brand new blog for a brand new era current interests: mdzs, tka, tt, lita, uwma, basically a host of bls and hopefully gls here soon 18+ @Dirty_Corza on ao3
There is an essay in my soul. One I know I am not yet equipped to write. One I *yearn* for.
It starts somewhere like this, I think.
With a melona room and a gaggle of boys, one of whom was called Lee Seokmin. He was the 8th member- until he wasn't. Not because other members came who were older than him, but because he gave up his place for someone who would become a steadfast friend. He cried during evaluations, couldn't tell you that red and blue make purple, and had the biggest heart in the whole wide world.
In that heart, he kept his members. Especially those that stayed and became Seventeen. Through everything that happened, that love he has for them has shown so brightly. Just like his smile that is never so wide as when one of the others allows him to have a kiss. Be is playfully given on stage or sincerely bestowed when he feels too much, showing *love* is something Lee Seokmin clearly enjoys so much.
But there are times he seems, to me, almost afraid of it. He used jokes and comedic sketches to allow himself that closeness, but when the others reciprocated, he was duvking away. Hiding his reactions. Self-concious. Even pushing the others away at times, refusing their affection.
(I think, perhaps, there was a time when he knew of the fandom nickname "dude kisser" and the implications scared him. It can be *dangerous* to be percieved as queer. Dangerous for a person and the group they are in. And one thing Seventeen has always been is very aware that one false step could have their entire career gone in an instant. It has happened to other groups. There one day, and blacklisted the next.)
That changed, though, especially over the past year. Where he had been pushing others away, he leaned into that affection more. Taking more risks. Putting his love front and center.
Some of it, of course, is fanservice. Moments on stage with almost-kisses. Flirting during recordings. But there are other things, too. Jokes shared with fans that hint at something *else*. An unapologetic-ness to his conduct.
(Unnie comes to mind. Oppa. Every selfie taken with cheeks pressed together. Dates to volleyball games just so he can see someone else happy.)
And somewhere in that journey was nana tour. Salute Man. Lee Seokmin resolutely declaring he wanted to be more confident, more fearless. And just when he was making that resolution public- Happy came out.
A song that speaks so clearly to a queer experience. Begging to be allowed happiness. To be told it's okay. Even if it's risky, even if it's "wrong".
"Will that day ever come? May I be happy? I want to smile every day"
When Lee Seokmin made a video for his cover, he didn't do it alone. He had other members of Seventeen right there with him. Singing along. Holding the camera. Smiling, laughing-- making him laugh with the way they cheered for him so thoroughly.
This isnt a proper essay. I dont have proper arguments, just a feeling. Something that resonated with me so powerfully when the Happy cover was posted. And like. It's speculation to say "DK's boyfriends told him not to hide how much he loves them, not to shy away from affection even if it's risky and can't be laughed off as fanservice." But I also remember being a closeted queer, desperate to be seen, sharing my own moments like this and hoping just one other person, maybe, would understand.
It's in that spirit that I say:
Dokyeom. Lee Seokmin. Dk. Seokminnie. Salute Man. Be happy. Don't ever let the world tell you your happiness is not allowed. Be happy. Selfishly happy with those you love.
And if you are reading this and you are in that hidden,scared place. You too can be happy. It's ok.
My next meta is absolutely gonna be a deep dive into Tharntype, my reading of Type, and a bit of salt i have about how so many treat it like it's somehow The Worst.
I am back here today, because I watched another Mame show, and YET AGAIN people are spouting off bullshit in the tags and I am so *tired*. Like. Goddamn people.
Mame has consistently been an author that accurately portrays being In The Closet in her works, accurately displayed the push and pull of trauma vs kinks. Accurately shown how families react to queerness and the struggle that can be for queer kids.
Wedding plan was one of the first times I saw a relationship like mine with my mother in queer media. Seeing that struggle on screen of "i want you to be happy" warring with her internal "this is Not Right". Bigoted people have queer kids and it is awful to try and navigate that. And Mame! Mame managed to show that in a series that people complain is too "boring" becayse it lingers on the build up and sweet moments but doesn't drag things out or throw something extra in as a dramatic twist.
I dont know why people keep talking like Mame is some homophobic trash woman capitalizing off of queer pain when even one of her most derided shows (Tharntype) is itself a journey of queer *joy*. Joy through the pain. Joy overcoming pain. Queer love that doesnt heal, but does make the hurt more bearable.
I don't know if Mame is straight. If she is, she must have an extensive queer friend group or spend all her time listening to/exploring queer people's stories, because so often it hits spot on.
I swear a good 75% of the takes im seeing about naughty babe are people who have never interacted with someone autistic in their LIFE
Some of us have trouble talking to people, janet! Espectially when we *think* we're on the same page and dont realize things have changed bc reading emotional signals is *hard*!!
Doubly so if our partner has seemingly sent a clear sign of "does not want sex" so we stop initiating and then it turns out that is also a problem!!! How do you expect yi to know when diao equally never uses his words with him bc he's too afraid of rejection he'd literally rather run away???
This post is a very cool MDZS background/meta exploration and I am very excited to get more background info on the worldbuilding and on Yunmeng Jiang! And I think OP is probably quite correct about the themes and parallels in place -- Wen marks the transition of an era, Jiang annihilates Wen just like their historical counterparts, etc.
But I find the conclusion "Yunmeng Jiang under Jiang Cheng is fully under the hereditary/family/nepotism model" kind of hilarious, in context, because Jiang Cheng literally can't run his sect on a family model even if he wanted to, on account of how he has no family. He is not appointing blood relatives to high positions of authority in his organization because, and this was a pretty important thing that happened, they are all dead. Jiang Cheng has one family member in the entire world and that kid appears nowhere in the Yunmeng Jiang sect hierarchy whatsoever.
Yunmeng Jiang is gonna have to revert to a sect model and be inherited by a disciple on account of Jiang Cheng not having (and showing no inclination of acquiring) any kind of blood heir
Hey guys! In an effort to put more (at least short form) content available off ao3, come to my askbox and leave a prompt! This weekend I will do my best to fill them!
Be aware ratings will be anything as my mood takes me, some will be shorter some longer. :D i look forward to writing some spur of the moment fic!
#love that huang shaotian doesn’t need to ask #(1) who’s fetching drinks #(2) which beverage yu wenzhou wants #or #(3) whether they’ll share a chair or if perhaps huang shaotian should occupy one of the other six free chairs available to him
CONTENT WARNINGS: nsfw, noncon, predicament sex, feminization, humiliation, free use themes, unrealistic vent placements, size kink, excessive use of babygirl, daddy kink
It made no sense to Ken, how he had managed to get stuck halfway through the vent. His shoulders had managed the squeeze just fine until he had reached his hips, and then- then he was wedged in and couldn't move forward or back, no matter how he tried to twist or turn. It was like someone had slid the grate down just enough to dig into the small of his back and hold him in place. But that couldn't be possible. He had been alone, sneaking into Kinn's office when he was sure he was the only one there. No one else could-
There were hands, big hands, wrapping around his hips. They didn't pull at him, didn't do more than squeeze, but that was enough to send a shiver of fear down his spine. He had made a mistake--a huge one--if someone else was there to catch him in his escape.
"Well well, what do we have here?"
Ken winced, closing his eyes as if that could change whose voice it was mocking his predicament. Porsche. Of course it was Porsche, Kinn's new favorite, Kinn's little toy. It had to be Porsche that caught Ken like this, when Ken had lasted years without getting caught.
"Thought you were being sneaky, didn't you?" Porsche continued, his voice just loud enough for Ken to hear over his own echoing breathing. "But Kinn new what you were up to. He sent me here, said there would be a present waiting, if I played my cards right. And he was right! A pretty little present just for me. I should unwrap it, hm?"
Ken's eyes grew wide as Porsche's hands slipped down around his waist, skillfully undoing his belt and pulling it away with a dragging slide that made Ken want to yell and kick. But a violent reaction was what Porsche wanted, wasn't it? And if it was what Porsche wanted, Ken wouldn't give it to him. That was the only reason he wasn't fighting back as Porsche continued to undress him, pulling down his pants and briefs with quick movements before kicking Ken's feet so wide he could barely stand on his tiptoes.
Porsche's own feet slid next to his, keeping Ken there, balanced precariously as Porsche groped his now bare ass. "That's it, babygirl," Porsche murmured, "be a good girl and let me take care of you."
Ken's cheeks burned. "Fuck you," he snipped back, squeezing his eyes shut when Porsche simply laughed in response.
"Oh no, you aren't understanding right. I'm gonna fuck you, babygirl. I promise it'll be good." He continued to grope Ken, his calloused fingers rough against soft skin. It was awful, being spread open so Porsche could see Ken's hole, his balls, his cock as it slowly filled with interest.
Ken whined, willing his cock to go down, to stop this betrayal of his own base desires when it throbbed as Porsche spit on his hole.
"Would you look at that?" Porsche laughed again. "Babygirl's body knows what she wants, even if she wont say it."
Porsche let go of his ass with one hand, giving Ken the slightest reprieve before those fingers were sliding along his crack, over his hole, with only his spit to keep the slide from being too rough. Even as it was, it was more than Ken was ready for. He couldn't hold back the gasp, or the way his hips tried to wiggle, to squirm his way out of Porsche's hold.
There was no getting away from this, though. Just Porsche sliding a knee against Ken's thigh to force him impossibly wider until Ken couldn't even squirm, fully dangling from the vent in the wall. "Come on. The less you fight, the better this'll be for you, I promise. You don't want me to have to rush, do you? Taking you with no prep, only my cock to open up your cunt before Kinn takes his turn?"
Ken whimpered, biting his arm to try and muffle the sound as the thought fully settled in him. He shouldn't like the idea, being spread open and taken so roughly it would hurt, not only by Porsche-who wasn't small by any stretch of the imagination-but also by Kinn who wasn't just "not small", but was in fact big. The way just picturing it had his cock throbbing, dripping, pushing him closer to the edge faster than even Porsche's groping hadn't made something twist inside him, terrible and aching with a growing need.
"Oh," Porsche's voice was soft, almost worshipful, and Ken knew that he had seen Ken's response. "Babygirl, you just want someone to use you right, don't you? To fill up your needy little cunt and keep you wet and open for cock. You should have just said, instead of sneaking around like this. I'm sure Kinn would've put you to good use helping out all of the other bodyguards."
Porsche tsked, rubbing his damp fingers over Ken's twitching hole one last time before pulling his hands away, leaving the only contact between them his legs were they kept Ken spread wide. Ken couldn't hear much of what he was doing, though he could feel Porsche's legs shifting minutely and he knew instinctively what was coming next. Porsche had said, hadn't he? He was going to fuck Ken's cunt-no, his hole, Ken tried to correct the thought. But the idea of Porsche's fingers running over slick folds, sliding into a hole so wet it didn't even need lube was one Ken knew would linger in his head for months after this, or longer if Porsche kept the implied promise of keeping Ken like this for people to use.
"You ready, babygirl?" Porsche asked, and it was all the warning Ken had before Porsche had a hand once again gripping his ass, the other guiding his lube-slick cock to rub over Ken's hole. "I've got what you need right here."
Ken didn't have time to protest, to kick out, to do anything to stop it before Porsche was pressing in. And, to Ken's shame, the slide was easy. Just a few seconds and the tip was safely in, stretching him open. All Ken could do was gasp and moan as Porsche pressed further in, a steady slide, terrifyingly easy for all it came with the burning stretch as he was opened up.
"There we go, isn't that better?" Porsche murmured, petting at Ken's hip with his lube slick hand before gripping him hard enough to bruise. "Fuck. Your cunt is so tight, but it's pulling me in. You really needed this, didn't you?"
He pulled out slowly, too slowly, before thrusting roughly back in, making Ken shout with the sudden pressure along his prostate.
"Don't you worry, babygirl. I'll give you just what your hungry little cunt needs."
That moment, with Porsche murmuring soothing words, was the last moment of rest Ken had. It seemed what Porsche thought he needed was a good hard fuck, punishing and rough and fast, with no time for Ken to addjust to the burning stretch of Porsche's thick cock inside him. Each thrust brought with it a host of other sensations, the bruisingly tight grip of Porsche's fingers into the meat of his ass and his hip, the drag of metal where his weight rested on the vent and where the vent itself rested on the small of his back. And, confusingly, his ass growing wetter as Porsche fucked him.
Ken blinked, trying to focus through the punishing thrusts that kept urging him closer to the edge. That wetness. It wasn't coming from him, it was--
"Look at what a sloppy mess you're making of that cunt, baby."
That wasn't Porsche's voice, Ken could hear now, barely audible where he was trapped amidst the echos of his keening moans.
"She's so wet, do you think you're gonna make her squirt?"
Porsche's hips stuttered out of rhythm, his groans muffled as he ground his hips against Ken's, pressing his cock in as deep as it could go.
"Do-do you want me to? Make her- fuck, Kinn- make her squirt around my cock before I fill her up, so she's a sloppy mess for you?"
Kinn growled, and Ken swore he coulld almost feel it through Porsche's cock, deep inside him. "Do it. I wanna see it baby. See the mess that tight little cunt makes before you mess it up even further."
Ken whimpered. He could feel it, the way Porsche's cock twitched inside him at Kinn's words, it was awful, it was horrifying, it was the hottest thing that had ever happened to him. He knew his cock was leaking, now, still. A steady drip as Porsche fucked him, now something more as he simply clenched and squeesed around Porsche's cock.
Porsche was no longer moving, and Ken knew, with an awful twist in his gut, he was seconds away from coming with no stimulation at all.
"Come on, babygirl, Let daddy see you come on his baby's cock, hm?"
Kinn didn't even touch him, not even the slightest brush of fingers against his skin. He just said the words like it would be the simplest things in the world for Ken to obey, and to his ever growing shame, Ken did. He came with a bit-off shout echoing in his ears as he clenched even tighter around Porsche's cock.
"Oh- oh fuck, Kinn, he's-she's so tight," Porsche gasped, and Ken couldn't help the sob as he clenched even harder around him at that tiny slip. Being reminded of the game Porsche and Kinn were playing, the way they had to know who it was stuck here in Kinn's office wall, it was almost too much.
And then, Porsche was thrusting, frantically chasing his own release, and it definitely was too much. Ken couldn't hold back the tears as Porsche's cock stuttered inside. It was too much, too fast--not enough, not nearly enough when he wanted to be filled to be dripping with Porsche's come spilling out of his hole.
Ken shook his head. There were words now, with his sobs, though he wasn't sure if he was begging Porsche to stop or to fill him up so Kinn could take his turn. He didn't want to beg for Kinn's cock, for Porsche's come, for his cunt to be ruined by them. He didn't want it. He didn't, and yet, when Porsche's thrusts finally stilled and Ken felt him come deep inside, it didn't feel like violation. It felt like relief.
"Look at you, such a good girl, milking Porsche's cock so well," Kinn said, his voice as soft as his hand gently stroking over Ken's quaking thigh.
"That's it, there you go," he cooed as Porsche carefully stepped back, leaving Ken empty, his legs still dangling even though he knew he could support himself now, if he wanted to. If he tried.
But Kinn was there, his hands soft as they traveled up Ken's sweat-dampened skin to where his hole was dripping with lube and Porsche's spend. Kinn was there, and Ken couldn't find the strength to do more than arch his back to give a better angle for Kinn's thick fingers to press into him.
"That's it, babygirl. Open up for daddy's cock, hm?" It was Porsche cooing at him now, though his voice sounded strange. Ken couldn't make sense of it at first, until Porsche's lips were pressed against the outer curve of his ass. Porsche was kneeling beside him, watching as Kinn positioned his much too big cock against Ken's hole. There was no way Porsche's cock had been enough to prepare him for this.
Ken couldn't help the way his hole clenched as Kinn's cockhead glanced against it. There was no way this wouldn't hurt, especially with Ken still so sensitive from his orgasm. It was too much. It was going to break him, it was-
It was making Ken bable and plead, not for it to stop, but for Kinn to please use his cunt, hadn't he done just what he asked, like a good girl?
Ken barely registered what words he was saying, only aware of Porsche's soft lips and Kinn's giant cock as it split him open.
This slide wasn't easy. This slide was rough and painful and perfect, making Ken's cock twitch where it hung still untouched beneath him.
"Oh, fuck, babe. She likes it. Isn't she perfect?" Porsche murmured, his hands stroking up Ken's thigh, teasing at the crease where thigh met groin.
"Yeah, she is. She's perfect. Made for this, a tight hole for cock. A needy little slut, just wanting to be filled."
"Don't talk about her like that," Porsche chided, "not my sweet little babygirl. She isn't a slut. She's our good girl, taking our cocks so well, isn't that right, babygirl?"
Ken sobbed again, any words he might want to say gone from his mind as Kinn pressed further in, deeper than anything else Ken had ever taken, stretching him open in places he had never been stretched before.
"That's it. just like that." Porsche kept talking as Kinn slowly began to thrust. Kinn was far more gentle than Porsche had been, but it didn't matter. The stretch burned and ached and was too much, far too much, even as some small part of Ken's mind whispered that it wasn't even done yet. With Porsche, he had felt hips against his ass, balls rudding against his own as Porsche bottomed out. With Kinn, he still hadn't felt that. Even now, as Kinn began to thrust steady and deep, Ken hadn't managed to take all of him.
The thought had tears streaming down Ken's face. Not that he wanted it, of course he didn'tt want it, he didn't want any of this. It just felt so wrong, to have them fucking his dripping, ruined cunt, and Kinn still not seat himself all the way inside. Ken needed it, every burning inch. he couldn't-he couldn't-
Suddenly, it was easier to breathe. It was easier to breathe, and bright, too bright, and there were thick arms holding him against a strong chest and finally, finally, Kinn's cock was sinking the last few inches so he was all the way inside as Kinn pressed him up against the wall.
"So good, our perfect little babygirl, just like that," Porsche was murmuring, and he was standing, too, leaning in to press his soft lips against Ken's tear-stained cheek. "It feels good, doesn't it? Taking that whole cock in your tight little cunt. It's just what you needed, hm?"
Ken shook his head, squirming for the first time in what felt like hours, trying to get away. It was so much. Almost too much, knowing it was Kinn burried inside, that he had failed his mission so completely Kinn literally had him hanging off his cock. It was awful. Terrible. The worst thing he could ever imagine, and Ken could feel his cock getting truly hard again at the thought.
And then Porsche was kissing him, deep and hungry, and Kinn was biting into the meat of his shoulder, and what Ken felt didn't matter. He was their babygirl. They had made him be good for them, and who was he to argue? All he could do was feel as Kinn fucked him, deep and hard and Porsche finally fisted Ken's cock in his hand.
"You gonna come again, babygirl? Come on daddy's cock? See if that'll make your ruined cunt tight enough for him to come?" Porsche asked, his voice a low growl against Ken's ear.
Ken nodded. He nodded and pushed against the wall to try and take Kinn that little bit deeper as he came again. Abruptly, everything that had been perfect-the stretch, the ache, the fullness-was both too much and not enough. Ken needed the more that would come with Kinn burrying himself to the hilt in his tight cunt and fill him so full Ken would be dripping for weeks.
"Oh babygirl, you have the best ideas," Porsche murmured, and Ken only realized then he had been speaking out loud. "Do it, Kinn,, please. Fill our babygirl's tight little cunt. She's earned it, hasn't she? Been so good?"
"Fuck-" Kinn's voice was a deep rumble as he turned his face into Ken's neck, kissing and biting almost hard enough to break the skin as he did as Porsche had asked, as Ken had asked, burrying his cock deep and filling him with come.
Slowly, very slowly, Kinn pulled away, letting Porsche catch Ken around his waist, scooping him up easily into his arms. Vaguely, Ken was aware that he ought to put up more of a fight, now. That he should relax against Porsche's chest and let his eyes close. It was a bad idea, having just been caught like he had been. A terrible idea. And yet, as Porsche and Kinn talked above him, Ken closed his eyes and let himself drift off somewhere close to sleep.
Pairings will be: Luo Ji/Baozi, An Wenyi/Baozi, Luo Ji & An Wenyi
ft transman!baozi and transwoman!an wenyi
CONTENT WARNINGS: nsfw, puppy play, bdsm themes
The first time, it had been an accident. Baozi had been his usual, hyperactive self, and An Wenyi had been tired of his bouncing around her and snipped, "Should take you to puppy classes until you can sit still."
Baozi and Luo Ji had both stopped what they were doing, not for long enough to be awkward but long enough An Wenyi noticed. Especially when Luo Ji cleared his throat and pushed up his glasses, his cheeks burning as he replied, "Yes, that might be a good idea."
Baozi's response had been less obvious, at the time. He had just laughed out a "maybe" and sat himself on the floor next to her feet to watch the match she was studying. It felt so normal, An Wenyi hadn't given it another thought as she focused on taking notes on her performance.
Now, though, she was thinking about it very hard. Baozi was at her feet again. Naked, but for the paw-shaped gloves on his hands and headband with floppy ears holding back his long hair. Completely bare and looking at her expectantly, with no shame for the way his breasts hung loose or his cunt was visible between his spread knees.
He was beautiful, an enchanting sight that was almost, almost perfect. The only thing missing was a collar for the pretty puppy, and An Wenyi held that in her hand. It was thicker than the one she now knew Luo Ji used on him, and much more obviously for a dog. Luo Ji's was subtle enough for everyday wear, but the one An Wenyi had picked out, had asked to use... It had no decorative spikes. It was just a wide, black leather collar with a simple bun-shaped tag hanging next to the clasp.
"Are you ready?" she asked, shivering at the way Baozi gave a small yip in reply. She hadn't known, back then, how much she would like the idea.
With one last nod, An Wenyi leaned forward, buckling the collar into place, sliding two of her fingers under the edge just to be sure it wasn't too tight.
Baozi squirmed in front of her. If he had a tail, she was sure it would be wagging with eager anticipation. As it was, looking down still told her just how much he was enjoying this, his cunt already glistening with his excitement.
"Sit still," she admonished, licking her lips at the way his hips instantly stopped their movement.
"Good boy," she whispered, letting herself slide off her bed to sit next to him, where she could reach to both scratch behind his ears and stroke down the long length of him. "You ready for some training, and then we can play?"
Baozi gave another small yip, and An Wenyi let the puppy training begin.
For filthy friday I wanna write some filthy little ficlets! Leave a ship and a kink or au in my askbox, and you will get an at least 3 sentence fic for them!
Anon submissions welcome! Poly ships also very welcome!!! Just one ship per ask, please. :D
Any ship left sent without a kink will have one chosen by me. 🥰
