” 

“I like you here.” he grinned, tugging on your bottom lip before leaving a soft spank on your ass. And, as you glanced back at his heaving chest you feared that rule number one was going to be short-lived. 

“Do you like it? They didn’t have Carbonara but I thought shrimp fettuccine would have sufficed,” you said with slight hesitation which shortly dissipated as you watched him empty the dish clean.  

“Trust me, y/n. You being here has already made me a happy man. Everything else is just a cherry on top.” Jungkook smiled, rubbing his tattooed hand along his jaw before reaching for the last plate cover.

“Honestly, I wanted to thank y-,” your words were interrupted by his sudden whine. 

“No dessert?” his brow arched slightly. 

“Oh. Shoot, sorry. I … I didn’t think you’d want any.” your words came out as a stutter, eyes frantically searching for the phone. 

“Mhmm, but I would kill for some cheesecake.” he sighed with a pout, loosening the buttons on his shirt. 

Changing out of the cotton fabric that covered his cucumber-scented body roughly five minutes ago, Jungkook decided to parade the same pyjama set as you. And, now that the two of you were matching, it was clear what your mom’s mission was all along. 

“Yeah, okay, let me just call them b-” 

“No need.” 

“Huh? So, you don’t want dessert?” 

“I do.” he teased, keeping his voice low and calm. 

“Okay, let’s cut back on the riddles, Jeon. Do I call or not?”

But, there was no answer. Instead, he simply excused himself from the table before walking towards the red couch, patting the seat next to him. 

“Come here, y/n.” his voice lowered to a rumble, darkened orbs filled with nothing but lust. 

“Why?”

“If I can’t touch you let me at least taste you.” 

Your heart skipped a beat. Hands fidgeting with the rings on your fingers. 

“I beg your finest pardon?” you scoffed from pure disbelief, folding your arms over your chest. 

“Baby, you have at max three seconds to walk your fine self over here before I grab you myself.” 

“Was that a threat?” you glared at his sly expression, hooded gaze colliding with yours. 

“One …” his tone demanded a response. 

But, you didn’t move. Not even an inch. Aggravating the tension. 

“Two …” 

Who does he think he is? Grab you myself. Claw machine sounding ass. 

“Three …” 

You chuckled, giving him the nastiest eye roll before your muscles tensed up, seeing his 5’8 gym rat physique actually get up. 

“Okay! Alright! I’m coming.” you blurted in sheer panic, fixing your bottoms before doing the walk of shame toward his pleased self. 

Reaching out his hand, you pushed it away, reminding him of the deal. 

“Right here, love.” Jungkook grinned, marking his chest as a target for your landing. 

What a tease. 

“You know what, Koo. Fine. If you want to play games, let’s play a game.” you hissed with a wink, stripping out of the silk fabric before dropping it on his lap.  

“Fucking hell.” a growl escaped his parted lips as his eyes raked over your glistening skin, admiring every inch, every crevice of your body. 

He was needy, but you were too busy rummaging through the mini-fridge to notice how desperately he longed for your attention. 

“Perfect!” you exclaimed, shaking a bottle of whipped cream before straddling his lap once again. Except this time, in your black lingerie. One that was initially reserved for Jaewon’s eyes only until he decided to fuck you over. Now, the privilege was all Jungkook’s. 

“Y/n.” he breathed out heavily, creased forehead resting on yours. 

And, as you pressed your thumb against his chin, your index finger slid along his bottom lip, feeling his tongue lick the cream off your skin. 

“Just like that, baby.” you gave him a tiny nod of reassurance, glancing up at his doe-eyed gaze. 

Fuck, submissiveness never looked this good. 

“Y/n, please.” he whimpered, hands hovering over your skin before you finally gave in, intertwining your fingers with his. 

Unclasping your bra, you let his veiny hands rest on your perky breasts, decorating your hardened nipples with his special treat. 

“Taste me,” you purred, tugging on his bottom lip as his mouth opened in a half-moan. 

He was wasted. Big time. 

“You sure?” he had to double-check, searching your lustful gaze for approval. 

“I am. Enjoy your dessert, Jeon.” the words simply rolled off your tongue, like you’ve been meaning to say them all along. And, as you ran your fingers through his messy hair, slightly tugging on the ends, the built-up need within you slowly inched up, begging for his touch. 

Cupping your breasts in his burning palms, he peppered your skin with sloppy kisses, teeth grazing against the pinks of your sensitive nipples before biting down on the flesh. 

“Fuck” you hissed with your head jerked back. 

Sucking off the creamy delight that painted your swollen tits, his pierced tongue licked its way up to your parted mouth, marking your neck with purple hues of possession. 

“Koo,” you rasped against his ear, shamelessly rocking your hips back and forth as you felt the knot in your stomach tighten. 

“I know, baby.” he muttered, gently lifting your frail body before pinning it against the armrest of the red couch. 

Giving a little shake to the whipping cream that dropped from your hands, Jungkook levelled his face to yours, drawing a line down your stomach. And, as he watched you arch your back from the cold sensation, a spark of temptation danced in his darkened eyes, cheeks flushed from the sinful whimpers that escaped your parted lips until the warmth of his tongue eased the pain. 

Moving down the center line, his fingertips traced your ribs, a faint outline of which poked with each breath you took. In and out, your diaphragm was working overtime, trying to keep up with the suffocating demand. One that only fueled Jungkook’s cravings, as he tugged onto the black lace of your lingerie. 

“Compliments to the chef,” he whispered teasingly, gaze softening at the arousal that had your panties all drenched. 

“Jeon, stop staring, this is so embarrassing.” you whined, voice muffled by the pillow that covered your rosy cheeks as you desperately attempted to close your legs and simply vanish. 

“It’s not my fault someone forgot to order dessert.” he grinned, pulling you closer as his hold on your thighs tightened, before hooking your ankles over his bare shoulders. “Now, please. Let a man eat.”

Admiring your sleeping features, Jungkook cuddled into your chest, planting soft kisses on your marked neck before dozing off inside your arms until the buzzing of your phone startled him right out of REM. 

No Caller ID

“Y/n?” a man’s hesitant voice echoed in his ear. 

“She’s sleeping.” Jungkook muttered, gently stroking your knuckles with his thumb. 

“Who is this? Jungkook, is that you?” Jaewon exclaimed, evidently more on edge than before. 

“What do you want?” 

“Can I talk to, y/n?” 

“As I just said, she’s sleeping.” Jungkook’s tone was low, aggravated by the need to repeat himself.

“Well, can you wake her up?” 

“She seemed quite worn out after the fifth round, so I probably shouldn’t.” a grin curled his lips as you rested your head on his heaving chest, completely naive to the unfolded event. 

“What?” 

“Lose the number, Jaewon.” Jungkook gritted through his teeth, ending the call before tossing your phone on the edge of the bed. 

Feeling the warmth of the sun rays peeking through the silk curtains, you stretched your sore body, patting the mattress next to you before noticing Jungkook’s absence. 

“Mmhm?” you pouted, reaching for your phone to check the time. 

There’s no way you slept through breakfast and he didn’t wake you. Based on your history of ‘hangryness’ and emotional breakdowns that followed suit he should know better. 

7:45 am 

“Jungkook?” you called out, covering yourself with the sheer nightgown before knocking on the bathroom door, waiting for a response. 

Nothing. 

“Jeon?” you called again, this time scanning the living room. Everything looked frozen in time, left untouched from the night before — the empty bottle of wine and the stained glass marked with your red lipstick. But still, no trace of Jungkook.

Going back into the bedroom, you quickly brushed your teeth and changed into a baby blue sundress, opening up the blinds to let in the natural light.

“Shit!” you yelped, widened eyes staring at Jungkook’s sculpted back. 

Sliding the door just enough to pass by, you felt the goosebumps spread across your body as the morning breeze danced around your bare skin. 

“Oh, I thought you quit.” you gasped, brows knitted with confusion as you looked over his broad shoulders, the smell of cigarettes lingering between you two. 

“Yeah, well, I thought you cut ties with Jaewon. So … I guess we’re both disappointed.” Jungkook exhaled sharply, turning his head halfway to take in another puff. 

Something was off, he seemed distant, cold to the touch. 

“What? What are you talking about?” you asked, hands fidgeting with the straps of your dress. 

“He called last night.” 

“Why? Is he okay?” 

And, that’s when he erupted. Back pressed against the railing, his body turned to face your timid form, before muttering, “Do you care?”

“Well, no? But … if we stopped talking and you suddenly called I would want to know why,” you hesitated with the explanation, analyzing the way his forehead creased with each word.  

“Mmhm, except I never treated you like a scrumbag, did I?” Jungkook swallowed, rubbing his tattooed hand along his flexed jaw. 

“True, but you never pursued me either.” you snapped back, arms crossed over your burning chest. 

“This is a prank, isn’t it?” he scoffed maniacally, eyes twitching from disbelief. 

“I’m dead serious, Jeon. Why did you keep your distance if you wanted me so badly?”

He didn’t answer. Letting the two of you stare at each other for a split second, before finally taking a step forward, following your pace as your back hit the glass door. Leaning his hands on either side of your head, his broad shoulders hovered over you.

If this was his attempt at scaring you or somehow making you feel beneath him, it was not working. Because, as his face levelled with yours, your gaze furrowed, never breaking eye contact. Standing firm on what you said. 

“Y/n, I kept my distance because I wanted you so bad.” 

“Kind of dumb, don’t you think?” you pouted with a slight head tilt. 

By now, Jungkook was ready to combust. The adrenaline running through his veins prepared to set off his fight or flight response at any given moment. 

“Okay. Fine. How about I pursue myself into your ass, hmm?” he growled, tone demanding a response. 

“I'd looove to see you try.” you teased, eyes fluttering with innocence. 

“On the bed.” 

“Excuse me?” you scoffed, tongue poking the side of your cheek. 

“You heard me. Chop chop, baby girl.” Jungkook rasped against your ear, nibbling on the soft skin as a final warning. 

To be honest you really didn’t know what you were getting yourself into until his fingers ran down your spine, hands tightening their hold on your hips as his growing boner pressed against the arch of your ass. 

Fuck, he was serious. 

“From now on, I’ll be so close you’d have to scrub my scent off you,” he sneered, gently sliding his two digits over your folds, fingertips coated with your wetness as you remained on all fours. 

“Koo,” you whimpered, tugging on your bottom lip.

Parting your throbbing cunt, his pierced tongue licked your clit, thumb rubbing it in small circles before your moans grew louder. More desperate. More needy. Hazy mind unable to fathom the calmness you radiated just a few minutes ago. 

“Hold on.” he whispered, reaching for his wallet to grab a strip of condoms before ripping one open with his gritted teeth. 

“Tell me if this is dumb enough for you.” Jungkook teased, mouth sliding along your tensed jaw as he rubbed his erection against your clit, resisting the urge to fill you up right then and there. 

It was clear that your words irked him but he had to remain calm enough to not hurt you, forcing his annoyance to cool off with a verbal mock. 

And, as he slowly pushed himself in, whimpers escaped your parted lips, hands gathering up the white sheets into knots, feeling his cock stretch its way in against the warmth of your walls. Cautious of his pace, he needed you to adjust, pulling in and out until there was enough lubrication for the growing friction to feel good, painless.

“Koo,” you whined again, gasping for air as his lips left a trail of open-mouthed kisses down your back. 

“Just like that, baby. You’re doing so good.” Jungkook reassured, softening his hooded gaze upon hearing your sweet sounds. The ones that poisoned his thoughts and invaded his dreams all those countless nights. 

Clenching your clit on his throbbing length, his vision grew in and out of focus, hissing at the tingling sensation. 

“Fuuuck, y/n.” he moaned, fingers digging into your ass, before jerking his head back. 

Picking up his pace, Jungkook went faster and harder. Slamming himself into you, until his twitching tip touched the surface of your cervix, making your toes curl in ecstasy, as a trail of juices ran down your trembling thighs. 

“Jeon, I'm gonna faint.” you cried out, feeling your throat tighten, lungs stripped away from air.

“Just a little longer, baby.” he muttered, chest heaving up from exhaustion. 

He was close. Very close. So, as your walls clenched around him for the sixth time, he could have sworn his dick melted. Became part of your anatomy, no longer attached to his person. Surrendered with a white flag. 

“Y/n, look at me.” he urged breathlessly, snapping the rubber off his sensitive dick before giving it a few more pumps, squirting his cum onto your displayed tongue, completely exasperating in the process.  

“So,” you swallowed obediently, “now that you've pursued my ass you'll quit smoking, right?” your doe-eyed gaze glanced up at his darkened orbs that watched you lick the dripping cum off his tip as you sat on your knees. Aware of his response, you brushed your lips against his, inviting his tongue inside before his burning body collided with yours, smiling into the deep kiss. 

“Well, technically, I didn't go near your ass. Not many girls like that.” Jungkook teased, tucking a few curls behind your ear.  

“Many girls, huh? How many?” you murmured, tracing the tattoos on his arm as your bodies laid skin to skin, staring at the white ceiling. 

“About five.” he answered, a bit too quickly for your liking. 

“Five? You man whore.” you scoffed with disgust, quickly retracting your hand from his. 

“Sometimes six, depending on which video loads first.” his nose scrunched in a tiny giggle once he saw your mouth drop, expression left dumbfounded as the dots in your head began to connect. 

So, that's what kept him busy all this time. Porn? Phenomenal. 

“Next time, I'll just stay curious.” you sighed, half disappointed yet, also relieved. He might’ve just lied straight to your face but sometimes, it's better to simply pick your battles, choosing to live in blissful ignorance than the chaos of reality. Whatever his reality entails.

[nishloves]

svt with pillow princess s/o

words : 1k // genre : nsfw reactions // warnings : use of a few derogatory pet names.

choi seungcheol - urges you to ride him even though he knows that you'll get tired pretty soon.he loves to watch your hips stutter and watch your whole body shake as you're trying to reach your high but you're oh so tired.

your whines for him to take control are music to his ears as he grins and admires your worn out expressions, on the few days you want to be the top and the giver he will deliberately hold back his cum so that in the end you'll have to beg him for release. "you're tired? weren't you wanting to pleasure me through the night, sweetheart?" yoon jeonghan - you're a pillow princess? he's not big on stamina either- so what do you do? loads and i mean loads of lazy sex. expect him to slip between your folds while you're cuddling and he's for sure gonna edge you. you need more stimulation? but jeonghan is tired too! his pace is torturously slow as he rams himself into you, doesn't move until you literally cry/beg him to help you out. hong jisoo - complies; yes, once in a while he does like to be on the receiving side but mostly, he's happy to give you whatever you want. kisses your lips softly while he's going at his fastpace too- just butterflies all over your body. but, BUT once in a while- if you're being whiny, be prepared to be edged out till the dawn of the other morning because joshua loves it when you beg, but he won't tolerate whiny sluts <3 wen junhui - probably the sweetest among all omg! would happily give you whatever you want, lay you down on the bed, with a pillow below your hips as he works hard to help you reach your high, stimulates your clit so that your pleasure increases tenfold and will happily fondle your breasts! "you want me to go faster? anything for you baby." kwon soonyoung - i have this image- listen to me! two-three pillows under your hips for better arch as he slowly pushes his dick into you, one of his hands just below your waist and the thumb of his other hand subtly rubbing your clit, he's eerily slow though- he would relish the way your walls feel around him as you repetedly ask him- touch him to move faster, he won't comply- he won't listen to you until he feels like he is near and will 100% get you to agree for more rounds, man has endless stamina and patience- good luck. (he'll be mean too T-T) jeon wonwoo - d e g r a d e s . "my little slut wants me to do all the work, hmm?" he turns you around, pillows under your body as he props your ass up, sliding in his cock as deep as he can before he rams himself back in you. honestly- he's way too happy to have a control over you, it just fuels his calm ego whenever you're begging him to be fast (or slow). lee jihoon - he's somewhat like jeonghan, jun and cheol combined. on his lazy days or on the days when he really needs to work, he will ask you to cockwarm him, but his patience is far better than cheol or jeonghan; if you're riding him he will make you work for it despite knowing of your "princess" habits. he doesn't care, even the most arrogant of princess (you) will beg him for more friction, why not enjoy your stubbornness more? on the days when he's ready to pay attention to you- uhm... well, all the best, i guess. xu minghao - d e g r a d e s p t 2. oh boy, he will take care of you, goes as slow or fast as you want; touches you wherever you ask him to, but all while degrading you to the core- embarrassing the fuck out of you, eliciting the strangest whimpers, noises and retorts out of you as he obediently complies with all your wishes, only if you're nice and polite tho &lt;3 kim mingyu - service top! kim mingyu at your service your highness, you need his hands there? or rather his tongue? he'll give it all to you, you just need to ask for it once and he's at your door. doesn't even care about his pleasure at the moment to be honest- it's all about how to pleasure you, which does make you feel a little guilty afterwards.

lee seokmin - complies pt2, it doesn't matter- what you want, you get. sex could be pretty vanilla with him but the moment you look at his pretty face as he's pleasuring you and doing all of the work, your libido just increases tenfold. he's a sweetheart tho, will do and stop whenever you want <3

boo seungkwan - he's confusing, on the few days when he's feeling all generous and giving, he's down to do whatever you want- give you everything you need- but the day his resolve breaks- he's having you sit on him for hours, not doing anything and just scrolling through his phone, you need to work for your release then- he can be selfish too, albeit only a few times.

chwe hansol - he can be quite lazy at times- so expect something like jeonghan 60% of times, but on the days he's not- he's gripping your hair or neck, his hands tracing your body as he's ramming into you, as fast as you want while he's worshipping your body.

lee chan - he likes giving more than he likes receiving when it is the matter of sex, so he happily complies to all of your wishes- he asks you if your position is comfortable or not and if its getting too much for you to handle, but on the few days when you want to return the favour to him, his eyes widen like that of saucers as he almost whimpers at the imagination- yeah, i don't think you can stay a pillow princess for too long.

[beuxwhoyouare]

Ready to Go

I always thought I would die young. I just don’t forsee a long life ahead for me. It’s not like sad or anything I just think I’ve done all I wanted to. There’s never been like a dream job or goal I’ve ever foresaw in my future. It’s not depression or anything, if anything I think more people should be honest with themselves about being useless and just tapping out of a long life of nothingness.

See. You’ve read this long and didn’t even notice I haven’t mentioned my name. That’s because like my life, my name is equally inconsequential.

I was pondering about ways to easily tap out of life while I sat at the bus stop waiting. Eventually I got on the bus at my usual stop to take me to my usual destination when an older white man slowly waved his hand in front of my wandering gaze.

“What’s out there?” he feebly asked in a weak voice.

I’ve never been asked something on my route before. I kinda just zone out into my own mind like this and-

“Hey kid. You keep zoning out are you okay?” he interrupted my internal thought.

It’s like he knew I was talking to myself but how?

“I’m just in my own head. Sorry did you want the window seat?” I finally replied audibly.

“No. Just making sure you’re okay. Was worried you were one of those druggies or something. Whole life ahead of you and you youngins just throw it all away.”

What a presumptive thought. He really believes that young people can’t have a complex and existential inner dialogue. I think older people don’t give us enough credit. I’m complex, I think.

*hehe*

What’s he laughing at. Wait maybe he is listening to my inner dialogue? Let’s see. Lemme think of something and see how he responds. I don’t want to die, I just want to peacefully tap out of the game of existence.

Damn nothing? He isn’t going to say anything? I’m losing my mind.

“Where do you want to go in life kid?”

HE HEARD ME I KNEW IT!

“I mean let’s say you manifested it enough. Maybe I’m here to help you move on. The worst thing you can do is live a life unfulfilled. It seems like that’s how you’re living.”

“You can’t be serious…What can you do?”

“It’s not really me, more like a pact to the deities that rule existence. It’s the law of the land. Everything in this world is all about balance. Even our lives, if one aspect is out of balance it could throw the whole world out of whack.”

“So what’s out of balance? Just because I’m tired of being aimless in life? It’s not like I’m the only aimless one right?”

“Maybe you’re not the only one, but you’re the only aimless one put in my life. I have so much I wanted to do but spent too much time wasted. I wanted kids, I wanted love, I wanted it all but got sick and spent years withering away in a hospital bed.”

….why is he telling me all this? What can I do about the law of the land? If I could help him I would but he’s talking about myths and hocus pocus.

The bus made an abrupt stop next to a big park near a historical reserve in town. The old man grabbed my arm and dragged me with him off the bus, across the street to the park.

“Dude your boney arm is hurting me. I’ll follow you just let me go”

“We’re here anyway. I can feel one of the deity’s presence around us. All you have to do is say your true hearts desire out loud for it to become true. You can’t move on and I can get a chance to fix my life’s shortcomings.”

My true hearts desire? Doesn’t he get it my problem is I don’t have a desire. There’s nothing fueling me.

“That! Say that out loud.”

“I KNEW YOU COULD HEAR ME! But how?”

“Your inner dialogue was calling to me like a siren. I’m telling you I was meant to hear it. To run into you! This moment was meant to happen.”

Honestly resisting the occult is too much work anyway. I don’t know why I’m even poking and prodding into his story. What is it going to do for me in the end? He’s offering me a way out.

“I don’t have desire. I don’t have a goal. I’m not sad, I’ve lived an okay life but I’m done.”

“I want a real chance to live life. I payed my dues. Please all I ask for is a real chance.”

If felt like all the sounds of nature stopped. The sun suddenly disappeared and it felt like a spotlight appeared above us. All I could see was the old man when he disappeared in front of me. It all disappeared in front of me. Then silence. Well everything was silent from then on. My request to tap out was granted.

“Keven. I like that name, I definitely look like a Keven now. This is a good place to start I think?”

I feel bad that a young person could fall out of love with existing. There’s so much young people have to live for and he just wanted to die? I’ll live the best live for the both of us.

I’m quite the looker now too so that should probably help on the having kids and starting a family front. Although he’s a little short for my liking. You know what no I’m going to be grateful for this new life I’ve been given. There’s still some memories in my head that belong to him. I think he might be gay….well I never got to explore those things in my time but it doesn’t help the kids dream.

Whatever I think starting today I’m going to be Bi. I’m gonna search through these memories and continue working out. Seems like it has a positive impact on people’s outlook and morale. Maybe that’s where the kid went wrong. He didn’t seek ways to be happy. I’m choosing happiness and choosing to be fulfilled.

Let’s start by jerking this thick beer can growing under my shorts though…and maybe seeing if this hot couple in the gym might want a newly confident Latino twunk third.

[desolateyears]

Have a mini fic about Steve annotating books and Eddie finding it really hot🖤

So obviously, Eddie's a bookworm. Before he had any friends, he spent the better parts of his childhood at Hawkins Library after school and Hawkins Middle's library during any recesses and lunches. He constantly read books, this was before Wayne got him a guitar and before he got into dnd, and being a bookworm tremendously helped him fuel both of those hobbies later on. But before then? The library was like a second home to him. 

And so, recently founding out that Steve reads, like a lot, is something of a revalation. It's not that Eddie thinks the guy is stupid, but he figured the guy spent time doing other productive hobbies at home. But the guy reads, and as previously mentioned, Eddie considers himself a literature connoisseur of sorts. Writing book reports and essays were one of the few things he actually excelled at in high school. 

So anyway, he found out that Steve is a book nerd by finding one of Steve's books open on his bed. Not really the strangest thing that Eddie's come across in Steve's room if he's being honest, and not the biggest indicator of nerdiness, until he focuses his attention and acknowledges the bright colors sprawled across the pages. 

A burst of rainbow colors underlining what Eddie guesses are his favorite parts of the story or important stuff he wanted to remember. And obviously, Eddie has to ask him about it. and Steve explains to him that he has a whole color key and it's made up of romantic lines that make him feel warm, sad stuff that makes him tear up, stuff that is word for word undoubtedly Steve Harrington sprawled on a page. Steve won't tell him which color is which, too embarrassed by it, but he lets Eddie read through them, and then he stares at Steve in unyeilding fondness. 

The look reflected on Steve's is not the same, mostly anxiety and insecurity, which Eddie immediately wants to soothe. It's so so sweet he thinks but Eddie's mouth translates the words into, "That's so fucking hot." Which, shit man, it is but he hadn't meant to say it out loud. 

"Shut up, dude, don't make fun of me right now." 

And listen, books are everything to him, this is no joking matter. They inspire his own stories, whether through a dnd campaign or writing song lyrics. It's honestly probably the most attractive thing a person could do in Eddie's opinion, he didn't know how hot until right about now, but he'll die on this hill. Annotating your books is hot. 

"Listen to me when I say this Steve, while that is the nerdiest thing I've ever heard and I'm, ya know, me. It's also about the most attractive thing that's come out of that pretty mouth of yours, like ever."

And Steve folds his arms across his fucking beautifully sculpted chest and narrows his eyes just slightly, raising a judgemental eyebrow at him. 

"You're being serious."

Oh he's never been more serious about anything in his life. 

"Uh...yeah? Yes. Oh my god."

Yeah, real eloquent Edward. 

Whatever, his heart is pounding profuesely against his rib cage because holy shit Steve is a book nerd and Eddie wants to kiss him fucking yesterday. So he gets on all fours on Steve's bed to lean forward and basically attacks his mouth before he can even think about it. 

And when he pulls back, Steve's pupils are blown wide and his breath has picked up pace, and Steve keeps bouncing between looking at Eddie's eyes and his lips. 

"You just kissed me."

It comes out disbelieving. 

"Yeah and with your permission I'd like to continue, like stat, immediately, now."

"You're insane."

And hands weave through curls and pull. 

Eddie tumbles foward, ending fully sprawled on top of Steve, and, jesus christ, body pressed impossibly close to his. 

And after they're romantic, read: nerdy horniness, little makeout session, he forces Steve to read the annotations himself, going through all the books that are important to Steve. He has to stop himself from moaning to really emphasize how hot he finds it, and to make Steve slightly embarrassed, but refrains. Just lets him continue. 

Eddie has never been so in love in his life.

[sunarc]

Do We Have a Deal

Synopsis: Your shy sweet tutor could use a lesson of his own

Character:Choso x reader

CW:afab reader, smut with a little plot, cum eating, unprotected sex(wrap that willy), riding, kinda dom reader, reader is sassy, choso is shy, alcohol consumption, oral m receiving ,3.5k words, collegeau

A/N: i wanna rub my pussy juice on choso’s face also thankyou to @aztecbrujeria for fueling me with Choso content that basically motivated me to write!

Choso gets sweaty palms when he just so much as looks at you. His breathing becomes jagged and he finds himself holding his chest in an attempt to contain his sudden excitement. His eyes scanned over the crowded room watching the way people danced, sweaty bodies pressed against one another.

“You’re too tense, have a drink” Itadori’s voice yelled over the obnoxiously loud music.

This isn’t the kind of scene choso would normally find himself in. He’s not a partier yet, somehow he found himself pressed against a corner wall watching with fatigued eyes as sweaty bodies grind on one another. He’s not a drinker yet somehow he found himself gulping down large amounts of alcohol and grimacing after each sip. The only real reason he can say he’s here for is you. You love to party. You’re honestly the exact opposite of him if he’s being honest. You’re outgoing, you seem to always know the right things to say. Your laugh, my god your laugh, it’s one of the only things Choso can hear over and over again. You are such a ball of sunshine Choso finds himself squinting whenever he stares at you. He watched with low lidded eyes as you mingled with the crowd. Your clothes were skin tight showing off every curve. Choso's eyes analyzed every inch of skin he saw. Your plush thighs jiggled with each step you took, your plump lips formed a gentle smile. Choso wasn't a fan of sweaty bodies but the way your skin looked glistening covered in a sheen of sweat left him wondering, what other parts of you look as glorious as this? He shook his head almost embarrassed by the lewd thoughts that plagued him. His feet dragged him to the nearest exit. It was hot There were so many sloppily drunk people falling over him. He almost tripped over someone laying on the floor. His face scrunched up at the sight.

Parties are so silly , he thought to himself. He wondered why you liked them so much. He found himself standing aimlessly at the front entrance. He could have push his way back in through the sweaty bodies and find some sense of purpose in the party. He’d rather not waste his time doing that. He sat on the porch tapping his foot to the sound of the muffled music inside.

“You don’t seem like the party type” a voice rang out behind him.

“I’m not,” he answered without looking.

He felt a body plop down next to him unnaturally close. The skin to skin contact normally would have annoyed him but his head turned to see you sitting smiling at him. Your eyes were low and he could tell you had been drinking.

“Why are you here then” You questioned with a smug smirk.

Choso staresd wondering why you were outside with him right now. You looked exceptionally beautiful in the moonlight. You smelled nice too. He wondered how you could be so put together even when you had an altered state of mind. His eyes moved down to your lips. They looked so plump and soft. He was so caught up in you he nearly missed what you said to him.

“I-I’m sorry what was that?” he was usually never this nervous.

He fumbled over his words. His palms are even more sweaty than before. He’s fearful you might hear the way his heart is pounding in his chest.

“I asked if you were okay,” you smiled softly “ You’re out here all alone and I just wanted to check up on you”

What a kind soul you are.

“I’m alright, I’m just not a party guy” he said lowly “Why are you out here”

He wanted you to say because you were following him. He wanted you to say you couldn’t stand the thought of being at a party where you couldn’t find his face in the crowd.

“Someone threw up on the couch and it smelled horrendous” you said showing disgust at the memory.

Oh.

“And I saw you leave I just wanted to check up on my friend”

Oh?

“I um “ he felt himself growing even more nervous and he couldn't help but laugh at himself.

“You’re laughing”

“I am” he wasn't sure if it was the alcohol that caused the sudden surge of bravery but his words shocked him “You make me nervous” he voiced

“I can tell” you said.

There was a silence between the two of you. It wasn't one that was awkward more so one that made him smile. He could feel your eyes staring at him causing him to feel hot all over.

“You never answered my question”

His eyes met yours and he almost regret turning to you.

“What question”

“If you’re not a party guy why are you here.”

You sat back leaning on your hands eyes never leaving him.

“You” he wished he could take the simple word back. His face went a sharp red. He turned away embarrassed at his sudden bravery.

“Me?” you said leaning forward coming close to him.

���Yes” his voice cracked and he wanted to hide away in a hole.

“But…” you leaned close, so close Choso was almost positive he could feel your lips against his skin. Your chest pressed against his arm and he could see the smug smile you had knowing the effect you had on him. You gave him a soft giggle before pulling back just enough to stare at him.

“You never speak to me when you come to these parties.” You said.

Your hand reached for his hand. He knew his palms were sweaty and he wanted to pull away to dry them but you moved too fast. You held his hand looking at the way his veins showed . His fingers were thick and his hand were wide.

“You only ever speak to me when we have our tutoring sessions together” You said still staring at his hand. You massaged the skin before feeling his arms. His muscles felt tense and you could tell he was growing more and more nervous by the second.

“You are a really good tutor by the way” you smiled “Why don’t you ever talk to me? Aren't we friends?” you said pushing a loose strand of hair from his face. He opened his mouth to speak but before he could voice his thoughts you were already saying the words he couldn't bring himself to say.

“I make you nervous” you whispered. Your voice was sultry.

Choso couldn't help the lewd thoughts that crossed his mind. He wondered how sultry your voice would sound moaning his name. He let out a breathy laugh unable to form any reply. His skin felt warm all over. Your body is pressed so close to him he didn’t even realize. You’ve never been this close with him, not even during your tutor sessions. You typically sat across from him staring and chatting away instead of paying attention to his dull intellectual words. You were never one for boring lectures, he learned the quickly. You liked to joke, you were quick witted and you always gave him silly nicknames that he never really minded.

You stood quickly and Choso’s eyes followed your figure. You held your hand out to him with a delicate smile.

“Walk me to my dorm?”

This wasn’t something new. Choso had walked you to your dorm room countless times after a tutor session. He wiped his hands against his jeans in an attempt to wipe away the sweat before grabbing your hand. Choso’s cheeks never burned so much before. You held his hand pulling him closely behind you. His feet dragged closely behind you. He bit his lip wondering what he could say in this moment.

Say something

He took a deep breath.

“So how did you do on your test?”

What are you a professor? Why are you asking about school?

He regretted the words immediately.

“Is that really what you want to know right now?” you turned to him.

“No”

“Then ask me something you care about?”You teased

He couldn't think. He could barely even focus on how to walk. One foot in front of the other he thought, chanting the words over and over in his head.

“Why do you come to these parties?” he asked hesitantly.

“Hm” you said thinking “ For you I guess” Choso hesitated cocking his head to the side in confusion.

“What do you mean for me?”

“I come because you always seem to be at these parties, you come so often even though you stand in a corner looking like you hate everything” you said keeping a steady walking pace “I never really understood but I guess I do now. You’re just so intriguing” you continued.

Choso hung onto every word. His breathing was heavy as he leaned forward captivated by your voice.

“You find me intriguing?” he almost forgot everything you had just said focusing solely on that part.

“I do” you said stopping in your steps turning to him. His eyes stared down at you scanning over your body then to your lips.

“I find you so intriguing and I wish you would talk to me about more than just school.” you took a step towards him. Your hand glided up his arm to wrap around the back of his neck. You pulled him close to you. Your lips were inches apart. Choso’s eyes were filled with lust.

“I want to know so much about you” you pressed a kiss to his cheek “I want to know what drives you crazy” you pressed a kiss to his other cheek. You leaned back staring at his lips.

“I want to know what can I do to ease those nerves” your lips pressed against his for the first time and you felt chills run through your body. His arm wrapped around your waist pulling you in to deepen the kiss. Your lips moved in sync as if the two of you were meant for each other. It was messy but in the most perfect way. Choso could taste the liquor on your lips, it had never tasted so good. You pulled away and he followed wanting more of the taste of you.

“Come to my room” you whispered

Choso looked up not even realizing that the two of you were standing in front of your dorm. He wanted to go with you he swore it but he was so anxious he could barely move his feet.

“You’re drunk” he said.

“Sober enough to know what I'm doing though” you replied.

Quick witted as always

He didn’t realize how his feet followed you with barely any hesitation. He could feel his heartbeat growing stronger. The walk through the hall felt extraordinarily long. It’s so quiet he was positive this time you could hear how fast his heart was beating. You reached your dorm room and pulled him in. You led him through the apartment like room. His feet follow yours matching each step you took. Your room was nice, It smelled like you. You turned to him, slipping off your top. You stared at him watching the way his face turning a bright red. Your hands grab his leading them to your chest.

“You act like its your first time”

His eyes were wide. He tore his eyes away from you.

“I uh” he cleared his throat “I’m a virgin”

You smile holding his hands against your chest.

“I can teach you” you said. Your voice was soft and Choso couldn’t help but lean into you.

“T-teach me?” he stuttered

“Let me help those nerves, let me give you a lesson for once” you said emphasizing the 'you'. Your hands help Choso’s hands to massage your chest. Your eyes stare into his waiting for him to allow you to do as you pleased. He looked nervous scared almost as if he was afraid to have you in such an obscene way.

“I- are you sure” he asked in a shaky voice.

“Of Course. I want you Choso. Can I have you?” You were so close to him he could feel your breath fan across his skin. Choso closed his eyes silently praying this wasn't a dream but if it was he’d gladly entertain it.

“God you don’t understand how bad I want you”

His lips pressed against yours in an eager kiss. Heavy breathing filled the room. Your hands both scanned each others body leaving little to nothing untouched. His hands squeezed at your skin as he hungrily pressed his body against yours. The bulge in his pants began to grow. Your fingers danced against the hem of his pants.

“I’m gonna give you something special just for being so good for me Choso”

You got on your knees and unbuttoned his pants, eyes never leaving his nervous ones.

“It’s okay” your said breathlessly as you pulled his underwear down freeing his cock. “I’m gonna take real good care of you.”

You gave the tip of his cock a kiss before sliding his length into your mouth.

Choso was big. His cock was thick and long and almost impossible to take whole. You couldn’t believe he was keeping all of this to himself. Your head bobbed along his length slowly. You let out soft moans. The vibrations of your moans left Choso shaking. He rocked his hips into your mouth in a delicate motion as if afraid he’d hurt you. He slipped his shirt off tossing it to the side revealing his toned chest. His hand came up to his hair gripping the strands. He looked down watching the way your mouth stretched to take his cock. Drool pooled down the sides of your mouth. Choso couldn’t help but think of how pretty you looked taking his cock like this.

“F-fuck you’re gonna make me lose it” he whimpered.

You let out a small laugh as you released his cock from your mouth with a popping sound. Your hand stroked him while your tongue licked the tip causing him to shiver.

“If you cum in my mouth I promise I’ll let you make a mess in my pussy”

Choso’s eyes grew wide at your words. You took his length back in your mouth, bobbing your head in a slow teasing motion. His hands grabbed at your hair pulling gently. He stared down at you, jaw hanging slowing.

“I’m so sorry “ the words slipped past his mouth as his hips picked up speed rocking into your mouth. You let out gagging noises as his cock touched the back of your throat. Choso’s groans and whimpers began to fill the room. He couldn’t contain himself as he fucked himself into your mouth.

“I-I’m so fucking sorry Angel” he panted “You’re mouth is just so warm and good I can’t help myself.”

He let out desperate whines as he continued his abuse to your mouth. He threw his head back letting out a strained moan as his cum filled your mouth. He looked down at you eyes filled with desire and concentration as he watched his cum drool down the corner of your mouth. He pulled his cock out using it to wipe your lips. You licked the cum off his cock with a giggle. Choso didn’t even recognize his actions. He never thought he would be one to make a pretty girl lick the cum off his cock yet here he was shoving his cock back into your mouth just to make sure you swallowed all of it.

“You look so pretty”

You stood up and grabbed Choso by the back of his neck and pulled him in for a wet kiss. The kiss was messier than before. Your spit mixed with his as your tongue pushed against his. The two of you took off your remaining clothes before you pushed him down onto the bed. He sat watching you crawl into his lap with wide eyes.

“You’ll be a good boy for me and make my pussy nice and creamy for me right?” you moaned the words as you placed the tip of his cock at your entrance.

Choso almost went feral feeling you slid down onto his cock. His eyes rolled to the back of his head as your walls squeezed around him. This feeling was completely different from your mouth. It had him breathless without you even moving. His mouth hung open drooling gliding down to his chin. His hands found their way around you hips squeezing at your skin. You bounced your hips up and down in a slow pattern. Choso cursed to himself quietly noting that you liked to tease. He had never felt anything like this in his life. The way you felt gliding up and down on his cock. Your slick dripped down making a puddle around his core. He thought he might lose his mind. Your chest bounced up and down as you moved. Choso couldn't help but bring one of your nipples into his mouth. He sucked and nibbled at the bud causing you to moan. His hands wrapped around your body clawing at your skin.

“Please” he whimperd. He wasn't sure what he was begging for but it was the only word he could think of along with a string of curses. His hips bucked roughly up into yours meeting your movements. His hands moved to grip the fat of your ass squeezing harshly. His nails dug into your skin. Choso never thought he would be one to whimper and moan so much during his first time but the noises that slipped past his lips were euphoric to your ears.

“You’re- fuck” he could barely form a sentence as he was cut off from the pleasure of your gummy walls squeezing him so tight.

“You like that?” you asked.

Choso almost missed you words as he was so concentrated on shoving his cock upwards into you. Your hand squeezed his jaw forcing him to make eye contact with you. Tears brimmed his eyes. He had never felt so desperate and needy before in his life.

“I asked you a question pretty boy” you said as you threw your ass back onto his cock.

The sound of his balls slapping against your skin filled the room, yet somehow not overcome by the lewd sounds of Choso’s moans.

“You like the way my pussy feels sucking you in hm?” You whispered the words into his ear.

“Yes I-I love it so much” he choked out. “Pussy feels so good” he grunted

You let out a pleased hum at his words. You placed wet kisses down his neck that you’re sure will leave a mark.

“You’re mine now Choso” You whisper the velvety words into his ear.

Choso let out a whimper.

“Please” he whined “ Please let me cum”

You bounced up and down chasing after your own orgasm.

“I like it when you beg” the words dripped down your tongue “ cum for me baby”

Choso’s eyes saw stars as he came. His thrust were wild as he fucked you through his and your orgasm. His teeth clamped onto your shoulder as he lost control. He never felt something like this before, not even during his late night sessions of touching himself to the thought of you. Those short skirts you would wear to your tutor sessions or the way you would bend over to grab your pencil showing him the pretty panties you would wear always left him feeling insatiable. Never did he think that he’d have the chance to fuck you so sloppily, watching the way his cum dripped out of your hole onto his cock. He leaned his head back breathing heavily still holding your body against his chest.

“I- fuck - wow you’re amazing” he was at a loss for words.

“So were you tutor, how does it feel having pussy for the first time” you asked giving him a kiss on the cheek.

“Wow” was all he could manage to say. His eyes were dilated. You knew he was too fucked out of his mind to really speak.

“Let’s make this a regular thing, you tutor me in physics and i’ll tutor you in sexology” you giggle at the made up subject name “deal?”

Choso looks at you with doe eyes

“Deal.”

[pixeltwix]

{The Disconnect & The Spiral}

(I realize this isn’t my usual content, but hear me out, the rekindled GF fixation is going hard rn)

- -As an avid fan of Gravity Falls and an even bigger fan of the tragic old man lore packed into the mystery trio, I honestly gotta say..

I refuse to believe this is the full story towards WHY Fiddleford and his wife had a whole blasted argument over…him forgetting to get her a Christmas present?? Upon reading this section, I can frankly say I had a similar reaction to Ford. The immediate sense of, ‘really? That’s it? Your family reunion was torn up over that?’

I mean- your husbands been gone for lord knows how long, your young son also hasn’t seen him in ages, and let’s be honest- with how much trauma the ole hillbilly is stacking up on a day to day through his adventuring with Ford, how often is he actually able to call home or write a letter with a sound mind?

It just doesn’t feel feasible that a man who started this journey so troubled and in yearning to return home to family would be so forgetful as to not scrimmage up not even a souvenir or postcard from Gravity Falls for his family. So what is it then? Perhaps he’s become so averse to everything in the small town he wouldn’t dare bring a trace of it home with him, or rather, he truly had forgotten some small one off promise he made. Perhaps he’s forgotten a lot by this point-

Because of lack of dates on a majority of his entries it’s a little difficult to put together a timeline of when Fiddleford finished his memory wipe gun and when he started using it. By all means he racked up a lot of memories he wished to forget in the beginning being as quote ‘weak minded’ as he is. But then of course we all know he becomes addicted to quite literally erasing every little inconvenience until of course the end result. The freedom of a clear mind outweighing all consequences for him.

Instead however I choose to believe these were the first persisting side effects of his machine. We know enough about it now to get the fair suggestion that even one use of the memory wipe gun can be more damaging than can truly be discerned, so seeing as he quite possibly has used it at least twice by now- both events he used them for being extensive (the shifty incident and the gremloblin incident cited in journal 3) I believe it only fair to assume this quoted argument he got into with Emma-May was hardly over one measly little present. True, we have no frame of this woman much less the rest of the family (minus what we get of Tate once he’s grown), but I am TRULY giving her the benefit of the doubt in believing her husbands mind has begun to scatter in ways he didn’t even realize. So much to the point that a fight possibly fueled by ‘it’s not just about the Christmas present, it’s about ————“ would truly confuse him

I say that in the kindest way, I love Fiddleford, truly he’s the most tragic character in my mind regarding this story, but the man’s self destruction and drift from his family had to have started somewhere. And just like any addiction that can tear a family apart, this one was definitely packing punches. I realize I don’t have much backing, and I’m really just rambling some nonsense, but Alex Hirsch just doesn’t feel like one to write a one off ‘oh by the way this silly reason is why Fidds is alone from his family for the holidays, something he clearly holds a deep fondness for’. Nah, that man is too cryptic for him to write something like that and for me to not overthink it <3

(But with all that said and done- dear god the snow globe cabin and the knitted six fingered gloves literally killed me- that hillbilly is such a damn sweetheart, it can almost make me ignore the doom that will befall him and the town <3!!)

[redbleedingrose]

I’m half asleep while writing this and laughing my ass off while imagining this lol.

Imagine you’re arguing with Rhys over something stupid and you start to realize you’re wrong but won’t admit it so you just flash him your breasts and his mind just short circuits and completely forgets about the argument.

He wouldn’t know what to do with himself lol

It took me way too long to type this out. I just needed to get this out of my head before I fell asleep and forgot it.

OMG! I actually love this idea and have been thinking about it since you sent it. Like I cannot stop thinking about Rhys and all you all are fueling my LOVE for this male!!!! Send help!!!!

Arguing with Rhysand

to be honest, do I think you and Rhys have arguments over serious stuff frequently? No, absolutely not. For the most part, if you guys have an argument, it tends to be something that is resolved with a short, heated conversation and then hours of you both making it up to each other, especially with him on his knees with your legs thrown over his shoulders.

And you guys tend to agree with each other on the more serious stuff. You work together as a couple and as high lord and lady of the night court to solve some of the most complicated matters regarding the state of your court and inter-court relations.

But!!! I do think you tend to start silly arguments with him to mess with him. Rhys needs to be taken off his high horse, the arrogant male he can be, and who better perfect to do that than his mate, the love of his life, the brightest star in his night sky??

It would kinda go something like this:

"C'mon Rhysie, you can't be serious," with your arms folded over your chest, annoyed at your mate who is settled on the bed, long strong legs crossed with his arms behind his head, a smug glint in his pretty violet eyes.

"Oh Darling, you know I am right." his eyebrows are lifted, urging you to argue back with him, his fucking smirk sending tingles down your spine.

"No Rhysand. Honestly, you aren't," you tilt your chin up, hurrumphing at your mate. You honestly are shocked your mate is arguing with you about this.

The high lord of night court, death incarnate, the darkness of the night, is truly, actually, arguing with you that he cooks better than you.

That fucking feline, arrogant bastard.

"You couldn't even cook until I came into your life," you hiss at him, rolling your eyes at him when he snorts, his face bright as he throws his tattooed forearm over his eyes in obvious amusement.

"And?" he says, peaking out from under his arm with another smile tugging at his lips.

"And???" you gasp. That fucking...

"I cannot believe you right now, my lord," the last bit is muttered mockingly.

His nose scrunches, "Not the 'my lord' darling, it really is not that serious. It's okay my love. I cook better than you and that is okay. You don't even need to cook darling, you only ever have to sit with me while I cook and look pretty, as you always do."

"I just... you are so mean to me. I cannot believe you are even telling me this, like... I obviously cook so much better than you," your foot is tapping on the floor, and you're shifting from side to side, arms still crossed over your chest as you glare over at your mate who is clearly finding this entire encounter far too entertaining.

Rhys huffs out another laugh, sitting up and beckoning you to come to him by tapping at the empty space next to him in your bed, "C'mere darling, it's alright, I just have more of a refined palate than you, and that means that I cook better."

You gasp at the audacity. "Rhysand!" You cannot believe this male.

His eyes twinkle with the stars of his court, "Sweetheart?"

"Take it back. Right now. I can cook better. I have cooked far longer, and I can cook a variety of things. Like roast chicken, and braised beef, and rice, and bread, and- "

"Are you telling me that I do not come home to windows that are open from you airing out the smoke of the bread you quite often burn to a crisp?" He stands from the bed, slowly approaching you like you are a frightened deer about to run off, hands raised like he is all innocent and is not being a complete baffoon right now.

Your mouth falls open, "You did not just go there," -- "Oh I did just go there beautiful" -- "You did not just go there! You asshole!" -- "Am I wrong gorgeous?" -- "I cannot even look at you right now." -- "C'mere pretty girl, I miss you"

"Oh no, you did this to yourself, don't even think about it, Mister." you sneer, backing away until you hit the wall, desperately thinking of a way to get him to take back his words.

"S'alright angel, c'mere. Come to your most handsome, darling high lord and tell him he cooks better than you, it's okay, you can admit it."

THE FUCKING NERVE OF THIS MALE. YOU CANT BREATHE.

And then it hits you.

As he continues to goad you, "C'mon baby, say it, Rhysand is the better cook, your mate is the better cook, your love is the better cook," finally reaching you, placing his hands on either side of you on the wall as he leans down, staring down at your with his heated breathe and pretty smile brushing over your lips.

"that's it love, c'mon, just a simple five words, 'you are the better co-"

His voice trails off into the ether, his pupils blowing, his hands splayed out next to you clenching into fists as he tightens his jaw, eyes utterly entranced by your tits that you decided to flash at him.

You lift up your brow, smirking at him while leaning back to give him a better view of your tits, "you were saying dear?"

He sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth, eyes not wavering from your pert breasts, the cool breeze sneaking in from the balcony tightening your nipples, "What?"

Your hand comes to rest on his chest, pushing at him with no success, the male stuck in place, the air surrounding you suddenly charged, "What is it you were saying Rhysie?"

"I uhh, I dunno love, I... you... you are..."

"Yes?" you peak up at him through your eyelashes, his chest heaving as he gazes down at you, hooded eyes finally meeting yours.

He hums, "You are exquisite darling," his arm sneaking around your waist to pull you flush against him, your tits rubbing at his bare chest when he presses his lips to your ear, "You are enchanting, and bewitching my mate."

anyway, uhhhh, by the time you are through with him, he does not remember ever saying he was the better cook. But he swears to you and the mother that if it gets you to ride him like that again, he will say it until the day you both become stardust.

Sorry this wasn't that good, but you get the drift I hope

[glassrowboat]

Gas Station. Boothill.

There is no plot here, just porn.

Word count: 500+

Authors note: This is my first smut so fuck if I know if it's any good, you read it and find out.

Warnings: nsfw, male bottoming, fingering that gas thing on boothill's back, slut shaming

He was so cute like this, crying out as those robotic hands clung to the covers. Each little detail of those metallic digits sinking in deeper and deeper to the cloth below, you could swear it was his goal to tear apart. The sound of ripping surely wouldn't surprise you nor would the sight of threads laid out on the mattress Boothill was currently pressing himself against.

Did he honestly believe that some cushions and blankets would make an honest to goodness lifeline when not even his cries for you to slow down were being headed? The cold sting of metal biting your fingers as they flicked over the perfectly polished surface. Aluminum coating as you've learned between his babbles of “cutie, cutie, cutie.”

What a paltry attempt at cussing his little heart out.

“That's a good boy.” The tease was on the tip of your tongue in an instant, coaxing him on, guiding Boothill along just the same way your fingers were in his insides. Feeling along the fuel filler that unsurprisingly reeked. Getting close enough would have anyone believing they were suddenly at a gas station, pumps to their left and right listing out numbers of the last til taken as a man in the distance held a cigarette to his lips. “But I know you can take a little more.”

“Please- I ca-”

He can't? As if. He's done this time and time again, let your fingers fuck his little back side with his cute little ass up in the air. If it wasn't made of metal you'd be tempted to smack it, to toy with the flesh that would be there, to let your teeth sink in and draw out another whine. Another mewl. Another moan. All for your ears as the bed creaked again under Boothill's fist slamming down.

“You said you'd let me take my stress out, was that a lie?” Not even bothering to give him a chance to answer, not even a second for that pretty little head of two toned hair to think, another finger slid into his hole.

Indents, bumps, the little beads that spun round and round with every twitch of your touch all so sensitive. It was enough to make one think you were truly fucking his ass with how Boothill was reacting, head falling down as those measly little groans were barely muffled.

That's what he was trying to do, right?

“I didn't give you permission to muffle your voice, baby.”

“Honey,” he gasped out, the tone in his voice enough for you to know he was trying to say anything but the pet names that came from his lips that were spitting out drool. Saliva on his chin that was reflecting the dim lights that poured in through the closed curtains. “I'm sorry- I-”

“Seems I have to teach you a lesson on top of getting my work day off my mind. You're in for a long night, Boothill. So be a good fuck toy and take it.” What was that thing he seemed to like hearing so much last time? Oh, right. “Or I'll have to tell the other galaxy rangers just how much of a whore you are.”

And just as expected, his back arched at the words, trying to take more of what your touch was offering just like he was supposed to. Oh if only he did this earlier, then you wouldn't have to spend the rest of the night training him to behave.

[robin-writess]

so this might be really specific but could you PLEASE write about if kieran made a bet with arthur at a camp party that he could get Y/N to dance with him by the end of the night? not enough people write about kieran and your writing of him makes me feral, it's so good ♥️♥️

Thanks for the req!! I’m sorry it took so long but here you go love<33

🎀A Deal is a Deal🎀

Kieran Duffy x Fem!Reader

Summary ~ Arthur bets Kieran won’t be able to get you to dance with him

Warnings ~ none

not proof read

Kieran always had some sort of attraction towards you, and he couldn't deny it. I mean you are the most beautiful woman in camp. In his eyes anyway. You're one of the only few people who treat him right, like he's a human being just as everyone else is.

Although you had the same attraction to him, you were oblivious to his feelings towards you. It was so obvious to everyone but you. Some of the girls have told you before but you always denied it.

You all had recently earned a lot of money from a successful job, so Dutch decided to celebrate by throwing a little party in camp. The atmosphere was blissful, people laughing and singing, Hosea telling funny stories of Dutch and Arthur. Overall, everyone was just having a great night and enjoying themselves.

You're with some of the girls not too far from the party, just chatting and gossiping, mostly about Molly (sorry molly😭).

“Molly can be a bitch sometimes, but I honestly feel kinda bad for her,” Karen says as she shakes her head.

“Why’s that?” Mary-Beth asks, leaning forward in interest.

“The way Dutch treats her,” Karen speaks again, “he acts like he loves her then goes off and flirts with other women.. it ain’t right.”

From where you were, you could see Dutch and Molly dancing to some music coming from the gramophone in his tent. You could also see Arthur and Kieran a few feet away from them at one of the tables.

~Kieran’s POV~

“So uh… how do I tell her..?” Kieran asks nervously.

“Tell her what?” Arthur asked, seemingly forgetting everything Kieran just told him moments earlier.

“That I like her!” Kieran whisper-yells, looking around to make sure nobody heard.

“Ahh I’m not too good with advice, Kieran,” he replies, “but you could ask her to dance. Maybe she’d like that.”

This sparks Kieran’s interest and makes him think why he hasn’t thought of that before.

“Well hell, I bet you couldn’t even do that.” Arthur chuckles and lowers his head.

This only fuels Kieran’s determination even more.

“W-well I bet I could.” He bites back, straightening his posture.

Arthur laughs again, “okay, $5.”

“Deal,” Kieran says and they both shake hands.

Kieran begins to walk off before he hears Arthur behind him.

“I’ll be waiting for my money.”

~Your POV~

You’re all laughing at a joke Tilly made when Kieran suddenly appeared, causing the laughter to die down as he catches the attention of all of you.

“Hey, uh..” he waves and nervously sways from side to side, “y/n, uhm do you wanna dance…?” He reaches his hand out for you to take.

You hear a couple ‘oohs’ from some of the girls as you become flustered, your face slightly heating up.

“Yes of course.” You smile and take his hand.

He walks you over closer to the music before nervously placing his hand on your waist, holding one of yours with his other hand. You both gently sway and move around to the sound of the music, soft smiles and giggles coming from the two of you.

“Uhm.. to be honest, I really don’t know how to dance.. all I know is this.” Kieran admits.

A soft laugh comes from you, “that’s okay, I don’t either.”

[drchucktingle]

Hello Dr Tingle! I wanted to ask you about that re: your post about how all your books are serious literature (hell yeah Love is real). How do you personally deal with the whole traditional publishing institution? It attracts a whole different level of coverage and it seems that they're very quick to try and box you and like turn you into a brand. Is it stiffling? Is it freeing? Does the attention help more people understand your trot? I don't know I've never been published but since you have experience in both traditional and self publishing I'm interested in knowing how that's feeling for you

well this is a pretty complex question with lots of different trots but i will try my best to answer. lets start with WHO I AM as buckaroo name of chuck

what i create has a very strong voice and my way is pretty recognizable. while buckaroos do not know what most authors look like, i REALLY stand out in a dang crowd with a big pink bag on my head. if you see 50 random author photos and mine is mixed in and then you ask 'which photo do you remember the most?' it is probably gonna be chuck. i also have a VERY UNIQUE STORY with what i create and my artistic sensibilities, not a lot of buds are out there making trans mothman erotica along with their big five traditional publishing bestsellers (SIDENOTE preorder BURY YOUR GAYS)

now if you were going to take 'CHUCK TINGLE' to a marketing department they would FALL OVER BACKWARDS IN THEIR DANG CHAIR with excitement. it is hard to think of an author with a stronger BRAND than i already have in the sense of 'instantly recognizable trot and specific unique style'. even in answering this you can tell that i dont even TALK like other dang authors.

what i am getting at is this: i am VERY VERY LUCKY because my existence just so happens to equate to what a company would see as GOOD BRANDING. it is not intentional on my part, it is just the hand of fate i guess. im out here expressing myself in a FULL ON WAY that is PRETTY DANG STRANGE TO SOME and it just so happens to work as mainstream branding too

on paper you might think 'what the heck no way chuck tingle will fly as a mainstream trot' but honestly the main thread of this timeline can be surprising sometimes. ive been saying the key ingredient for years and i will say it again: LOVE AND SINCERITY RESONATE. when you make art with this fuel, the timeline will feel it. when you stand up tall and shout with your whole chest THIS IS MY WAY AND I LOVE MYSELF. I AM THE WORLDS GREATEST AUTHOR TAKE IT OR LEAVE IT, the timeline will listen

so all that said, i do not mind the idea of myself as 'brand' because i am not CHANGING myself to create this effect. what some might see as 'brand' i just see as another part of my art. i have always believed that art is THE WHOLE EXPERIENCE not just the painting but what is outside of the frame. WHO I AM is just as important as the books i write, and interacting with my way is a whole MULTIMEDIA experience that INCLUDES YOU TOO. it is the feeling when your friend shows you your first tingler cover, or the feeling when you realize that i am not playing a character. this is ALL a part of the tingleverse and it is all a part of my honest raw expression as a queer and neurodivergent buckaroo.

YOU ARE PART OF THIS ART TOO

it is my nature of have a PUNK ROCK trot. always has been. but to me that does not mean just angrily going against everything for the sake of going against everything. for me, this punk rock trot means fighting to EXPRESS MYSELF IN THE MOST HONEST AND PURE FORM POSSIBLE and to create the art that i want to make without any boundaries

somehow i have threaded the needle in this really interesting once-in-a-dang-lifetime kind of way. my pure punk rock self as an OUTERSIDER ARTIST just so happens to resonate with this larger system of brand and traditional publishing and popular culture. i COULD reject this, but rejecting it would be LESS HONEST.

this is just who i am. i LIKE pop culture. i LIKE joy. i LIKE dressing in all pink and wearing my custom suits. I LIKE PROVING LOVE IS REAL WHAT THE HECK ELSE EVEN IS THERE? i love being a queer outsider artist and using my small voice to shout at the big bad devils and i like that every time i shout a few more of you buckaroos join the chorus and together we are just getting louder and louder and louder and WHO KNOWS what comes next for us all trotting together.

when i post something like 'WHAT A GREAT DAY TO PROVE LOVE' it is not me sitting here in a bad mood thinkin 'well i gotta make todays post to keep up with my brand'. i am ACTUALLY FEELING THAT FEELING and i actually believe it with every fiber of my being. honestly, half the time i post about the beauty of this timeline i am probably over here literally crying tears of joy (chuck is an emotional bud i get riled over the joy of existence A LOT)

and heres the best part of this trot: because i really have this punk rock way it makes me very powerful. others can pretend not to care about success and brand and all that but I REALLY DO NO CARE. i would write tinglers whether buds were reading them or not, this is just my natural state, and that makes me incredibly strong. if some big corporation says 'YOU MUST DO THIS' and i dont want to do it i just say 'no thanks'. it is not some big debate about my career or anything like that because I REALLY DO NOT CARE IN THE SLIGHTEST. i care about the art

because of this, my relationship with my GIANT TRADITIONAL PUBLISHING MACHINE is great. we trot like equals and we get along really well. i tell them exactly what i want to do and they let me do it. i really do not have to answer to anyone and they deserve a huge amount of credit for respecting me in this way.

and heres the thing, THEY ALSO HAVE SOME GREAT IDEAS

SPECIFICALLY my imprint of NIGHTFIRE is very dang cool. yes, they are the head of a giant hydra of a BIG FIVE PUBLISHER, but nightfire is SO DANG ART-FOCUSED

there is no right or wrong way to be an artist, and my path is not the only one, but i can tell you what WORKS FOR ME. this is the advice i would give myself, and buckaroos can take it or leave it

here it is: never beg the big book publisher, or record label, or movie studio to pay attention to you

do not let it become a lotto ticket in your brain. do not think that you are some weak little creature and maybe if you trot just right they will scoop you up and take care of you. do not go to their door begging to be let in

LET THEM COME TO YOUR DOOR

create something so incredible and beautiful and honest and powerful and unique and important that they would be foolish to miss out. create a community or a system or a timeline or a world of imagination that thrives on its own and THEY SHOULD BE SO LUCKY TO BE A PART OF IT

then when you sit down at that board meeting it is not 'please brand me, ill do whatever you want'. instead, it is 'lets make a deal and see how much love we can prove together.'

now lets trot buckaroos

[oddaesthetin]

DO YOU, BY ANY CHANCE, KNOW HOW TO COOK SEAFOOD SUNDUBU JJIGGAE? — han hyeongjun

a domestic fluff

—

DO YOU, BY ANY CHANCE, KNOW HOW TO COOK SEAFOOD SUNDUBU JJIGGAE?

forty minutes after that message was sent, here you are now, standing in the kitchen of your boyfriend’s dorm, attempting to do what you think is probably the hardest challenge you’ve faced so far in your life. to be fucking honest, you’d rather deal with physics than spend your time learning how to clean shrimps — properly — according to hyeongjun; which, by the way, you thought was gonna be the hardest part of this cooking lesson.

never for a second in your life have you thought measurements would be your downfall.

“why’s it kinda bland?” hyeongjun asks, a minute after he came out of the bathroom.

you’re not built for this.

but a girl’s gotta do what she’s gotta do when she’s craving a meal that’s sold out at every nearby restaurant, and the second-best option involves waiting 3 hours. how unlucky of you to be caught in such a rare event. honestly, blame the cold weather.

both of you stare at the pale-looking soup in the pot. one bears a confused expression; while the other, playing coy.

knowing exactly what went wrong, you nod your head as if you’re not the one in charge of the seasoning. “yeah, it’s kind of anemic.”

he looked at you funnily for a second, then he snickers. the annoying one where he intentionally backs away and covers his mouth just to animatedly tease you. god, how you miss his quiet phase. uncovering him is like opening pandora’s box, you exaggeratedly thought.

“how many cups of chili did you put?” accusingly, he asks you. he took a spoon and scooped a bit to taste-test the soup.

now that you’re suffering, waiting for 3 hours doesn’t seem so bad. “uhm, two? like you said.”

“really? be honest.”

“okay, fine! i couldn’t find your measuring cups, so i just kinda… eyeballed it and hoped for the best,” you admit with an exasperated sigh. rolling your eyes, you add, “look, i thought i had an inner chef. turns out, she needs glasses.”

his laugh is instant, and it’s one of those laughs where you can tell he’s thoroughly enjoying your struggle. “it tastes kinda sad, but we can still add. it might make the seafood quite overcooked, but like you, i will hope for the best.”

you nudged him and acted like you were going to walk out. you had just turned when he caught your elbow and pulled you back closer while laughing and saying he’s kidding and sorry. the cooking lesson ended with him lecturing you about “how 1 cup is approximately about the size of a large apple and how sundubu jjiggae is meant to taste strong— it’s one of the main aspects that makes it comforting during a cold day.” not knowing the first thing about cooking, you nod along like you understand, even though half of it flies over your head.

“here, taste.”

without looking at it as you’re busy with cleaning up the mess you both caused (mostly you), you opened your mouth. he blew over the spoon to cool the hot soup before giving it to you.

“oh, it’s good!” you exclaimed.

the sight of you doing a little wiggle whenever you eat good food made hyeongjun smile. he thinks it’s adorable whenever you do something like that that you probably don’t even notice half the time. you don’t know it, but it’s these little mannerisms of yours and your shared love for food combined is what fuels him to learn more recipes just so he can cook them for you.

feeling a bit shy from his thoughts, hyeongjun just gives you a thumbs-up and moves the pot to the table.

“next time, you’re in charge of cleanup,” you mumble, taking a seat across from him.

he grins. “fine with me. but only if you promise to actually measure next time.”

you roll your eyes again but with a smile this time. the first spoonful of warm, slightly overcooked seafood sundubu jjigae hits your tongue, and you’re pleasantly surprised at how comforting it actually really is.

as you both eat, he rests his elbow on the table, watching you with that fond look a tsundere like him always tries to hide. “you know,” he starts, then pauses, like he’s deciding whether to say what’s on his mind. “you’re lucky you’re cute, or else I wouldn’t have gone through all this trouble with you.”

“oh, please, you love this chaos,” you replied, nudging his leg under the table as if you’re not at all taken aback by him calling you cute. ahhh, pandora’s box— you once again thought to stop you from giggling and kicking your feet (lol).

“yeah,” he admits quietly. his lips curving into a soft smile did not escape your eyes.

moments like this make you think that maybe, just maybe, he’s your favorite part of the day.

later, as you’re stacking the dishes in the sink, he wraps his arm around your shoulders from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder. “next time, i’m gonna ask you to teach me how to bake,” he murmurs, pressing a swift kiss to your cheek.

and for a second, this time, it was you that paused. not because of the physical affection — those are starting to feel normal now — but because it hits you just how easy this is. the playful banter, the teasing, the warmth of him. this. it feels like something you could get used to. something you both already are.

—

© oddaesthetin 2024

ahhh univ works will be starting again this week. i hope and pray i wont get discouraged to write. i hope this coming sem will be better than the last one. the last one drained me out like a bitch

also, im sorry 4 the music. this has been playing in my head for 2-days now and thought maybe i could try to force it into this fic lmao

[mynicosensesaretingling]

Hiii! Someone recommended your blog to me!

I love Nico (and yeah F1) and I think that him and Logan Sargeant are very similar. For me Nico is deffo his father figure so... if you want could you write a fic about Nico as a father figure to him?

Thank u❤️

Guiding Lights

Note: First of all, I wanna apologise for making you wait FOREVER. Life has been pretty busy and between work and uni, I kinda forgot about writing stuff. If I am honest, this is on the shorter side of things because I really was unsure of how to write for Logan and such BUT I still hope it brings at least a little bit of joy <3

In the fast-paced world of motorsports, where the roar of engines and the thrill of competition seem to rule, there also exists a quieter, more intimate side – the bond between mentor and mentee. For Logan Sargeant, a young driver with dreams as big as the racetrack itself, that bond took shape in the form of Nico Rosberg, a former Formula One champion turned mentor and almost, dare he say, a father-like figure.

It was on a crisp autumn day at the racetrack, when Logan, unexpectedly found himself face-to-face with the legendary Nico Rosberg. Having debated whether to go up to the ex-Mercedes driver, for quite a while, Logan found that his nerves were churning in his stomach as he approached the seasoned champion, his heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and apprehension.

"Logan Sargeant, right?" Nico called out as Logan neared him. His voice was warm and welcoming as he extended a hand. "I've heard good things about you."

Logan nodded, a sly smile forming on his lips, as he felt a surge of pride at the recognition. "Yes, sir. It's an honour to meet you, Mr. Rosberg."

Nico flashed him a reassuring smile, his blue eyes twinkling with warmth. "Please, call me Nico. Mr.Rosberg always makes me think of my father… Anyway, the pleasure is all mine. I've been following your progress, and I must say, you've got some serious talent."

Upon hearing the praise from the former champion, Logan seemingly beamed with pride "Thank you, Nico. That honestly means a lot coming from you."

Their conversation flowed effortlessly from there, as Nico shared stories of his journey through the ranks of motorsport and offered advice on everything from racing strategy to mental preparation. With each word of wisdom and his willingness to answer whatever question Logan threw his way, Logan felt a newfound sense of confidence, fueled by Nico's unwavering belief in his abilities.

As the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, their bond grew stronger, forged on the foundation of mutual respect and shared passion for racing. Logan felt like Nico became more than just a mentor to him – he became a trusted friend, a confidant, and, in many ways, a father figure. He couldn’t remember when exactly, but at some point, the older driver’s unwavering support extended beyond the confines of the racetrack, as Nico took an active interest in Logan's life both on and off the circuit. He offered guidance and support during the highs and lows of Logan's racing career, lending a listening ear and a shoulder to lean on whenever Logan needed it most.

But it wasn't until a pivotal moment on the racetrack that their bond was truly put to the test. Amid a fierce battle for the lead, Logan struggled to maintain control of his car, his confidence shaken by a series of setbacks.

"Nico, I don't know if I can do this," Logan confessed over the radio, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

But Nico's response was swift and unwavering, filled with the same calm reassurance that had carried Logan through so many challenges before. "You've got this, Logan. Trust in yourself and your abilities, let your instincts guide you."

With Nico's words echoing in his ears, Logan dug deep, finding the courage and determination to push through the obstacles in his path. And as he crossed the finish line, the taste of victory sweet on his lips, he knew that he owed a big part of it to the man who had believed in him when no one else did – his mentor and friend, Nico Rosberg.

As the celebrations came to an end and Logan could still hear the cheers of the crowd ringing in their ears, he couldn't help but smile as he looked at Nico. "Thank you, Nico. I couldn't have done it without you."

The former driver returned his smile, a proud glint in his eyes. "You earned this victory, Logan. I was just along for the ride. But I have a feeling this is just the beginning for you."

And as they embraced, the bond between mentor and mentee stronger than ever, Logan knew that with Nico by his side, there was nothing they couldn't achieve together.

For in the world of motorsports, where speed is king and victory is sweet, the true measure of success lies not in the trophies won or the races conquered, but in the bonds forged along the way – the bonds between mentors and mentees, between friends. And for Logan Sargeant and Nico Rosberg, theirs was a bond that would stand the test of time, guiding them through the twists and turns of the racetrack and beyond.

[chloethetransartist]

Is being trans scary?

Is it more scary than just ignoring it?

Sorry for the personal question (which you don't have to answer obviously), being trans sounds really cool to me but I don't know if I want to acknowledge it.

To be honest, it is pretty fucking horrifying. I'm from the US, and, as a lot of people know, being trans is the new big hot-button topic for people to attack for simply existing (so much for the "pursuit of happiness, am I right?). Sure, I could have ignored it, back when I started to really question who I am, maybe things would be "easier" or less mentally taxing for me, but if I hadn't questioned who I was, I'd have never met some really amazing people.

But honestly, I think not knowing is scarier than knowing. Blissfully ignorant is not something I want to be, I want to know who I am. I have to hide who I am from family out of fear of a lot of things, but that's fine to me—I've hidden a lot from them already. Not everyone can say the same, of course, but if I never decided to think about who I am as a person, I'd have ended up like my parents, blissfully ignorant and actively fueled by fake hatred for people they call "unnatural".

So, yeah, it's scary. But you can't run from your own mind, it's kind of stuck with you. Even if taking that dive doesn't work for you in the moment, or even ever, it's better to try and get some peace of mind than to stress for years, wondering if you even deserve to be alive

[wilcze-kudly]

"The comics sure as didn’t help either. In the comics Katara literally sits in a corner while Aang teaches lessons. This girl is a war hero, expert healer, master waterbender and she gets stuck making babies, getting talked down to by White Lotus goons, and quietly hanging out in the South Pole instead of doing something with her life."

Honestly, you're smart to not engage with shippers like these, because holy shit. Why are so many rabid anti-Kataangers so determined to see Katara as a miserable broodmare? Girl gave birth to 3 kids and one of the White Lotus masters asked her for her thoughts if Korra was ready to learn airbending from Tenzin...and listened when she said Korra was ready.

"Gets stuck making babies..." smh. Weird they have this energy for Katara but not for Toph or Suyin or Ursa (not that they should, but still. It's frustrating especially because it strips Katara of any agency).

Mind you I don't love all the post canon comics, but in a lot of them, Katara is much more than a passive character playing second fiddle to Aang. Picking and choosing certain scenes doesn't really prove a point well lol.

I think Katara's role in Korra's life is very underestimated and I actually love Katara's inclusion in tlok much more than Toph and Zuko getting shoehorned in in the last seasons for "star power".

I think a lot of people will also ignore that Katara did things other than having children, for example she outlawed bloodbending, and Toph mentioned that Katara was as involved in politics as Sokka and Aang.

I also find the assumption that once a woman starts having children, they take over her life quite odd and, dare I say, misogynistic? For example my mother quit her job to be a stay at home mother for a while when my sister and I were kids, but decided it wasn't her and she started a new career in which she is doing really well.

The idea thar Katara was some battered baby making housewife under the thumb of cold absentee father Aang is simply false.

And it exists purely to fuel the fantasy of another man coming to save her which is, once again, not the feminist win zks think it is.

I used to engage with Kataang antis, but I very quickly realised that these people aren't interested in having an honest talk, and if pushed they'll just fall back onto calling you a misogynist or a rape apologist or any other colourful amount of insults they can come up with. It's disheartening since I genuinely enjoy debating and carefully formulating my responses, fact checking myself and my sources, etc.

In the end I stopped interacting with people like that because I think their cattiness started rubbing off on me and I noticed my own arguments were getting more meanspirited and judgy and I didn't like that. The shipping wars are a very toxic environment lol.