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#At least…. that is my opinion for now… I’ll have to see how well they handle ogerpon in the DLC
quikyu · 1 year
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A little shy
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tautozhone · 1 month
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idk how to start this so this post is ab individual action, trying to motivate positive change in the world, etc etc
a lot of growing up in the US for me makes things feel more scary than they are. like it’s actually not that difficult to go out of your way to get a bottle of water or iced cup of water from some random drive through if you think you should do it. either fast food conglomerate or local actually, it’ll usually be cheaper than 5 dollars to get drinkable water. i try to have 5-10 dollars i can justify spending on water, and asking for change, because sometimes when i’m out driving i need to go grab water.
i do not do this for me as much as i try to do it specifically when i see someone who’s most likely homeless on a street corner. i’m sure one day i might do this and they might not be there when i come back, but what have i lost really? a bit of time and a bit of money that would’ve meant more to them, that i can hold onto until i see them next.
the pressure that a lot of people feel when they think “what can i do” comes from this grand narrative that the average citizen can singlehandedly fix the housing crisis. rich people? maybe. nonprofits? not in a day, not all one person still. what can i do is a question i ask a lot. what can i do, not just because it feels bad to move along like nothings wrong with the world, but what can i do that will do anything. what can i do that makes even the smallest change.
i feel like it took me too long to figure out a personal method to what i consider individual action. it’s taking time to get to my own financial stability to be able to do more. but for now it’s as simple as water and cash. not water and food, but water and cash.
individual action means a lot in small steps, go get a bottle of water bare minimum and the price of a meal if you can and then just give it to them. if it wasn’t such a miserably hot place where i live i would keep a pack of water in my car, which i still want to do for the sake of having immediate access to water to give someone who might need it- hot or cold sometimes won’t matter. but when it’s hot out, get cold water, if it’s cold out, a warm tea will hydrate more than coffee will as long as it’s not super caffeinated.
#very genuinely i’ve always felt paralyzed by the idea i cannot doing anything to help and on the grand scale i kind of can’t#i can’t give someone a house to stay in where i could take care of the space enough to get someone back on their own feet#but i can give someone water and some money for whatever they need#one day i’ll be able to do more but for now. water bottles and cash.#what i want to say here is everyone knows bare necessities and everyone knows ways to get them#i also have an opinion that you should sit with and hold the harsh feeling of seeing the world fall apart and help people survive anyway#idfk man#i’ve met some extremely fucking jaded people in my time at college who seem to have no way to piece together that they can do SOMETHING#one of my classmates once complained about feeling bad about not doing anything for a guy on a corner and i recognized who#because i’d seen him too and done nothing at least 5 times before one day on the way home i gave him all the cash i had on me#she’d said she’d do more if she wasn’t so scared and anxious of being hurt. i don’t see how he could even look harmful or dangerous#he blessed me and offered a hug and asked me to have a good day and said thank you and i still can’t see why she was scared of him#at the same time i hadn’t done anything until i saw myself in someone else and thought it looked nasty. looked uncaring.#i saw him again today and gave him a water bottle and all the cash i had on me. i told him the weather seemed hot#he agreed with me and he took the bottle of water#i think i interrupted him opening it to hand him the rest#he got up and he blessed me again#offered a hug and more thank you’s and it’s so simple but i felt us both human in that moment. talking about the weather in a brief exchange#wishing each other well as we go different ways#he wouldn’t stop thanking me and wishing me well#i told him it was the smallest thing i think anyone could do and i still walked away hollow wishing to have done more somehow#to suddenly own an apartment complex nearby for him and anyone he knew that needed it too#not a rigid shelter but a place to make home#blah blah blah talking too much about a deed done because i get emotional about humanity#tauto talks
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DPXDC: I wanna be like most girls ghosts.
or Danny: What should I do to make my mom happy?
or ~Danny deserves a little teenage rebellion as a treat~
Maddie: I just want this damned Phantom to stop pretending to be a hero! All ghosts are pure evil, who is he trying to deceive? Danny: Oh, really? And Danny took it personally.
It’s not Danny’s fault that he’s a good kid and wants to make his parents happy. But why would he have to be a monster to make them happy? Why must they hate him to be happy?
Danny’s obsession was going crazy.
Well, when your own parents call you a monster in the face, it hurts. Why do they always believe that only their opinion is the absolute truth? They have no idea how much worse things would be if at least some of the ghosts really behaved the way Maddie and Jack think they’re supposed to. If he really is evil by nature, is there any point in fighting his own fate? They want to see him as a villain, he will become one. He will. He just needs a little help and practice. And not bring it to the level when Clockwork has to clean up his mess. Poor guy is without a vacation for how long? Couple of millennia?
Johnny 13: Sup. Danny: F*ck off, Johnny, I’m not in the mood. Busy thinking about world domination. Get out of here or I’ll call Kitty. Johnny 13: What’s wrong? You’re usually so grouchy only towards the end of the week. Danny: Nothing. Just parents. Again. They are wonderful but I can’t help but feel sometimes that they, em… Johnny 13: Suck? Danny: Right…Damn. I’m a terrible son. Maybe something is wrong with me. Johnny 13: What? No, no, dude. You’re just growing up. And you’re a little late, usually teenagers go through that stage before they graduate. Well, you’ve probably been busy with other issues, so just missed it. Danny: I wonder whose fault it is. Aren’t there ghosts who enjoyed to ruin my life in the middle of school day?
Johnny 13: Oh, bother. Anyway, you’re entering a beautiful time of emancipation, where you’re going to shape your own view of life and, along the way, to get drunk on cheap alcohol at parties, maybe to go to jail and to become the greatest disappointment to your family..And then you will be ashamed to remember it for about the next ten years. Danny: Well, it looks like I’ve already done two out of three additional things. Great success. Johnny 13: When did you get drunk? Danny: I didn’t. Johnny 13: Oh. Want to fix that? Danny: What? No. What an idiot wants to add a headache to his problems? Johnny 13: Well, your loss, then I’ll go terrorize the bars of Gotham alone and no one can stop me. Let’s see what your boyfriend will say about it. ~~~~~ Danny: Bartender, another shot of Dead Man’s Fingers, please. Red Hood: Babe, haven’t you had enough? Danny: Have you ever felt that no matter how hard you try, no matter how many sacrifices you make, in their eyes you’ll always be nothing more than a monster? Nothing more than a mistake? Oh, Death doesn’t give people like me a break. Red Hood: …I’ll have what he’s having. *gives the bartender a sign to switch the rum shots to a batburger milkshake for them, and starts talking to Danny so that he doesn’t understand Hood's scams*
~~~~~
Johnny 13: Other people’s kids are growing up so fast. It seems like yesterday he didn’t know how to shoot ectoblast, and now.. Kitty: Stop trying to make me feel bad, we’re leaving. Johnny 13: But the boy needs our support, honey boo!
~~~~~
Danny: I'm fine. Really, I am. This isn’t the first time mom’s called me a monster. She often called me that when she was upset with my behavior in my childhood. Huh, it's even funny. Jason: There’s nothing funny about that. Danny: No, you don’t understand. Looking back, I was really a very active child and didn’t know when to stop. Not surprisingly that I often annoyed my parents. They’re very busy people, and Jazz couldn’t always keep an eye on me. And I was often afraid to go to sleep alone because there were shadows in the darkness of my room. Well, I used to think they were. But I pretended everything was okay to not distract parents from work. Jason: Hey, it’s not your fault. You were a child. Obviously, kiddo requires a lot of attention, they must have understood that. You are the second child in the family, right? Danny: Well, Jazz was different. I don’t know. Anyway, I thought if the monsters behind the curtain and under the bed were just like me, well, according to my mom, you know, then they wouldn’t want to hurt me. And since they look after me, they are friends. So I kinda greeted all the suspicious noises and howls. Huh, I was a strange kid. Jason: If you smile at someone in the dark alley right now that someone is more likely to wet themselves or faint. Danny: Rude! I’m not that scary. Admit that I’m adorable. Do it right now. Jason: Stunning, darling. But still carry a gun and a knife, please. My childhood taught me that what's hiding in the dark is worth beating up. Danny: Come on, what should I be afraid of? Death? Anyway, I want to try this shit. Like, the inevitable one. Being a bad boy, you know? Hood *raises eyebrows*. Danny: Oh damn it man, I'm talking about ghostliness. I want to try to be like most of dead ones. I want to unleash my side of the trickster and the villain. But only a little bit. I have to be supervised so that things don't go too far. Would you help me, honey?
~~~~~2 hours later~~~~
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~~~~~
Goons used to expect a lot of weirdness from working with the boss.
Sometimes Bruce Wayne would go into their base and yell at the Red Hood like he's one of his kids. Of course Wayne's well-known as 'Gotta adopt them all' but the guy must really suffer from insomnia to count the Red Hood into his brood of chicks several times. Sometimes the boss would fight Robin or Nightwing over differences in morals…or for biscuits. It varied from moment to moment. Sometimes the boss caught the local street children, fed them and taught them to steal correctly. And most of the foundlings stayed with them under their protection.
To make a long story short, Red Hood is not the typical crime lord that some of them had to deal with before. Which is a blessing. Thanks Lord for the health insurance. But still the crime lord. Which means he's still scary, and sometimes deadly.
Anyway, when the boss brought in a guy who looked more civilian than any civilian in the whole Gotham and said he was going to be their intern, they thought it was a joke at first. Despite the fact that Hood was not in the habit of joking while working.
The teenager was too well-mannered and sweet to come from Crime Alley. Phil thought the guy was gonna run when he saw the first murder, Jessica didn’t think the domestic boy wouldn’t chicken out at the sight of a fight. But arguing with a boss’s orders in their profession is like asking for a bullet in the head, so these conversations were taking place outside of their boss's sight. God, how can they teach him anything? What do you take from a boy who’s only good to do the coffee run? Fenton will fall if they’ll give him something heavier than 10 pounds. And then boss will yell at them because he treats the new guy like a princess on a pea. Well, at least that’s what they thought until the boss decided to give the new guy his own assignments:
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~~~~~
Red Hood: So, what have you learned during your internship, my young Padawan? Danny: Well, it looks like I’m gonna suck at being a criminal mastermind. I think I may have to find myself some other profession. Red Hood: Come on, you just need a little more practice. Danny: Thank you but I don’t think that’s fit my obsession that good. Don't misunderstand me, I wanna be like most ghosts. But I was wrong to go to hit that goal only base on human stereotypes about my nature. Red Hood: What a pity. The newbies just learned not to flinch when you walk in. But, to be honest, I'm not gonna miss the adrenaline-boosting roller coaster of you at work. Danny: Oh, and I guess to hold on to the concept of humanity was really stupid too. I clearly no longer fit in and I’m finally ready to accept that. So, hopefully, if you get into trouble, you can rely on my ghostliness and call for help. I am the spirit of many talents and of my word. I can haunt your enemies or walk through the walls of Arkham Asylum. Whatever you need, I’ll be here. Red Hood: I’ll bear that in mind.
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nathaslosthershit · 3 months
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Teen Dad (OP81)
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(Part 1 of the Blind Item Series) (Part 1 of the Teen Dad OP AU)
Summary: Rumors are flying about a young driver with kids
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Seeing the rumor, and various other tweets commenting on the matter, first thing this morning was like getting a bucket of ice water dumped on him. Oscar immediately sat up, frightening his fiancée who was asleep next to him a moment before.
“What? What's wrong? Are you okay?” she asked, sitting up.
“Fuck this is not good.” He mumbled as he looked through more tweets. He knew he had minutes before his PR team started messaging him on how best to proceed. 
“Osc, you are really scaring me. What is going on?” His fiancée asked again. After 5 years together and two kids, she knew him well enough to know that Oscar isn’t easily woken up. While he usually wakes up early to train or help the kids, on days like today where he has the chance to sleep in, he will usually take it. But the amount of notifications he started getting were enough to get him to check his phone and once he saw the severity of the situation he was awake and alarmed. 
“A blind item about a ‘younger f1 driver with two kids he had as a teen’ just went up. No confirmation on who but it seems they have gotten it down to only a few of us. They don’t know yet but I am sure they will know soon.” 
He was grateful they hadn’t clocked in on him but Oscar was sure with a bit more time to dig people would put two and two together. He wasn’t ashamed of the fact that he was a teen dad, not anymore at least. When he was even more so an up and coming driver, he kept it hush because he was nervous being 18 with two kids would lead teams to reconsider where his priorities were, his family or his career. That wouldn’t have been crazy of them to do though, as important as racing was to Oscar, he would always pick his family first. Luckily, though, he had a great enough support system so he didn't have to choose. 
Most people in Oscar’s life knew. Any teams apart from Prema, Mclaren, and Alpine were none the wiser but why would they need to know? Not all drivers knew either, some who he had become closer to were let in on the secret, especially Logan, who had been there the entirety of his kids' lives. Annoyingly, at least in Oscar’s opinion, he has been titled ‘the cool uncle’ from day one. 
“What do we do?” his fiancée asked, snapping him out of his spiraling.
“I imagine it is up to my team to figure that one out. I’ll message them now. Get the kids ready and I’ll be done in time to help with breakfast.” He said as he got up.
After a long, pretty impromptu, call, it was decided Oscar would make a statement about it before it was revealed to be him. He wasn’t too happy about not getting to really do it on his own terms but this is the way it worked out, and hey, Oscar would be lying if he said he wasn’t already planning which race he was going to bring his kids to first.
oscarpiastri
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oscarpiastri This is of course not how I wanted to do this. I had hoped to have more time before I had to let the peace of privacy go but these things happen when you are in the spotlight. So yes, I am a father of two great kids and I have been since I was 18. I am not ashamed by the fact I was a teen dad, and am certainly not hiding my kids out of anything but love. I hadn’t realized I could truly love anything or anyone more than racing but then these two came into my life and I realized I would give it all up for them. Luckily, with the support of their mother (who is my fiancée) and my family, I didn’t have to give it up. My four person family means more to me than anything and I count my lucky stars each night that I have been blessed with them. I ask that you please respect our privacy. This isn’t the end of you seeing the Piastri twins but I, being the over protective father I am, am not ready to throw two 3 year olds into the chaos of the motorsport world just yet.
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Part 2: A Much Needed Interview out now!
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artist-issues · 6 months
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“At least it's not ferociously attacking God quite as directly as Steven Universe did…”
Not that I’m surprised by this statement, but can you elaborate on this? Kinda intrigued by your thoughts on Steven Universe.
Okie dokie, you’re not the only one who has asked me about this, so I suppose I’ll poke the hornet’s nest. 😅 I haven’t talked about this before because I assumed that everyone who wanted to hear my kinds of opinions on stories wasn’t watching or interested in Steven Universe.
It’s like asking vegetarian if they enjoyed a turkey dinner. The turkey dinner was so obviously not made for vegetarians to enjoy, so why would the vegetarian even bother analyzing the turkey?
But I think if some people are asking me why I think Steven Universe is anti-God (of the Bible) its because maybe they don’t know what the turkey is. Not completely. (Maybe not you, because like you said, you’re not surprised by my comment.) So I’ll explain my thoughts on Steven Universe.
If you’re just following me because you liked some stuff I posted, but didn’t realize that I’m a Bible-believing Christian and don’t want to hear about it, unfollow me now. Because I’m going to talk about some hot button issues here and the trolls will come out.
Steven Universe is really well-done. The jokes are funny, the writing is believable, the characters have great chemistry, great design, the concept is fascinating, the slow build-up and reveal of the plot elements is great. But when you watch the throne room scene in the last episode of Season 5 “Change Your Mind,” it’s alarmingly clear how much the whole show is not just settling for defending and championing the LGBTQ+ worldview—it goes all the way to attacking what Christians believe, on the other side.
Anything that’s pro-LGBTQ+ is doing that by default, but this show goes out of its way to do that.
You have to understand: God created and designed us. Deeper than that; He created and designed romantic relationships, and invented marriage. He didn’t just create love—He is love. So when humans come along and do what we’ve always done since the fall, and say, “I’d rather define what Your thing is and how it works for myself, God,” it’s not only an incredible slap in the face, it’s an attack on God’s actual identity—and it’s destructive for us and the people around us. Like a fish insisting it can breathe oxygen.
But Steven Universe goes beyond that. It knows that the Christian worldview is it’s biggest opposition. It digs right down to the heart of the worldview-battle. LGBTQ+ worldview says, “I should get to love what I want and be who I am, because I’m me. Love is love. (By which I mean, any action or relationship I choose to call love is love, because I’m the one calling it that.)”
Biblical worldview says “No, wait, you shouldn’t base your decisions on you alone; what you want changes day to day, and you’re broken, so you can’t ever be satisfied based on what you want—the Bible says God made you for something, and you rejected that, and it broke you. You’re not how you’re meant to be: even what you want and what you think love is is twisted up and can hurt you and others. But if you submit to God He’ll help you, He’ll fix what’s broken and give you new life by making you how you were supposed to be: He’ll live in you and through you.”
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Are we beginning to get the picture?
See, the whole thing with the opposing views between LGBTQ+ and Christian people is as old as time. It’s not a new debate. It’s Satan and Eve in the garden. She says, “This is not how God said things should be,” and Satan says, “Are you sure that’s what He said? He knows if you do this thing, you’ll be like Him. You’ll be god: you’ll get to decide ‘how things should be’ for yourself.”
He lied and said that disobedience would satisfy her. That she knew what her own heart needed better than the God that made it did. That the very act of being imperfect would make her godlike.
And then Steven Universe comes along and says “if every pork chop were perfect, we wouldn’t have hotdogs.”
And has a cast of created being characters who’s imperfections (Garnet’s forbidden “love,” Pearl’s obsession, Amethyst’s insecurity) are supposedly “the best thing about them; what makes them who they are.”
And has a main character who used to be a part of the god-like creator relationship, but used her power to come down to earth and completely change who she is into a fully different person.
And has a godlike Creator character who claims she “doesn’t need” her created beings (just like the God of the Bible) but they all have a little part of their creator in them so she has to repress their imperfections; she holds them all to a standard that’s impossible to reach called “perfection” and punishes them when they don’t meet it even though it hurts them to try; she expects them all to do what they were created by her for; she fixes them when they can’t meet her standard by shining her light through them and making them extensions of their Creator.
And has a main character who argues, fights back, tries to stop her, and is answered with lines that sound surprisingly like what LGBTQ+ people hear when Christians argue with them: “you’re only making things worse; you’re just deceiving yourself; even while you resist it your actual light can’t help shining through,” etc.
White Diamond just wants everything to be perfect. Like her. She just wants her created beings to “be themselves.” But what she means is, be how she created them to be.
And she’s the bad guy. She’s playing God in this show, and Rebecca Sugar is saying, “If God is telling us that can only be happy by being perfect, as He is perfect, and doing what He created us to do, then He’s wrong. Our imperfections are what make us special—unique—individuals—free—and there is nobody who has the right to take that freedom away from us, not even out creator!”
And you know what?
If God were like White Diamond, like Rebecca Sugar believes Him to be, Steven Universe would be right.
But He is NOT.
God is not a dictator who forces us to conform to a standard of perfection and then smashes us when we don’t meet it. He is a King who made us perfect to begin with, and we rejected him, because He allowed us to do that. He knew that true love was love that had to be chosen, and He wanted us to love Him by choice, so he gave us the option. But Rebecca Sugar doesn’t understand—there was never “Choose God or Choose Yourself.” There was only, “Choose God or Choose Nothing.” There was nothing except God. Then He created everything. There is no version of reality where you have something better than God, or even slightly less good but different, to pick. You’re not jumping from one ship into a smaller one, but at least it’s yours—you’re jumping from one ship into a void, and then complaining that there’s no other ship. That’s humans. That’s not God. / White Diamond didn’t make her creations perfect (Amethyst) and she didn’t make them for love. She made them for power. That’s not the God of the Bible.
Even when we did choose to try and love ourselves instead of God, and therefore warped our ability to perfectly love at all, He didn’t smash us. True, everything fell and was cursed, which is exactly what He warned us would happen if we chose it, but it was a natural consequence of breaking ourselves. And then He didn’t leave us that way. He didn’t give up on us. And He certainly didn’t just zap us, snap His fingers, quick-fix it and turn us all into robots who are extensions of Him, who say they love Him but only because it’s His voice puppeting us to say it.
No. He came to us, chose to give up His life at the exact point on the timeline when Romans, masters in the art of slow, humiliating, torturous death, would be the ones to carry out His crucifixion, and saved us Himself. Through the sacrifice of His own life. And even then, we still have a choice. We get to choose to accept that incredible self-sacrifice when we don’t deserve it, and be given new life and a relationship with the Creator who knows us and loves us better than we can love ourselves or receive love from others—OR we can just keep stubbornly insisting that our slavery to the opposite of what God wants is somehow freedom, and our twisted versions of love are genuine, and we’re not broken, and die like that. Die broken creatures who lived their whole lives stomping their feet and screaming “I’m not a creature, I’m a god!”
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White Diamond sacrifices nothing, because Rebecca Sugar doesn’t know the God of the Bible. She just knows her idea of Him. She’s never actually gotten to know Him. If she had, she’d learn how silly and twisted her idea is.
Because you know what, yeah, if every pork chop were perfect, we wouldn’t have hot dogs. But people aren’t pork chops. And hot dogs have flavor (not better than pork chops) but they are awful for you.
Christians aren’t perfect cuts of meat with no individuality or flavor. Just because we all know and love the same God doesn’t mean we have no personalities. It just means we don’t think so freaking much about what we are, or who we get to be, or what we like and want. Jeez, what a self-centered, narcissistic, self-obsessed way to live. She plays Steven like he’s this wonder-child, innocent and full of heart, who encourages his friends to love and keep trying. But honestly?
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This is very pretty animation but it’s not real. Steven looks happy hugging Steven but self-love doesn’t ultimately get you that.
That’s all based on the premise that what he’s encouraging them to do is actually good, and will make them happy, and will help them love better. And it just won’t. Not in real life. That’s not how any of this works. Self-love is just self-obsession. And that is a sure-fire way to hurt you, and everyone around you.
You’ll never be free by choosing to run to a worse master. You’ll never be satisfied with your crappy attempts at loving yourself, because you were made to be loved flawlessly and forever by someone who is Love Himself.
And choosing to identify with your imperfections doesn’t make you uniquely you. It just makes you exactly like every other human being marching in the same line since the Fall.
White Diamond’s not relational. She’s up high and distant. That’s not God. He made you to be in relationship with Him. He loves you, totally and perfectly, and He proved it by sacrificing for You.
So yeah. That’s the problem with Steven Universe. Come get me, SU fans.
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finelinevogue · 3 months
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always
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summary - you and harry finally say those three words
pairing - actress!reader x harry
word count - ~1.5k
💐🌷☀️💗 💐🌷☀️💗 💐🌷☀️💗 💐🌷☀️💗
It was the Oscar’s after party at Vanity Fair and you were a little tipsy.
A happy drunk, some may say.
Just tipsy enough to be able to giggle at everything, but to also still have your entire wits about you. Your boyfriend on your arm was exactly the same. It was lucky neither of you were the designated driver.
“It was nice seeing you!” You politely waved off two people you would not mind never seeing again.
After they were gone, Harry clearly had the same opinion as you.
“Knobheads.” He muttered close to your ear, so no one with a camera could even pick up what he was saying.
“That’s Hollywood, my love.”
“Yeah, but they could have been slightly more discreet about only liking your recent film because you were topless for a small scene.” He huffed.
You looked up at him, filtering out every other star-studded celebrity in the room.
“They were two white old men, what did you expect?”
“Some respect.”
“At least I’ll always have you for that.” You cupped his cheek and his frown melted away. The soft touch of your skin against his was enough to coax back the smile that had been missing on his face.
Harry continued to look at you as you looked at him.
You couldn’t help but give off a blush and a nervous smile as you watched his gaze upon yours. “What?”
“Nothing,” He tried to bite back a ridiculous grin, “Just like that word.”
“What word?” You furrowed your brows in confusion.
“Always.”
You thought back to what you’d just said and you ducked your head to hide the nervous smile widen, docking your forehead onto his chest.
You felt Harry’s chest rise and fall with a chuckle and you wrapped your arms around him to conceal all that happiness between just you two.
It was moments like this when you wanted to lean up and whisper those three words. The three words that apparently change everything. You’d never spoken them to anyone, like this, before so it was difficult to know how to even say them.
You were certain of one thing though. Even though you’d only been together for less than half a year, you’d never felt like this for anyone before. And sometimes you felt like Harry was the same.
You were certain that you loved Harry.
It was only a matter of how to tell him.
•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•
An hour later and you found yourself at the front of the photo booth queue.
Harry had been doing his rounds, saying hello to friendly faces such as Billie and Florence.
You had done your rounds, as well as take non-negotiable photos with your cast mates for one final hurrah.
Even though your movie hadn’t swept at the Oscar’s this year, you were just happy to have been a part of it. Creating movies and bringing stories to life is more than you could ever have dreamed of. Plus, you always had Harry’s hand to hold through it all now - which made it easier.
Harry was in fact holding your hand now.
As Barry and Sabrina walked out of the booth, lipstick smudged all over Barry’s smirking lips, Harry squeezed your hand to signal you were next.
Harry held back the curtain for you, but you waited for him to sit down first.
There was a bench that could fit at least four people on it, but you and Harry had pre-discussed what your photos would be (whilst waiting in the queue) and you’d both agreed that you sitting on his lap was the only way.
The “only way” being Harry’s words…
Not that you minded.
“Only photobooth where you don’t have to pay.” You commented, as you situated yourself sideaways on Harry’s lap.
Your arms slunk across his shoulders for support and his arm wrapped securely around your waist.
You moved slightly to get more comfortable on Harry’s thighs.
“Stop wriggling.” He grunted, making you instantly stop.
“Wh… Oh… Oh, Babe! You’re so….” You laughed at him.
“Hey, you’re not the one who has to go back out there with an obvious issue.”
“Doesn’t have to be an issue…” You attempted your best seductive whisper, but ended up bursting out giggling at the end.
“I hate you.”
You shut up, but his words had you thinking about the hidden meaning. He clearly didn’t hate you, that much was quite visibly obvious, so did he technically mean the opposite? Did he actually mean he lo–
“Y/N/N?” Your nickname being spoken brought you away from your thoughts, “You ready?”
You cleared your throat and approved.
The camera counted down…
The first photo would be of you and Harry simply smiling at the camera, faces leaning against each other.
3. 2. 1.
*snap*
You quickly moved yourselves for the next photo.
The second photo was of Harry kissing your cheek, whilst you made whatever face you wanted to. You decided to scrunch your eyes and smile like an idiot - because that’s how it felt to be in love.
3. 2. 1.
*snap*
In love.
That’s what you were.
You were insanely in love with Harry and he deserved to know. You deserved to share this love.
“Love?” Harry quickly reminded you off the next photo quickly approaching.
It was meant to be of you now kissing Harry’s cheek and him doing whatever he wanted, but now you wanted to do something else.
You cupped the far side of his cheek gently and leant your lips against his ear.
3.
“Y/N?”
2.
“I love you.”
1.
*snap*
Harry quickly turned his head towards you, nearly knocking your nose off in the process.
“What?” He had tiny pools of water collecting in his eyes.
“I love you.” You smiled warmly, softly rubbing over his cheek.
“Fuck.” He smiled, letting a tear fall.
3.
“I love you, too.” He said.
2.
“So much.” He cupped your cheek.
1.
And he kissed you with so much force.
*snap*
You almost fell back with how much he pushed into you, but that’s what kissing him felt like anyway - free falling.
Saying three words had never felt so explosive.
It was like a confetti cannon had been set off and the confetti was all your love for each other being scattered around the photo booth. You felt full and happy, and you could tell by Harry’s kiss that he felt exactly the same.
You pulled back, licking your lips and trying your best not to cry in case it ruined your makeup.
Harry didn’t care, he let some tears fall.
You brushed them away carefully with your thumbs.
“Those better be happy tears and not tears of instant regret.” You joked.
“Happy falls a bit flat of describing how I feel right now, love.”
You giggled and pushed yourself back onto his lips, kissing him to let those three words sink in more.
He moved back, needing to take you in, in this moment, before giving you a few smaller kisses.
“We should go.” You whispered.
“No.” Harry pouted.
“H, this is a photo booth not a kissing booth.”
He laughed, “Okay.”
You both got up to leave, pushing the curtain away and taking the little strip of photos from the deposit on the side of the booth.
Two had printed.
You both laughed at the one where you’d spoken those little words, because Harry’s facial expressions were so funny. He looked a mixture of shocked and happy all at once.
Harry tucked the photo strip into the inside pocket on his suit jacket, whilst you kept a tight grip on yours.
You held onto Harry’s hand and hugged onto his arm.
“That was a better moment than any Oscar award.” You honestly spoke.
Harry leant down to kiss your forehead.
“I love you.” He looked genuinely excited to be able to say that to you. “And I’m proud of you.”
“I know.”
“Oi, don’t you Star wars me!” He mocked. “Say it, or else.”
“I looooovvee you.” You teased out the word. Harry shook his head at you for being so annoying, but also he wouldn’t have it any other way.
Those three words belonged to him now as they belonged to you. And always will.
924 notes · View notes
daemour · 2 months
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Pairing: roommate! San x f! yn
Word Count: 10,664
Warnings: cursing, alcohol consumption, smut warnings under cut
Genre: Angst, fluff, smut, f2l au, college au, M for mature audiences
Summary: As the resident fuckboy San's best friend, you're legally obligated to be his hype man. It's only fitting as you're one of the few who can resist his boyish charms. But when he's set his sights on someone you cannot stand, perhaps you need to dig a bit deeper into your feelings after all.
Smut Warnings: masturbation (f), voyeurism, sexual fantasies, oral (f), missionary, protected sex, very slight breast play, overstimulation, cowgirl, some cumplay, dirty dirty talk, fingering, slight body worship ig?, praise, I literally have no idea I wrote it at a time when I should've been in bed so lmk if I missed anything
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this is for the jackson wang party fic collab finished with @mingsolo (hella good) @flurrys-creativity (Pygalgia, Effervescent, and Abience) and @sanjoongie (trouble) <3 I still have one more to go but we'll ignore that LMAOOOOO I added too much plot :') flurry was a dear and helped me sort out my thoughts and I managed to write 8k of it in one day lol.
hope u all enjoy and sorry I'm a professional yapper there's no shutting me up
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“Going out again?” you ask your best friend and flatmate, San, as he walks past where you’re seated at the kitchen counter, suffering through your essays.
“Yep,” San answers easily, popping the ‘p’ and leaning over to take a peek at your laptop screen. “You misspelt ‘dextrorotatory’, you wrote it as ‘dexrotatory’.”
As your eyes find the typo, you groan and plant your head on the table. “I give up,” you declare dramatically, “I’ll drop out and become a taxi driver.”
San laughs. “First of all, you can’t drive that well. Second of all, you’d make more money as a stripper.” He dodges your smack with ease. “Third, you’re smart and you’ll ace these like always. You’re just a little mentally constipated. Why don’t you join me tonight?”
You think about it for a minute. While you probably do need a break from staring at your laptop, you know how wild the parties San goes to can get from personal experience. And you don’t think it’s a good idea when it's the end of your semester and the final year of your master's program. You just can’t afford to do that. “I’ll pass this time,” you sigh. “Maybe after exam season.”
San hums. “All right. Make sure to take a break, though,” he reminds you, dropping a quick kiss on the top of your head. “See you later.”
He soon disappears out of the door and you turn your focus away from your best friend to your homework. You feel bad for whoever his new conquest will be at the party.
In your opinion, it’s best to keep San at arm’s length when it comes to a romantic relationship. Not that you like him, but you also don’t want to be another notch on his bedpost, and you most certainly do not want to ruin your eight-year-long friendship. It’s not hard to see that San isn’t interested in a long relationship, not right now at least.
You honestly find it amusing that so many girls and guys still throw themselves at him and then get upset when he doesn’t give them a second glance after the initial night. His reputation precedes him, especially in your small town, and yet there will always be a line out the door for him. You don’t even know how he knows so many people.
With a sigh, you clear out your thoughts and refocus on your organic chemistry work. You’re lucky your job offered to pay for your master's classes, but the workload is killing you inside. You’re incredibly happy you’re almost done, and with newfound motivation, you hunker down and start writing out your notes again.
It’s almost two in the morning when you finally yawn and start putting your books away, and it’s almost three when you hear the front door open and the sound of San stumbling into the shoe rack as he always does. “You’re home already, Sanah?”
“YN!” San stumbles his way into the bathroom where you’re combing your hair, wrapping his arms around you and tucking his flushed face into your neck. “You’re still up?”
You laugh, tapping him on the head with your brush. “Yes, but I’m about to go to bed. And you should too, you know.”
San groans, his hold on your waist tightening and his words slurring together. “I don’t wanna,” he whines, “the bed's too cold.”
You sigh fondly. This happens almost every time he drinks, and usually, that’s why he doesn’t drink too much when he’s by himself. He gets too cuddly with people and you’re usually the one to keep him from bedding everyone he sees.  You suppose he somehow didn’t end up with anyone in bed and he’s disappointed now. “Do you think you’ll ever ask to sleep with me nicely, or will you just settle for wrestle-cuddling me into my own bed?” you ask, rolling your eyes as San does not answer, just pulling you towards your room. “There’s my answer.”
You’re too used to his drunk antics and just let him move you around. It’s comforting in a way, that he’s comfortable enough around you to do this with you, and it makes your heart warm whenever he throws his arm around you and presses his face in your neck.
You’d never admit it, but it’s nights like this when you sleep the best. With his warm breath tickling your neck, you let your body relax and your eyes flutter shut.
-
“God, I’ve got a raging headache,” San groans when he sees you enter the kitchen with a mess of bed hair. “I went so crazy with the soju last night, I think I’m going to die.”
You laugh, reaching for the pot to make some oatmeal for him. “Don’t be so dramatic. Why did you even drink so much anyway? No bitches?”
San snorts but immediately whines from the sharp pain that probably shot through his skull. “You’re so mean to me! No, I got no bitches, but that was from my own choice anyway. I don’t want to fuck around anymore.”
Both your eyebrows raise into your hairline. “No? What changed things, hm? Finally decided your one true love is Byeol?” As if on cue, your shared cat meows and curls around your ankles, and you bend down to scratch behind her ears.
“Never had to decide that, we all know she’s the real number one in my life. No, I think I’m interested in someone.” You stop your petting of Byeol, who meows in protest and runs off to pout somewhere. “Come on, don’t act like you just saw a ghost.”
“Who?” is the only question that comes out of your mouth. Of course, San has had a crush before, but he’s never stopped screwing around unless he was actively dating that person. He’s a fuckboy, but he’s not a piece of shit at least. This is new.
“Lee Yeseul. I met her yesterday at the party, and she’s so sweet. She was so out of place at the party, and not in a mean way. She just…has such an aura around her.” San’s voice is soft even just talking about her and you get the feeling he’s being serious. “We’re meeting up for coffee today.”
“That’s…amazing, Sanah. I really hope it goes well for you,” you smile at him, pushing a bowl of oatmeal over to him. “Don’t forget to let me make a speech at your wedding.”
San chuckles, rolling his eyes at your jokes. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t you have study group today? Go there and stop bothering me.”
You ruffle his messy hair before planting a kiss on it and pinching his cheek. He blindly reaches around to smack at you but you dodge him easily, laughing as you head out to grab your keys. “See you later, Sanah. Have a good da-ate.”
San grumbles at you but ultimately returns to his food. You think you can hear him muttering about you being a pain in the ass and you smile to yourself. You don’t have the heart to tell him you know Lee Yeseul…and she’s a major bitch. You sincerely hope she’s sweet to San at least—he deserves the best. But you find her absolutely draining, especially with how often she talks about herself and doesn’t pay attention to anyone else ever. If she cries in your class one more time you think you might smack her yourself.
You still remember the time you had gotten a call that your grandfather had died, and after overhearing your conversation, instead of comforting you, she started talking about how “so many of my family members died in the past ten years.” Sure, maybe she was trying, but you’ve known about her antics enough that it was clear she just wanted to make it about her.
But if San likes her, who are you to interfere? He has a pretty good eye for who has a good personality so maybe Yeseul has changed. You’re not one to stop him. Not that you ever could. When he first started going out to party, you would tag along to make sure he wouldn’t make any bad decisions, but your efforts seldom paid off. You’re pretty sure he must be blessed since he somehow hadn’t pissed off anyone majorly enough to have them call a hit on him.
Shaking your head, you rid yourself of these thoughts and go to the library. There’s no use dwelling on it, the more you think about it, the worse your feeling about his crush on Yeseul gets. He’s a grown man, he doesn’t need you to parent him.
“Woah, who pissed in your cereal?” You should’ve known you wouldn’t be able to hide your bad mood from your study buddy, Hongjoong. Although you only see him for studying, you’re confident enough to call him your closest friend other than San. “Are you okay?”
You sigh, dropping your books on the table. It earns you a harsh ‘shh’ from the librarian which you apologise half-heartedly for. “Do you remember Yeseul? Lee Yeseul?”
Hongjoong’s brows raise high into his hairline. “The professional bitcher? What did she do now?”
“San’s into her, and with her personality, she’s probably loving the attention from the professional heartbreaker.” You groan, glaring at the cover of your organic chemistry textbook. “It’s none of my business if he cares for her, but damn, I wish he could’ve picked anyone else.”
Hongjoong hums, leaning forward and poking at the top of your head. “Look, you’ve been his friend for years. I think you have a bit more of a reason to poke your nose into his business than most. Give it a few weeks, and if it truly bothers you, then you can bring it up to San.”
You sigh. “Maybe.” You say nothing else on the topic and Hongjoong knows not to broach it anymore. Sometimes you wish he wasn’t so smart.
-
“YN, I didn’t know you knew Yeseul!” is the first thing San says to you one week after he returns from one of his many dates with her. “When I mentioned you being my roommate she told me you were in the same class as her.”
You wince to yourself as you take a long swig of your coffee. “Mmh, I didn’t think it was that relevant,” you say. You can practically hear Hongjoong rolling his eyes at your excuse. You know you should tell him your qualms about Yeseul, especially since the gross feeling in your gut has only gotten stronger. But you’re not sure you want to tread those waters. San’s sweet, but he’s loyal to a fault and probably wouldn’t like you talking badly about Yeseul.
San narrows his eyes, clearly suspicious but not willing to pry. “Well, maybe if we ever find you a date, we can go on a double date.” He moves on pretty quickly, though, walking over to lean over your shoulder and look at your laptop. “Still going on that paper?”
You hum, cracking your knuckles. “Yeah, it’s due tomorrow so I need to pump it out today and then get Hongjoong to look it over.” You lean back, letting your head rest on San’s torso as you yawn. “I can’t wait for this to be over so that I can graduate already.”
San laughs, leaning down to rest his chin on your head. “You’re smart. You can do this. And when you’re done, I’ll take you to a party and we can celebrate.”
You groan, shifting forward and putting your hands back on the keyboard. “Well, in that case, I should get back to writing this.” As you start typing again, you hear the buzzer ring and the warmth of San’s body leaves you as he goes to check who it is.
“Oh, hey, Yeseul! Come on up!” Your eyebrows raise into your hairline and your head snaps up. Why would Yeseul go to all this trouble of coming here? Didn’t they just see each other?
You close your eyes and take a couple of deep breaths before facing the dragon herself. You can hear the tell-tale sound of her voice pitched up to sound more sweet, although it’s grown to be grating on your ears. “Hi, Sannie,” she purrs and you have to refrain from retching. “I was on my way home but I realised it went right by your apartment so I figured I could come say hi. It doesn’t look like you’re too busy, right?”
“No, not at all,” San replies, and you hate how sweetly he talks to her. “YN is in too, she’s writing her final paper. Wanna say hi? She could probably use the distraction.”
No, I don’t need the distraction, is what you want to scream out, but your mother did not raise you like that although you wish she did. Instead, you just smile politely at the girl entering your kitchen. “Hello, Yeseul. Good to see you again.”
“Hey, YNie!” Her cheery nickname for you has your eye twitching. “How’s the paper going? I finished mine a few weeks ago so I’m home free. Just need to submit it.”
“That’s great, Yeseul,” you say, tone slightly more monotonous than you wanted it to be and San shoots you a look. “Hopefully you get a good grade on it.”
“Hey, would you want to join us for dinner?” San cuts in and you can already feel a headache starting to pulse behind your eyes. “I was going to order pizza since it’s my turn today and I’m not nearly as good of a cook as YN.”
“Oh, that would be lovely! I don’t mind whatever toppings,” Yeseul claps happily. The urge to punch her in the face increases bit by bit for you. San nods happily, stepping out into the living room to place the call. After a moment, Yeseul turns to you with puppy eyes and you brace yourself for whatever she has up her sleeve. “Could I trouble you for a glass of water, YNie?”
You try your best to keep your composure as you get up to fetch her a glass of water. She takes it without even a thank you and you decide you’d much rather die than deal with her any longer so you close your laptop with a sigh. “I’m actually meeting with a friend for dinner, but you definitely should stay and have fun,” you say, smiling as plausibly as you can. You do not have dinner plans but you’re sure you can figure it out.
When you go into your room, you’re drawing blanks. You’re still going out, but you’ll probably just end up calling a friend to complain. As you leave the room and grab your keys, San meets eyes with you and frowns. “Where are you going?”
“Ah, I promised to have dinner with a friend so I’m heading out. Enjoy your time with Yeseul, though.”
The furrow between San’s brows deepens. “But I already ordered the pizza.”
You laugh, shaking your head. “I can bring the leftovers tomorrow for lunch. Sorry, I just forgot to tell you, but I really have to go now. Bye!” Before he can say goodbye as well, you slip out the door. The suffocating feeling that is encompassing you lifts and you sigh in relief, but then you somehow feel worse at the idea of San and Yeseul having fun and giggling and cuddling.
You shake your head again, trying to clear your muddled thoughts before setting down to go find your dinner. Fast food was the easiest option, and you figured you could at least sit in your car and wallow in self-pity.
-
After you receive your order you park and pull out your phone, scrolling through your contacts. You don’t want to call your family because as much as you love them, they can be a bit over-protective and probably will offer to help you find a different apartment and that would be a bit dramatic. In the end, Hongjoong is probably the next best option.
He doesn't pick up immediately, and you’re just about to hang up when the phone crackles and Hongjoong’s voice comes through. “Why are you calling me?”
You can’t help but bark out a laugh at his disgruntled tone. “Hongjoong, it’s a perfectly reasonable hour to call, don’t blame me for your shit sleeping schedule. Are you actually free though?”
Hongjoong sighs and if you focus you can hear the sound of him rolling over in bed. “What’s up?”
“It’s about Yeseul again. She came around today, and it was just…so suffocating. Like, why did San have to pick her? There’s so many girls, and out of them all he picks her? The most bitchy one I know?”
Hongjoong hums. “Why does it annoy you so much?”
You groan, leaning your head back and taking a long sip of your drink. “She’s self-centred, bitchy, and she’s just so fake. I don’t think this relationship will end well, Joong. Clearly he’s just blinded and she’s so manipulative.”
“But why are you so bothered by this specifically? I mean, sure we’ve had bad interactions with Yeseul, but you’re pretty nonchalant about the shit San gets up to and you like to let him deal with the consequences himself.”
You frown glaring at the phone although you know he can’t see it and you pop a fry into your mouth. “I don’t know. It just feels different. I feel like I should interfere this time. I mean, he’s a lot more serious this go around.”
Hongjoong hums, rolling once again as he yawns. “YN, be totally honest with me. This is a shot in the dark, but I think this is pretty important.” You hold your breath in anticipation. “Do you like San?”
“Oh sure, he’s a good friend–”
“You and I both know that’s not what I meant.” You bite your lip, stiffening in your chair. “YN, you need to be honest with yourself. The way you talk about San, you interact with him, it’s not how just roommates, just friends interact. You kiss each other's heads, YN. And it can be platonic, but I’ve rarely seen San do that to his female friends, and I’ve never seen you do that, period. You don’t even kiss me.” His voice turns teasing on the last bit but you’re too shocked to register.
Do you like San? You love him like a friend, of course. But when you think about him being with anyone else, even if it wasn’t Yeseul, something in you aches. When you think about San’s smile being directed to anyone else, you can feel a burning in your gut. The answer is clear, whether you like it or not.
“I…yes. I do.” The confession comes out quietly. “But I don’t want to do anything about it. Like you said, it’s up to San whether he likes Yeseul enough. I can’t interfere.”
You can practically hear the look Hongjoong would be levelling at you. “Why not?”
You shrug. “When San likes someone, nothing can stop him from liking someone unless he wants to. I’ll just let it run its course and hopefully my own feelings will vanish in the process.”
“That doesn’t sound very healthy, YN.”
You let out a despondent laugh. “Sure, probably not. But who knows? Maybe I can find someone else in the process.” You let out a sigh before glancing at your now-cold sandwich. “I gotta head out, but thanks for talking, Joong. I’ll see you in class.”
Hongjoong can barely say goodbye before you hang up the phone and lean back. This is going to be difficult. The more you see Yeseul, the more you know you’ll accidentally slip up and something will tip her and San off. Your headache is pulsing behind your eyes and you take a small bite of your sandwich, your appetite diminishing. You miss being a child and your biggest worry is that San sneezed on your lollipop.
With another groan, you wrap up the sandwich and just go for a late-night drive instead to clear your head. It’s something that has never failed to calm you down and keep your mind level. San always berates you for driving alone at night, but you’d like to say you’re pretty safe. Plus, even he has agreed that it’s pretty calming when—you frown, forcing thoughts of San to leave your brain.
You don’t really know how long you’ve been out, but it’s surely long enough that Yeseul has left. As you carefully open the door, there’s a long silence, and you sigh, happy you made it home free. But as you’re about to call out for San, you hear a high-pitched moan come from his bedroom. And it certainly is not San.
You almost turn tail and head right back out of the apartment when you hear San’s reverberating moans fill the house. Against your better judgment, you take off your shoes and step closer towards his bedroom. His bedroom door is cracked open and curse him for putting his mirror right in view where you can see him leaning back on his bed, his lower half hidden off the edge of it and you can only see Yeseul’s knees.
And in your head, you know it’s wrong. But your heart is beating out of your chest and you can feel heat building in your core. And, well, you’ve always worn your heart on your sleeve. You keep yourself pressed against the wall, staring at the way the muscles in San’s neck strain and the way he moans with every snap of his hips. You’re sure your panties are soaked through by now, and your teeth sink into your lower lip to keep yourself quiet. The taste of copper enters your mouth but you couldn’t care less.
It’s only when San sits up, probably to fuck into Yeseul better and he disappears from the mirror that you rip yourself away and escape into your own room. Not another thought enters your brain as you strip your leggings and underwear off, flopping on your bed and closing your eyes as you let your hand trail down to press against your slick pussy. It doesn’t take long for you to sink your fingers into your sopping cunt, turning your head to bury your face into your pillow.
The guilt in the back of your mind is quickly sent away as you imagine San’s hands fucking you instead. He’s always had well-worn hands, and your brain fogs up as you imagine him leaning forward to mouth at your neck as he fucks you.
Your brain flips back and forth between the idea of him eating you out so well and fucking so many loads into you with his thick cock that your stomach swells and you whimper into your pillow as your core tightens and you come onto your fingers. You feel tears prick your eyes as you get up to wipe your hands of the cream coating your fingers and toss the tissue in the trash. You’re not sure how you’ll be able to face San or Yeseul again after that.
You can feel the shame burning inside of you and you close your eyes and cry yourself to sleep silently.
-
Waking up is disorienting, your eyes red-rimmed and your bottom lip raw and blood dried on it. You feel like death and you’re pretty sure you can’t attend class like this. You lean over and grab your phone, yawning as you send your professor a text with a weak excuse. You don’t really care how plausible it is, Professor Jeong usually is quite understanding so you don’t worry about that for too long. San had texted you an hour ago, asking if you had come home, and you choose not to answer it.
You can hear mumbling in the other room, probably Yeseul and San sharing goodbyes, when you hear the door shut behind her. Unlike you, she’s probably happy to go to class and tell all her friends about her night with the campus fuckboy.
It takes another thirty minutes for you to finally roll out of bed and put some lotion on your face, hoping for the traces of the questionable night you had to erase from your face. Once you’re satisfied with your appearance, you venture out into your living room where San is standing by the door. “When did you get back?” he asks without even turning around. “I texted you like, an hour ago.”
You shrug, avoiding his eyes as you move into the kitchen to find breakfast. “I only just woke up, San.”
Your roommate gives a short huff, following close behind you. “Don’t you have class? Yeseul just left so you could walk with her.”
You try not to roll your eyes at the idea of that. “I’m not feeling well so I don’t think I’ll go.” “You’re not feeling well?” San’s voice deepens in concern and as you grab a yoghurt, he places his hand atop your forehead. “You are feeling pretty warm.”
At his touch, too many memories of last night flood through your brain and you shake away his hand. “Yeah. I’ll just go lie down for a little. Have a good day.”
Before he can say anything else, or realise your suspicious behaviour, you dodge past him and head off back into your room to hide. “I left your pizza in the fridge,” he calls after you and you just grunt in thanks before barricading yourself in your room.
You lean against the door for a minute before you realise you didn’t even grab a spoon. Unwilling to go back out there, you’ve resigned yourself to licking it out of the container like a cat when you hear a gentle knock at the door.
“I got you a spoon,” San’s unsure voice filters through the wooden door, and you squeeze your eyes shut.
“Thanks, San,” you murmur, turning to open the door a crack and take the proffered utensil. “Sorry for being short with you.”
His lips quirk into a half-smile, a silent acceptance of your apology. “I get it. Just get some rest, YN.”
You close the door again, this time a warm heart in your chest mixing with the guilt you still feel in your gut. You’re not sure how on earth you’re going to get over your feelings for San.
-
Avoiding San goes well for the most part. You are in your finals week anyway, and you’re spending most of your time at the library or in class. Your college’s library stays open for 24 hours during the last week of school anyways so some nights you’ve just been staying there until morning. Hongjoong disapproves heavily but doesn’t say much about it and you appreciate his support either way.
Avoiding Yeseul proves much harder. She seems to always find her way to wherever you happen to be, interrupting you and Hongjoong’s study sessions with a perfect smile and narrowed eyes. You don’t know what she wants from you, and you aren’t pleased with her presence.
But one evening, you’re about to leave the library to have some dinner when she corners you. “YN, let’s talk,” she says in that sickeningly saccharine voice of hers, looping her arm into yours and pulling you down the street. “I have some things to ask you.”
Unwilling, you try to tug your arm out of her grasp, but the girl is stronger than you expected. She pulls you all the way to her dorm on campus, sitting you down on her leather couch. “What is your relationship with Choi San?”
Her question comes so suddenly you need a minute to register. To her credit, Yeseul waits patiently for you to gather your thoughts. “He’s my friend and roommate?” you say as truthfully as you can muster, although you know it’s an absolute lie, and judging from her expression, Yeseul doesn’t believe you either.
“Don’t take me as a fool, YN. The way he talks about you is undeniable.”
“That seems like something you should be talking to him about,” you say, attempting to get up from the couch but Yeseul just pushes you back down.
“I’ve tried. He just tells me there’s nothing to worry about and I don’t believe that,” Yeseul grits through her teeth.
And you have to give it to her. She did try to come to San about her worries. But the way she refuses to trust him grates on your nerves. He stopped his fuckboy activities to be with her, and yet she’s worried about you, one of the few girls who isn’t all over him at any moment. You arch a brow. “Do you not trust him?”
Yseul scoffs. “Of course not. He’s a fuckboy. But I like the status I get with him. I just don’t want to end up embarrassed.”
Well, that will be inevitable, you can’t help but think to yourself. No matter how much your relationship with San is strained, you’re not about to let Yeseul talk shit about him like he isn’t genuinely trying for her.
“That’s where you come into play,” Yeseul’s smirk turns sharp. “I’m going to call San. Ask him to choose between us. If he chooses you, then I want you to stay far, far away from him.”
You shrug. No matter the outcome, it’s not like you’re not already keeping your distance from San. In the end, you’ll just tell him to break up with her and let him deal with the chaos himself. “Go ahead,” bitch.
San picks up on the first ring. “Yeseul?” He’s cheery and your heart aches at the thought of Yeseul breaking his so easily. “What’s the occasion?”
“Hey, babe, I just have a quick question, and I need you to answer truthfully for me, okay?” At his pause, she takes that as a go-ahead. “Who would you pick? Me or YN.”
There’s a long silence on the phone. “Yeseul, we need to break up.”
Only one thing unites you and Yeseul in this moment, and it’s your shared confusion for San’s reaction. “What do you mean?” her voice turns panicked. “Isn’t that a little far?”
“You’ve been stuck on this, and I don’t know how much I have to reassure you, Yeseul. I haven’t even seen YN for the past two weeks. And she’s my closest friend. I’m not dropping her for a two-week relationship. I hope you have a good time, Yeseul.”
Before you can react at all, Yeseul screeches and points an accusing finger at you. “This is all your fault, YN!”
Your jaw drops at her absolute audacity. “My fault? What are you on? I was just trying to live peacefully when you dragged me into this plot ignoring my advice. I told you to talk to him, to just fucking trust him. God, you’re an idiot. And I’m going home.”
Without another word, you leave, still fuming over that interaction. Couldn’t she just have made the call without you? You’re happy you don’t have to do all the convincing for San to leave her, but that just complicates things for you. Would he really so easily drop Yeseul just for you? From what you’ve heard, he was practically head over heels for her.
With another sigh, you head back to the library. You need to finish that exam.
-
“Pens down, and turn in your exams,” you hear the professor call, and you don’t think you’ve ever gotten up so fast. You’re so, so fucking happy that you’ve finished your last year and now you’re free.
As soon as your professor accepts your paper you race out of the lecture hall, only stopped by the cafeteria when you hear someone call your name. Lee Juyeon, someone you’ve started growing closer to, waves you down. “Hey, YN, congrats on finishing!” he smiles at you and you can’t help but smile back, the giddiness contagious.
“Thanks! You too,” you say, pulling him into a hug. “It’s so nice to be done.” Practically nothing could dampen your mood, especially seeing Juyeon. He’s sweet, and you have an inkling he likes you. And you’re not opposed to it.
“It really is,” Juyeon agreed cheerfully. “Look, I have to go celebrate with my family, I just wanted to say hi. But hey…there’s this end of the year party on Saturday, and I was wondering if you wanted to go with me.”
And your suspicions were right. You think about it for a moment. You’re not the biggest party person, anyone knows that, but Juyeon is sweet and just what you need, so you accept eagerly. It doesn’t take long for the two of you to exchange numbers and for him to promise to send you more details before he runs off. And through your excitement, you know you still have to go meet with San who’s probably waiting for you just outside. He wanted to see you as soon as you finish your exams, and you didn’t have the heart to decline.
“Congratulations on finishing your last exam, YN!” San cheers as soon as you exit the college building. “I’m so proud of you!”
You’re too tired to complain when San sweeps you up into a hug, just letting yourself relax in his firm arms. After all this work, you think you’ll let yourself indulge in his affection. “Thanks, Sanah. I appreciate it.” You let your chin rest on his broad shoulder, closing your eyes and letting the exhaustion take over you. “Can I go to bed now?”
You hear him chuckle, the vibrations from his chest comforting you. “Yeah, yeah. We can celebrate later. Come on.”
He tugs you all the way to your apartment, dropping you on the couch and quickly curling right up next to you. You can’t bring yourself to care. “I’m proud of you,” he repeats into your hair as he tucks your head into his neck. Your eyes flutter shut.
When you reopen them, it’s bordering on evening. San is no longer wrapped around you, and you can hear him moving about in the kitchen. “San,” you call out, voice raspy from having just woken up. “What are you doing?”
“Ah, I’m making dinner,” he responds, his voice too warm for your liking, your heart beating just a little faster. “Come and eat.”
With a bit of difficulty, you rise from the couch and move to the kitchen, taking a seat at the counter. “Japchae? When did you learn how to cook this?”
San chuckles. “Wooyoung taught me the other day because he was bored. I figured it’d be a nice surprise for you after all your hard work.”
Your lips twitch, unsure if you should smile or pout. “That’s sweet. Thank you again, San.”
As you start eating the noodles (there’s a little too much sesame but you don’t have the heart to tell San that), San clears his throat. “So…I promised to take you to a party.”
You vaguely remember this conversation. “Ah, yeah. What did you have in mind?”
“There’s this end of the year party, it’s supposed to be the biggest one, hosted by Jackson Wang.”
“Ah–” you shake your head, eyes apologetic. “I promised someone else I’d go with them. I didn’t know that was the party you wanted to take me to. Maybe we can do something else on a different day?”
San’s lips turn downward the slightest bit. “That’s okay. There are other parties. Who invited you, by the way?” His tone is casual, and yet you still feel like you’re walking into the lion’s den.
“Ah, Lee Juyeon from college. I think he’s in Hongjoong’s philosophy department, but he’s a year behind. He’s cute so I figured I’d give it a try.”
“It’s a date?” Your brows furrow at the heaviness in San’s voice but you pay it no mind and nod. “I see. Well, have fun.”
The rest of the dinner is filled with silence, San picking at his food and you in no mood to try and dissect his mood. He takes your empty bowl and starts doing the dishes, and you mumble out a thank you before running back to your room. He’s clearly not willing to talk more and it’s best to give him space.
As you lay in bed, you can’t help but worry about what is so grating on his mind after you mentioned your date. You can’t think of anything that would cause him to be angry—as far as you’re aware he has no grudges against Lee Juyeon, much less met him. Shaking your head, you try and fall asleep. It’s best not to dwell on it, you can just ask him tomorrow.
-
It’s Saturday, and you’re in a foul mood. San hasn’t spoken to you in the four days leading up to the party, avoiding you like there’s no tomorrow. The only saving grace comes in the form of Juyeon’s excited texts, telling you all about his outfit for the party, and you respond with matching enthusiasm. When you meet with Juyeon in front of the large house where the party is held, the thought of San isn’t even on your mind. Instead, you just take Juyeon’s offered hand and follow him into the party.
You weave through the bodies, reaching the counter where shots are being passed around. “Want vodka or tequila?” Juyeon asks, his voice pitching higher to be heard over the bass. Without answering him, you just reach for the bottle of tequila, pouring the two of you shots. “Good choice,” Juyeon laughs, throwing his head back as he downs the alcohol, you following suit shortly.
“You know, I never pegged you for a college party fan,” you lean in, laughing. “Maybe I should hang out with you more.”
Juyeon chuckles, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Maybe you should. I know great party-throwers. Although I’ve heard you’ve been to your fair share, what being San’s friend and all.”
You shake your head, a smile on your face. “Maybe at first, but you know, organic chemistry isn’t an easy major to balance with a party life.”
Juyeon laughs loudly, bumping you with his hip. “I understand the pain. Philosophy falls into that category of majors too. Another shot?”
You take the second shot happily, letting the alcohol burn through your veins as you stumble alongside Juyeon’s wandering through the crowd. Whatever you’re doing is a blur, all you can focus on is Juyeon’s smile and his warm hand holding yours.
It feels like barely a moment has passed when Juyeon pulls you into a nearly empty room of couches, only a few other couples lingering in the corners. “I hope you’ve been enjoying yourself,” Juyeon starts, his eyes sparkling as he takes in your appearance. “It’s been fun hanging out.”
“I did too,” you agree with a small smile, looking up at him through your lashes.
He leans in, and you lean in, and your lips brush. It’s a sweet kiss, one that you lean into as Juyeon wraps his arms around your waist. It’s warm and you smile into it. And then a familiar face pops into your head. You wonder to yourself how San would kiss you, if he would do it as sweetly as Juyeon or if he would devour your lips like it was his last meal.
When Juyeon pulls away for air, you feel guilt burning in your stomach again. Why would you think of other men when Juyeon’s right here in front of you? As Juyeon leans in to kiss you again, you almost move back before a hand grips your shoulder and pulls you into a broad chest.
“Hey, man, I’m going to have to talk to YN if you don’t mind.” You’d recognise your best friend’s voice anywhere, and it only serves to fill you with annoyance. Sure, you weren’t as into Juyeon’s kisses as you expected, but it doesn’t mean you’re thrilled to be interrupted by the man who’s been ignoring you.
Juyeon takes one look at San, and something changes in his eyes. A mix of reluctance and acceptance, and with a short nod and smile towards you, he slips away from you. You turn to San, frowning at the sharpness in his narrowed eyes, not one you’re used to seeing or enjoy seeing. “Why would you kiss him?” he spits, and your annoyance grows with confusion being added to the mix.
“What do you mean, ‘why kiss him’? I told you, San, I was on a date. Why the fuck did you interrupt us?”
“I like you.” Those three words would be a dream for you to hear from his mouth…if you weren’t so pissed.
“No, fuck that. I do not need to hear that from you right now. Not when I was enjoying my night with Juyeon. What was confessing supposed to do for you, San? It’s too late now. I wanted to enjoy this party, and now I have to go apologise to Juyeon for you.” San opens his mouth to speak, but you shake your head, pushing him away from you.
You leave San standing by himself as you search for Juyeon, your mood immediately souring. Why would he fucking do this to you? You can feel tears burning your eyelids and you abandon your search for Juyeon, searching instead for some liquor to take away your embarrassment.
As you pour yourself another shot of tequila, you notice a familiar face, Hongjoong talking to a girl you recognise as someone he hangs out with sometimes. They look like they’re getting it on and you feel a little bad, but you need his advice. “Hey, Kim Hongjoong!” you call out to him, waving him over. Hongjoong’s eyes brighten and he makes his way over, leaving the girl staring after him longingly, but her attention is soon taken away by two other guys. You recognise one of them from the cafeteria but you don’t remember his name.
“Hey, YN, what’s up? I didn’t expect to see you here, did San take you?” Your face falls and Hongjoong realises he stepped into dangerous territory. “Okay, what happened?”
-
“I can’t believe San is mad at me for kissing someone at the party,” you groan after explaining to Hongjoong the events leading up to now. “Sure, maybe it wasn’t the best move on my part but he’s had like, twenty million one-night stands, and yet I can’t kiss someone else? He hasn’t even talked to me after I mentioned going on a date. And yet he looked positively murderous after he saw me kissing that other guy.”
Hongjoong tilts his head, confused. “Isn’t that what you wanted, though? You like him.”
“I did! I do! But I’m so sick of waiting around for him, and I could’ve had a chance at liking someone else. He’s all over the place, and I don’t know if that’s what I want in a man.” You’re lying to both Hongjoong and yourself, and Hongjoong knows it, raising an eyebrow.
“Honestly, YN, it just sounds like you need to talk to him.” Hongjoong crosses his arms, tapping his foot and eager to back to the girl was with, but also not wanting to ditch you in your time of need. You feel a little bad for pulling him away, but your mind is swirling with so many thoughts, you don’t know if you can sort them out by yourself and drinking to erase those thoughts is not something you like to do. You’re not San.
And speak of the devil, you smell his familiar cologne before his hand lands on your shoulder and pulls you into his chest. You whirl around out of his grip and glare at him. “Get off me,” you snap. “I’m in the middle of a conversation right now, Choi San.”
With one glance at Hongjoong, he raises his hands and winks at you. “Have that talk, YN. It’ll do you more good than harm.”
Oh, you’re going to kill that traitor after the party. You turn your attention back to San, your mouth twisted into a frown. “You make this quick or else.”
San has the decency to look a little ashamed as his eyes shake. “Can we talk on the patio? It’s too loud in here.”
With a dramatic sigh, you grab his wrist and pull him through the crowd to the back door, practically slamming it behind you. You can see the eyes of people interested in the drama through the windows but you pay it no mind. “Speak. You get five minutes before I go back in and you don’t talk to me again for the rest of the night.”
San’s face falls and his lips pull into a pout. But no matter how subconsciously adorable he is, you refuse to fall for his charms this time. The heat of anger is still curling in your gut when you think about the argument from earlier. “YN, come on, I had a good reason.”
You shake your head, ignoring the strands of hair that fall into your eyes. “No, San. Confessing to me is not a good reason to fuck up my night. You didn’t even apologise. You’ve been ignoring me for days after I mentioned my date, and the moment I kiss Juyeon you get all angry and jealous? Be for real.” You pause for breath, glaring daggers into his eyes. “You are not owed my time, especially after that shit you pulled. Yeseul’s jealousy is why you broke up with her, so why are you like this to me?”
San’s gaze intensifies and you can see him actively trying to reign in his temper. Although he does his best to remain calm, if tempers are rising, he can be intense. “YN, what was I supposed to do? Watch you go out with him? Watch you slip from my fingers just like that?”
“Yes!” you all but scream at him. “If I could sit by and let Yeseul take each little bit of your heart, you could’ve done the same! I was going to be happy, San! I wouldn’t have to sit behind and watch you from the sidelines with my heart slowly cracking. But I don’t get that same courtesy.”
You step forward, poking his chest with a finger as you let loose your storm of thoughts. In your anger, you don’t even notice San’s arm moving until it wraps around your waist and pulls you into him. The action shocks you enough that you stop mid-sentence, your finger still pressing into San’s flesh. “You love me?” San leans in, his nose brushing against yours.
You can feel heat flare up in your face as you stare wide-eyed at him. It takes you a moment to register your compromising position and you stumble back, pushing at his chest. “Don’t do that,” you hiss, turning your eyes away. “I don’t like you, San. Not anymore.”
“You’re lying.” San’s voice is firm. “Look at me in the eyes and tell me you don’t like me anymore.”
You don’t know where you got it from. You’ve never been good at lying, not to San. Maybe it was the alcohol burning through your system, mixing with the shame and anger you feel. But this time, you stare him directly in the eye and say the four words that might’ve been the biggest lie in your life. “I don’t like you.” San’s brows furrow and he shakes his head.
“No–”
“Yes, San. You cannot just waltz around and expect me to keep the patience I had for you. I’m sick of being pulled around like a puppet. Maybe at first you didn’t know. But refusing to give me space when I asked for it?” You shake your head, glancing back at the party. “I’m going back in. We can talk about the apartment lease later.”
Without glancing back, you re-enter the house. And maybe it hurts a little that he doesn’t go after you, but at this point, you’re too numb and all you want to do is go home and cry. But home is not an option, not when it would probably be the first place he would look for you. Fighting back the tears threatening to fall from your eyes, you slide into your car, staring blankly at the wheel for a long moment until you feel composed and sober enough to drive.
And drive you certainly do. You’re not quite sure where you’re going, and you’re plenty aware that this is a bad idea, but you just let yourself go around and calm yourself down first. The crisp breeze paired with the warm spring air does wonders to clear your head and paired with the late times, there are not too many cars out. It’s peaceful.
You’re not too sure how long you were out, but it’s long enough for the blurry memory of the argument to clear and you groan, pulling over to park by the side of the road and let your head hit the steering wheel. You went too far. San had always been the more emotional of you two, always wearing his heart on his sleeve. He must’ve had a hard time with Yeseul, and although it doesn’t excuse him, you never gave him a chance to properly apologise.
With a sigh, you check your phone to see five missed calls and twenty texts from San asking where you are. He somehow even got your neighbours (a sweet couple in their twenties who babysit Byeol sometimes) to ask you if you’re okay. As your finger hovers over the call button, debating whether to call him back, bright headlights shine behind your car and you stiffen. Your hand hovers over the pepper spray you keep in the dash as you press the call button in a panic. No matter what the disagreement was about, you know San would still come to your aid if you needed it.
“YN, open the door. I’ve been worried sick!” San’s voice crackles through the receiver and you spin around in your seat, squinting at the figure standing behind your car and your shoulders sag in relief.
“God, San, you scared the shit out of me!” you scold, leaning over to unlock the passenger seat and push the door open while hanging up the call. “Get in here.”
A haggard-looking San slides in, his eyes red-rimmed and mouth pressed into a thin line. The car that drove him turns and you look back in confusion before San starts explaining. “I wanted to give you space so I stayed at the party,” he starts explaining after a moment. “But I got worried and went to the apartment to find you. But you weren’t there, and I asked all your friends. I’m lucky you left your location on, and my friend gave me a ride.”
You wince. You forgot about turning off your location, although you’re glad you didn’t as it would’ve been more dangerous otherwise. “I’m sorry,” you mumble, turning your eyes to look out the windshield. “I just needed to clear my head so I went for a drive.”
There’s a long period of suffocating silence between the two of you when San finally speaks, his voice quiet. “I’m sorry,” he starts and your head snaps towards him, eyes wide. Of all the things you expected to fall from his lips, an apology is not one of those things. Not tonight, at least. “I was too pushy. I shouldn’t have ignored you, or interrupted your time with Juyeon. I should’ve talked to you like an adult.”
You laugh, resting your head on the steering wheel. “What an astute observation, San. However did you come to that conclusion?” Your exasperation is evident in your tone and San sucks in a breath at how done you seem. “Look, San. I’m sure you didn’t mean it to be that bad. But I’m just…tired. I’m tired of always wondering what is running through your mind, where I am in your list of importance. You date Yeseul, but break up with her over me. You give me the cold shoulder when I go on a date, but suddenly me being on a date is unacceptable. I just don’t know how to take anything.”
Against your will, tears start to drop onto your thighs, streaking down the skin and you sniff. “Shit,” San panics beside you. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.” He hands you a tissue and you take it with shaking hands, pressing your face into it as San tugs you closer, guiding you to lean against him.
He repeats soft little ‘sorry’s and leans his head atop yours, his tears falling onto your hair. The two of you stay in this position for a long while, no words are needed to understand the emotional moment.
“Let’s go home, YN,” San mumbles, his voice vibrating deep in your heart. “Let’s go home and we can talk tomorrow.”
You sniff again, tears run dry as you sit up and wipe your eyes. “Okay,” you whisper out. “Let’s go home.”
San stays attached to you throughout the drive home, his hand gripping onto your own hand whenever he can, and quickly wrapping you into a back hug as you walk up to the apartment. “I…cuddle with me tonight?” you ask, eyes flitting away from his face, missing the brilliant smile that spreads across it.
“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he hums, walking with you to his room, and he lets you slide in first, the smell of his detergent filling your mind and your eyelids flutter shut already. San crawls in next to you, pulling you close.
“Good night, YN,” San mumbles as your breathing evens out. As you drift off into sleep, you swear you feel his soft lips on your forehead but you dismiss it as wishful thinking.
-
When you reawaken, San’s still curled up, your body covered by his, his breathing slow and gentle. You can’t help but blink a couple of times to make sure it isn’t a dream when his arms tighten around your waist and he shifts. “YN?” His morning voice is as rough as always, rumbling low in his chest.
“Hey, Sanah,” you greet him quietly, leaning up to meet his eyes blinking slowly at you like a cat’s. “Good morning.”
“Hi.” He dips his head to nuzzle into your neck, breathing in your scent. “I should probably explain myself.” His voice vibrates against your neck and you giggle softly at the ticklish feeling.
“That would be nice.”
San huffs, but he can’t complain about your snark. “I like you, YN. I don’t know when I started to, and I definitely didn’t realise I did until I started dating Yeseul. I did like her, but not as deeply as I thought I did. It was so easy to break up with her as soon as she made me pick between you and her. The answer came to me without a doubt in my mind as soon as the question left her lips, and yet I still didn’t realise my true feelings.” He laughs self-deprecatingly, and you stroke his hair comfortingly. “I didn’t realise why I was so pissed about you going out with Juyeon, and that’s why I was avoiding you. It’s a stupid reason, I know. But I just didn’t know why, not until I saw you at the party kissing him. I just wanted to be there instead of you. And I’m sorry, and I understand if you don’t like me anymore, but–”
“I love you.”
His head snaps up to stare at you after your sudden declaration, and after he registers your words a smile spreads across his face. He puffs out a breathy chuckle and you know his answer before he even says it. “I love you too.”
His eyes shine like you’ve hung the stars in the skies, and when they flit down to your lips, you know an unspoken question when you see it. You lean forward slowly, letting your eyes close once more when your lips meet his.
And damn, you were right about how San kisses. In a second, he deepens the kiss, bringing his hands up to cup your face while his tongue swipes at your lips. Shyly, you part your lips and he dives right in, licking into your mouth and biting at your lips.
“Sanah,” you gasp into his mouth, the sound swallowed by his plush lips. “Sanah–”
You repeat his name like a prayer as his lips travel down to your neck, littering wet kisses and bite marks all over your sensitive skin. “Fuck, baby, you’re so sweet to me,” San moans against your body. “Please, please, let me treat you right, make it up to you. Let me worship you.”
You whine as he laves his tongue over your breasts spilling out of the crop top you had worn last night. Any other time you would’ve stressed at how gross the clothes were but right now you could hardly even think about it. “Fuck, yes, please,” you beg when San nips at your cleavage, leaving a mark.
“Ah, already begging for me,” San groans, his hips pressing into your legs. “You’re so perfect.” His voice grows whiney as his sucks on your nipples, making your back arch.
His kisses move down your body until his breath is ghosting over your stomach and his hands are pawing at your pants, shoving them down as quickly as he can. He doesn’t have the same amount of minimal patience for your panties, and before you can react, he’s ripped them off your legs. “Choi San!” you scold, shifting to try and sit up but his grip on your hips stops you from moving too far.
“I’ll buy you a new pair,” San promises before diving right in and sucking at your clit without another moment’s hesitation. Your hips jerk and your core tightens at the sudden feeling as you throw your head back and moan so loudly it’s bordering on a scream
His ministrations on your dripping cunt have you wordless. His fingers are pressing into your hip bones, the sensation making you squirm. As soon as his tongue breaches your clenching hole your hands fly down to grasp at his hair. “Fuck–” you squeal, your legs attempting to close but San just pushes them apart again, busying himself in your folds.
“Fuck, you taste so good,” San groans, the vibrations sending shivers up your spine as he lets his teeth scrape against your clit. You can hardly focus on anything at the barrage of sensations filling you up, San fucking his tongue into you so well. Your thighs are shaking as you can feel yourself grow wetter and wetter against his face.
When you tilt your head down, he meets your eyes as he moves one of his hands to push a finger into your hole. “Shit–” your grip on his hair tightens impossibly. “Sanah–”
“Come for me, love,” San groans, and you let the dam break, screaming out his name until your voice is hoarse, and San licks up your release through it all.
When he finally pulls away from your twitching and sensitive core, his lips are covered in your glistening slick, thick globs of it sitting pretty on his chin. Without thinking, you pull him down and crash your lips against his, tasting yourself on his tongue. San groans as you lick his face clean, shoving your tongue deep into his mouth.
“Fuck, I need to fuck you right now or else I think I might go insane,” San growls, blindly fumbling in his nightstand to pull out a condom as he shoves down his sweats to reveal his hard, red cock. Without another thought, he opens the pack with his teeth, rolling the latex down his length with ease thanks to the precum dribbling down it.
He lines up, the tip of it kissing your hole, when you groan. You’re much too impatient for this, reaching down and holding him steady as you shift your body to sink onto his thick cock. “Shit, YN,” San grits out as you take him deeper and deeper until your cunt kisses his crotch. “You’re too much.”
You pant, shifting on his cock as you try to get used to the stretch. He’s not the longest you’ve had, but he’s thick and the stretch is almost too much. “You’re fucking talking, you fill me up so fucking well, Sanah.” You hiss as you throw your head back, the stinging melting into pleasure. “Fuck me already, San. Or should I go and find Juyeon to–”
You’re cut off by San thrusting into you so violently that you swear the bed shakes. “I don’t want to hear that fucking name out of your mouth anymore,” San commands, leaning forward until his body weight pins you down and your eyes roll back as he starts fucking into you with short, quick thrusts.
With every movement, you feel like you may break apart. You can hear every slick sound, the sound of it obscene, and yet all you want is more. Your previous release coats his cock so well, thick strings of it attaching to his hips.
His arms wrap around your waist, and before you can protest or do anything, he hoists you up until you’re sitting in his lap. You swear this angle makes him impale you even deeper, his cockhead kissing the perfect spot deep inside you. Your head drops to San’s shoulder, moaning against the fabric of his shirt. “Fuck, San, you’re so deep,” you moan high-pitched. “You’re so fucking good for me.”
San growls, pressing a kiss behind your ear. “You’re so tight for me, so much better than Yeseul. I saw you in the mirror, you know,” he whispers conspiratorially and you gasp and clench, snapping your head to look at him. “You’re not as sneaky as you thought, love. Did you touch yourself to the thought of me fucking you so well?”
You whine, words failing you, and San’s hips slow to a stop. You try your best to grind against him but his hands grip your waist, keeping you still. “Please–” you try to beg but San chuckles and nips at your earlobe.
“Answer me, YN.”
“Fuck– Yes!” you cry out, so eager for him to start moving again. “Wanted you to fill me with your cum so well until it was spilling out of me. Please, please, please, fuck me.”
“Hm.” And without any warning, San jerks his hips up into you, biting into your neck like a fucking vampire and you scream, hips stuttering as you come on his cock. You don’t think you’re making any coherent noises, just babbling into his neck as your bones become jelly from the overstimulation.
If you thought the sounds were obscene before, you swear they’ve become ten times worse as you lay limp against San’s body. He’s moving you up and down his cock like a doll and you pant, squeezing your eyes shut as you still feel aftershocks from your orgasm.
“Shit, you’re so warm around me, I’m gonna come,” San moans in your ear, his rhythm breaking as he drops your weight on his cock. You can feel him twitching inside you as his teeth sink into your neck once more. “God, I want to fill you up so badly, but that’s just going to have to wait, my love.”
After a long moment, he pulls out, groaning at your come coating the condom and his thighs. Without thinking, he dips his fingers in the mess and brings it to his mouth, licking it off like it’s the most delicious thing in the world to him. “Come here, baby,” he says in that beautifully raspy voice, and you lean forward, meeting his lips in another kiss.
This kiss is sweet and soft, but the lingering taste of your shared releases still permeates your taste buds. You sigh, leaning your head against his shoulder as he lays against the wall with you in his arms.
“I’m sorry,” he apologises again, pressing another kiss to the top of your head and it’s almost like he hadn’t fucked you like it was your last day on earth. “I won’t ever leave you again.”
You hum, turning your head to pepper kisses over his neck freckles. “I should be the one saying that. I love you, San. And I’ll always run to you with no hesitation.”
817 notes · View notes
hotpinkstars · 4 months
Note
AHHH LOVED THE AL HAITHAM FIC SMM but if you dont mind what was going through al haithams head when he realized she left??
-> the house will never be the same again pt. 2
synopsis -> after being incredibly disrespected by your husband, alhaitham, you moved to liyue. what is going through his mind when you leave?
a/n -> AHHH i'm so happy you liked it!!! and i don't mind making a pt. 2 at all sorry this has been sitting here for a while but i hope you enjoy! here is part 1.
warnings -> all hurt no comfort, reader never turns up lol
w/c -> 1.2k
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it’s been about a week now, and you’re already settled into liyue. you’ve caught the eye of a bunch of passersby in the city- a sumeru vision wielder living in liyue harbor? 
thankfully, you had the traveler and a kind woman from the qixing named ganyu able to assist you with questions about the city. the first day you got there, she noticed your vision, and asked you all about it. it soon led to the two of you hitting off the start of a friendship in a nice restaurant- with ganyu telling you all of the things to do in liyue, the jobs that can be taken, and how magical the lantern rite especially is. you mentioned to her that you had a passion for the arts, and she immediately helped you look for a side job to make a little bit of mora to pay rent in your nice abode in the middle of the harbor.
“so, were your travels from sumeru alright? i’ve heard trudging through desert is not a very enjoyable experience..” ganyu questioned, a slight grin to be found on her face. “though, i have heard that the city down there is very nice. i would love to visit for myself one day, but with work and adeptal business it makes my days a little tight.”
you nod before replying. “the city is beautiful, especially at night. theres a gorgeous stage down there too, where a young woman named nilou always performs on special events. it’s always been the most majestic part of the city, or at least in my opinion.” 
ganyu lets out a noise of fascination, before giggling a little. “i would love to watch her dance. nilou is a familiar name, some people here strictly go to sumeru just to see her. i bet she’s as wonderful as everyone makes her out to be.” ganyu sighs. “i wonder if she travels? we have nice performing places here, too.”
you nod. “occasionally. it mostly has to be a big event for her to arrive, though.” you take another bite of your food. “but i bet if i asked her, she’d come out for at least a few days.”
that made ganyu smile once more, before she asked another question. “well, this may be an odd question, but do you have any romantic relationships?” 
“well, that's the reason i decided to move here,” now it is your turn to sigh, making ganyu have a confused look dancing across her face. “my partner and i got into an argument. he wouldn’t stop overworking himself, and i simply just wanted him to come to bed. but he’s so stubborn, and he took his work stress out on me. there was… certainly a lot of name calling.”
ganyus look of confusion immediately switches to an apologetic one. “ah, you made the right choice. that’s no way to treat your spouse.” 
you nod in agreement, before finishing your dish and pushing it slightly out in front of you. 
“well, i’m going to head back to my apartment now. this was very nice, we should do it again sometime!” you smile before standing and putting some money on the table. “here, this should be half. have a good night, ganyu!”
“goodnight to you too, y/n! i’ll see you soon.” 
now, back on alhaithams end..
he hasn’t been home in about a week and a half, due to his work causing his presence nearly 24/7. that pretty much means he hasn’t realized you’ve left yet. 
as he walks home, he doesn’t know how he would approach you. does he pretend the issue doesn’t exist? does he keep ignoring you? does he apologize? he thought his mind would split open.
as he walks through the door, he notices that the house is a little… emptier, from when the two of you lived together. he walked through the whole place, looking into the bathrooms to see your products gone. looking at the laundry room, met with no clothes that are yours hanging from the clothesline. and now, when he went to your bedroom…
your pillowcases have been stripped from the bed, and your pillow thrown into the closet. there were only a stack of two pillows, right in the middle of the bed. now his heart was thumping, and really hard. he looked through the dressers. the left side was barren, leaving only his side full. the thing that brought tears to the mans eyes was seeing your wedding ring on your side of the table. 
so you really left him. he stands there, shocked, unknowing of what to do. does he try to find you, or does he let you go? oh, how he regrets ever talking to you the way he did. if he just took your advice, you would be in bed, waiting for his arrival. likely bringing him into a hug, shaking all his worries and stress away as you whispered questions along about how his day was. 
the next few days felt like someone kept coming over to his desk and stabbing his back with blades like his. he felt so regretful, doing everything he can to stay composed while at the same time trying to find where you’ve gone. dehya won’t give him anything besides “somewhere close to sumeru that’s not sumeru.” that could mean you’ve gone to fontaine, liyue, or monstadt. how would he ever find you?
he’d ask the gaurds, and they all told him you went in the direction of the chasm. getting somewhere, but not close enough. he could walk all that way and come up empty handed. he doesn’t have an exact pinpoint on you yet. 
he’d ask nilou. she’d just shrug and say something along the lines of “i heard what happened, but i do not know fully where they went.” 
he walked the paths of the city, lost deep in thought. everyone thought it was a little out of character for someone such as him to look and feel as lost as he is. as much as people wondered what happened, they kept their mouths shut.
and for the people who noticed your absence, too, they’d ask different people who would likely have knowledge. but alhaitham didn’t know where to go now. he could walk the whole chasm and still not have you turn up. he could check every apartment complex in liyue harbor, and knock on every door on the outskirts. he could sail the seas to inazuma, and walk every separate island to see who may be housing you, or what commission you may have been taken in by. he could fall down the very waterfall that leads an entrance to the enchanting location called enkanomiya. he could go to fontaine, dive under the waters, walk every rocky mountain, and even visit the fortress of meropide. he could fight every monster near the city of monstadt, looking upon every rooftop for signs of your art, blown through the city of wind. but he still wouldn’t find you.
now what he doesn’t know is that you’re in liyue harbor, and nobody frets to tell him that anytime soon. for now, they’re just going to let him suffer, the same way he let you.
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tddyhyck · 2 months
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opinions on who in nct would allow another member to watch them fuck you
oh bestie OH BESTIE u know i love voyeurism/exhibitionism
i think mark would almost be too nervous like not about his member seeing you but about them judging his technique you know ,,, he would have to be drunk/high to let that happen,, but if it did happen he would be less nervous about it happening again he would be very “oh well they’ve already seen it once” he would be more of the toe to either let you fuck another member and he watches or to secretly fuck you and someone sees before he realizes they do
renjun would be hella confident in his stroke game ,, maybe he and hyuck are bickering about it and renjun is like babe i gotta show him something,,, and he just fucks you and he’s probably talking to hyuck more than you since they’re arguing ,, but to me that would be so hot 😵‍💫😵‍💫
jeno *shakes 8 ball* “highly unlikely” BUT BUT BUT,, i could see him doing this to prove a point like maybe someone was flirting with you or even called you hot to jeno’s face and he’s like wtf,,, so he has to show them you’re his very “see only i can make them feel like this so don’t ever flirt with them again” and he makes you tell his member you belong to him and not them 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫
my little pervert hyuck very much so yes,, he’d cum so fast ,,, it doesn’t matter who it is if someone is watching him it’s 10x hotter,, i think he would suggest it for sure he’s probably make a list and try to get every single member to watch at least once,,, gosh he’s so nasty i love him
mr. certified gentleman jaemin i’m so confused about him,, very 50/50 (miss those gorls) i don’t think he would be nervous but i can see him wanting to be private about what he does with you like that’s so special to him and he doesn’t want anyone to ever think of you in a sexual way like that’s his business // at the same time i can see him being into someone watching maybe he’d be more of like let’s film it and i’ll show them later,,, like in the moment he wants to focus on you but after he can show someone only if you want him to
oh oh chenle similar to jeno in the sense that he would do it to prove a point but not in a possessive way but in the renjun way of see i’m so good at fucking ,,, also can see him doing it out of dominance idk if this makes sense but he would get off on someone seeing how submissive you are for him,,, how he can get you to do anything and how humiliating it would be for you
jisung another nervous boy but he is a closeted certified freak,, so he would be down but try to play it cool,, maybe chenle is in the room egging him on like “that’s all you got” “how embarrassing” “i would have made them cum three time by now” and jisung would be red faced but also as hard as he has ever been
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teacasket · 1 year
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omg
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genre: fluff au: gamer au, streamer au warnings: none word count: 0.6k   pairing: gn!reader x lee felix song: omg by new jeans
THEY KEEP ON ASKING ME, “WHO IS HE?”
Chat won’t stop asking, despite how many times you try to steer the topic at hand to something else. Their opinions on your current Animal Crossing build? Ignored. If you should crochet a cardigan or bucket hat for your cat? Little to no responses. Lavender latte or milk tea for Drink of the Day? Lavender latte wins, but Chat immediately goes back to your hidden boyfriend.
This is what you get for forgetting to mute your mic. You had a whole phone call about dinner before realizing your mistake, and now everyone knows that wholesome, cozy Twitch streamer lightberry swears like a sailor when discussing pork katsu and calls a special someone “baby.” It’s been clipped already, you just know. At least you didn’t put him on speaker.
“‘100 subs if you tell us his name?’” you read. You'll indulge them because indulging Chat makes for good content. “I’ll tell you literally anything else.”
If you told them his name, you would end up trending on Twitter.
“‘Is he also a gamer?’ Yeah. Mostly League, Genshin, Apex. He’s been trying to get into Valorant. Now, 100 subs, please.”
Felix, otherwise known as LixInABox, is a gamer and streaming personality who has nearly a million subs on Twitch. He has a partner, an elusive figure exclusively referred to as “My Partner.” There are rumors that My Partner (MP) doesn’t actually exist and that they’re a cover for his singleness.
“‘20 subs if you tell us his rank?’ Sure. He's pretty high in everything. I can’t ever duo with him, except in Genshin.”
When he started streaming, he was primarily known for his League of Legends skills. Low Masters on a good day, Diamond 3 on the bad ones.
“‘Show us a picture.’ You know what, I’ll do that for free.”
Chat is not happy when you pull up a photo of Marshal from Animal Crossing. To be fair, he does resemble Felix a little.
While they continue to pester you about his identity, you continue terraforming your butterfly-shaped lake. When Marshal walks by with a sandwich, you make sure to point him out.
“There’s my boyfriend,” you say as you glance at the chat, which is scrolling by so quickly, your eyes can barely keep up.
IT’S LIX
MP MP MP MP
LIXBERRY
You’ve got a ship name already? How did they figure it out? Did Felix reach a million subs? He joked that he would reveal who MP was once he hit a million, and you sort of gave him the green light, but surely he would tell you beforehand? You sit motionless at your chair and try to come up with a solution that doesn’t involve straight up lying.
LIXBERRY LIXBERRY
MP IS REAL
HE’S LIVE
It doesn’t matter what you do. By doing nothing, you’ve confirmed it, so you go back to how it all started—you call Felix, live on stream. You leave your mic unmuted intentionally this time.
“Hey, what did you do?” are your first words. You have his stream up as well, so you see the blush on his face. “You’re live on mine, by the way.”
“I didn’t do anything! They figured it out! I mentioned that I was gonna have pork katsu for dinner, and like five minutes later, they connected it back to you. What did you do?”
“I forgot to mute during our call,” you admit. “And I also gave them hints in exchange for subs, but I didn’t think they were anything obvious.”
He looks at his chat and laughs. “You basically told them what I’m famous for. And a picture of Marshal? No wonder.”
“My bad. See you at dinner?”
He smiles, and you can’t help but do the same. “Yeah. Love you.”
“Love you, too, baby.”
Chat explodes. You and Felix will never live this down, but it feels better than you thought. And you really don’t want to admit it, but lixberry is really, really cute.
HE’S THE ONE THAT’S LIVING IN MY SYSTEM, BABY.
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seraphicalsuccubus · 8 days
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y’all I told my mom I’m a SWer with an OnlyFans and this bitch just said, ‘oh yeah, I know about that already’
and when I just looked at her blankly, she told me she just never said anything about it because she figured I would tell her when I was ready but she found out ages ago and said that: it’s entirely my choice to do it, it’s still technically a job and brings an income even if it’s not a widely accepted kinda job, I can probably make good money if I dedicate myself to it when my executive dysfunction isn’t ruining my life, and that as much as she doesn’t like it or want to see it, she still supports me and my decisions because I am an adult and it’s my own life.
Y’ALL WHEN I SAY I WAS FUCKIN FLOOOOORED ????????
I had to go for a walk around her yard and hit my dab rig a couple times before coming back to sit down and talk to her about it more just to process that she didn’t belittle me or disown me or act like I’m this filthy creature that doesn’t deserve any love or respect or whatever because of the horror stories I’ve seen from other creators with unsupportive parents and I made myself paranoid and convinced myself my mom was going to be, we’ll say, very opinionated. because she usually is. and I was worried it would be a negative opinion.
I feel so .. relieved, like a weight has been lifted, just because I told her MYSELF now so I don’t have to hide that I’m a SWer around immediate family or be ashamed of it if the rest find out and worry I’ll get cast out if the family for being one when it eventually came out from someone else in the family who found out about my pages. lol.
like. my mom knows and her sister knows and I think my mom said something about how she told her father so he’s aware too since he asked when I was gonna get another job and she said she was like ‘oh y’know, she does her …. OnlyFans thing …..’ kinda trying to gauge how he was going to respond and whether she’d have to defend me, and my grandfather was just like ‘huh, alright. well, good for her I guess,’ and left it at that. and honestly ??? like those are really the only people I really care about and want support from on my mom’s side aside from my sister and stepfather, because they’re the most influential to me, so like fuck it.
let the rest of the whole fuckin family know I do fucking porn lmfao I don’t give a FUCK now. mom’s got my back lmao, she’ll defend me at the least. 😌😌😌😌
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straykeedz · 8 months
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day 18: lee know + lactation kink
©straykeedz
tw: established relationship!au; pregnancy!au; reader feels insecure about her breasts; nipple play; female orgasm but sort of cumming untouched; this is pretty soft for a kinktober fic tbh; ♡
wc: 2,4k;
🔖 (open): @linos-kitten ; @luneskies ; @kxcies-blog ; @idunnomanmynamewastaken ; @cessixja ; @stolasisyourparent ; @kookiesbunny ; @xoxo-xoxo-bunny ; @ivyskzsworld ; @mal-lunar-28 ; @leetaste ; @sunnykynnie ; @channiesgoodgirl ; @seonghwatoothless ; @mrsminho ; @seungminluv3 ; @jin-from-the-block ; @aaasia111 ; @sulkygyu ; @whosanaanyway ; @y-ur--I ; @vixensss ; @nightimescapes ; @freckleboilix ; @dreamingaboutjisung ; @yourbeomiebear ; ♡
to make sure i add you to the taglist, your age must be clearly visible on your profile. also, empty blogs will not be added - add at least a profile picture to your blog so that i’ll know you’re not a bot. ♡
smut below the cut, minors dni.
☘︎
You let out a heavy sigh, not pleased with what you see reflected in the bedroom mirror. 
The problem is - your boobs are huge and heavy, definitely not sexy in your opinion, and you can’t fit them in any of your tops or even t-shirts by now. You’re perfectly aware that with pregnancy come changes - in your life, in your mind, in your body. Everything changes, and as you look at your reflection, you can’t pretend that it hasn’t affected you.
What makes things a hundred times worse is that you know Minho, your husband, loves your boobs the way they were. He’s told you when you first started dating and you’d confessed to him that you were insecure about having the size of your breasts - from that moment on, he practically started worshipping them, reminding you every chance he got of how perfect they are. “The perfect size for me”, he’d said while cupping them in his hands. 
And now they are… big, heavy, full, and definitely not the perfect size for Minho, you’re afraid. What if he won’t like your body once you’ve given birth to your child? What if he’ll stop being attracted to you?
“What are you doing?” Minho’s voice startles you, making your body jolt. “Sorry, love, I didn’t mean to startle you.”, he murmurs in your ear, wrapping his arms around your round belly and placing a kiss on your temple. 
You are now both reflected in the mirror - Minho enveloping you in a soft hug, one hand on your belly, gently caressing the baby bump as a wide smile spreads on his face. “You look so beautiful, my love.”
Those words make tears well up in your eyes almost instantly. Minho can see the shift of expression on your face in the mirror, so he gently turns your body around, concerned with your reaction. “Woah, what’s up, love? What’s wrong?”, he caresses your cheek with his fingers, brushing a lock of hair from your face.
That’s what it takes for you to break down, and before you could stop yourself - you’re already crying, sobbing even harder once he pulls you in for a tight hug as his soft hands caress your back. “It’s - it’s just…”, you stutter, incapable of stopping the tears. 
“Shh, it’s okay love, it’s okay.”, he soothes you, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. “Come here.”
Minho sits on the mattress of your shared bed with his spine against the headboard and spreads his legs. He pats down on the mattress, signaling for you to come sit between his legs. It’s something he’d always do whenever you’re feeling stressed or overwhelmed or just want to cuddle - it’s a cute habit you adore. You rest your back against his chest, and he places both of his hands on your round belly. 
“Calm down, love. It’s alright, everything’s fine.”, he tries to soothe you, but his attempt clearly fails as you cry even harder. 
“Nothing’s fine!”, you nearly shout, which takes Minho completely off guard as he stares at you with a shocked expression on his face. “Nothing’s fine, nothing’s okay. I’m fucking huge and ugly.”, you hiccup.
You can feel Minho’s body literally freeze, hands stopping their movements on your belly as his breath gets caught in his throat. “What?”, is all he manages to say, still too stunned to speak. How could you even think such an absurd thing, let alone say it out loud? 
You just nod, and he hears you sniffle, before you slightly turn your body so that you’re now facing him - eyes red and puffy. “It’s true.”, you mumble, drying your tears that are streaming down your cheeks with the back of your hand. “My boobs are huge, they don’t even fit in my clothes anymore. I hate them, and I know you don’t like them either, which -“
“Woah there…” Minho interrupts you, eyebrows furrowed and a perplexed look on his face. “What are you talking about?”, he asks, still pretty confused. So this was what was bothering you and making you cry? He can’t believe it. 
“I-…”, you stutter, not knowing exactly how to put your thoughts into coherent words. “I know you don’t like big boobs. I thought you wouldn’t… find me attractive like this.”, you try to explain. 
Minho has to physically contain himself from laughing out loud. He shakes his head instead, a mischievous grin on his face. “Oh, love…”, he whispers, his hands moving from your belly to the underside of your breasts. “Who told you I don’t like your boobs the way they are now? Who told you this bullshit?”, he asks you. 
“I-I…”, you stutter, not being able to come up with a proper answer. 
“Exactly, no one.” Minho shots back. “Because I love them.” 
“You do?”, you turn your head to meet his eyes - your own a bit glossy and red. God, Minho hates to see you cry, especially over something like this. He’d gladly spend the rest of his days showing you how much he loves and adores every single inch of your body. 
“Of course I do, love.”, he kisses you on the cheek, and at the same time his hands move from your round belly to your breasts, gently cupping them in his palms, caressing them over the layer of your t-shirt. The sensitivity makes a shiver run down your spine nonetheless. “Sensitive?”, he murmurs, fingers gently tracing the outline of your boobs and nipples. 
“So much.”, you sigh, relaxing in Minho’s embrace as his delicate touch relaxes you and makes you finally forget about your insecurities. 
The pads of his fingers circle the area around your nipples, and this time you can’t hold back a whimper as you arch your back - and he can feel them harden under his touch. “Do you want me to…”, he starts, placing two or three soft kisses on your cheek, “…show you…”, now your jawline, “…how much I love your tits?”, finally, your neck, making you shiver. 
You nod, and his hands find their way under your - his - oversized t-shirt and finally, you can feel his touch directly on your skin. Delicate, hesitant, scared to hurt you or to cause you any discomfort. He doesn’t know that he’s healing your wounds - he’s making you feel wanted, loved, cherished, and he’s making you forget what you were insecure about in the first place. 
“Can I touch them - properly?”, he whispers in your ear, his hair tickling your skin, 
You nod once again, and he cups your boobs using his hands - so big compared to yours. His hands are cold, and the sensation makes you squeak and then giggle. He’s gentle as he touches you, delicately groping your breasts, then brushing the pads of his thumb on each nipple. When his skin brushes yours, you let out a proper moan. Not a whimper, not a sigh - a moan. Your nipples have always been sensitive, but your pregnancy brought it on a whole different level, to the point that only a simple touch like this is arousing you. 
“Min.”, you whimper, hiding your face in the crook of his neck and closing your eyes as he continues to tease your sensitive nipples, now softly squeezing them between two of his fingers.  As he does so - he instantly feels something wet on the pads of his digits.
At first, he’s taken aback, so he repeats the action just to make sure he’s not just imagining it. But no, his fingers feel definitely wet. He immediately pulls one hand out to check, the other remains on your boob, although he stops squeezing your nipple. And he sees something whitish coating the pads of his digits. 
“Love, is this…?”, he’s speechless. 
“Oh, I forgot to tell you.”, you mumble, wrapping your fingers around his wrist, staring at his fingers as well. “I noticed earlier, when I was changing.” 
Right before your insecurities kicked in.
“Have you, uh… tasted it?” Minho swears he can feel his cheeks heat up as he asks you this question, somehow unable to tear his eyes off of his fingers. You shake your head as a no. “Do you… want to?” Okay, now he’s definitely blushing. 
“I, uh… I read online that it’s not properly milk. So it may taste weird.”, you explain. “But I’m kind of curious.”
He brings his fingers, coated in the whitish liquid, to your mouth. You give a small, kitten lick on his fingers, tasting the substance. It’s a flavor you’re not able to describe, different than everything you know. 
“How is it?” Minho asks, not able to hide the curiosity in the tone of his voice.
“It’s weird.”, you admit. 
“Can I… taste it, too?”
His question catches you off-guard, but in the end it only makes sense that he tries it too. So you hum in approval. “Sure.”
And then he brings the same fingers to his lips, licking off what remains of the liquid. He now gets what you meant - it does taste weird, but not necessarily in a negative way. 
“Can I see?”, he asks before he can stop himself. 
You don’t even have to ask him what is it that he wants to see, you just know. You nod, and you feel his fingers slide the t-shirt you’re wearing up your torso, revealing your beautiful breast and you use your hands to keep it in place. You can see him biting his lower lip at the sight of your naked breast, full and heavy. Then, he brings his fingers back on your nipple, and he squeeze it between the pads, watching fascinated and absolutely mesmerized the way a couple of droplets of that same whitish liquid drip from it. He brings his digits back to his lips to give it another taste, and then places them back on your nipple, repeating the very same motions for a couple of times more. 
“You taste so sweet, love.”, he murmurs in your ear, fingers squeezing your nipples delicately. “I’m not hurting you, am I?”
You shake your head as a no. “Nope, feels good.”, you smile at him. Somehow, his hands on your boobs seem to relax you, even though you struggled to change your shirt earlier due to the sensitivity. Minho must have magic hands. 
“It does?”, he sounds genuinely surprised. 
“Mh-hm.”, you hum. “It’s nice. I feel less sore.”
He stays quiet for a while, maybe a minute or two, and you just know he has something on his mind, you know your man. As predicted, after a while he speaks. “Love, can I try something?”, his voice is soft as he speaks, still massaging your breasts. You assent, because you know you can trust him. “Lie down on the bed, love. On your side.”, he instructs.
You’re kind of thankful he chose this position, because your back pain is killing you. He lies down next to you, facing you, and places a soft kiss on your lips before lifting your t-shirt once again, motioning for you to take it off completely. Once you do, he cups both of your breasts in his hand once again, and then you can feel him squirm and move, until his face is nearly pressed against your breast. 
You see him lick his lower lip before parting his lips, and he spares you a quick glance before attaching his mouth to your nipple. It’s not the first time he does it, of course, but it’s the first time since you’ve started lactating. However, you have to reiterate your previous statement - it’s somehow really helping you feel less sore. 
He gives one small, tentative suck, careful not to use teeth because he knows it hurts like a bitch, especially since you’re feeling extra sensitive, and you kick your head back, closing your eyes and breathing through your nose - as the sensation is overwhelming in the best way possible. His fingers are still on your other nipple, stimulating it with soft, gentle touches alternated with light squeezes. 
He hums against the skin of your chest, sucking delicately as the runny liquid drips into his mouth, and he gladly swallows it, swirling his tongue around your nipple to make sure to catch every single drop that falls from it. After a while, he pulls away to avoid overstimulating the zone, and moves to your other nipple, doing the same thing. He takes your nipple into your mouth and starts to suck gently. 
Inevitably, your hand ends up in his hair, entangling your fingers in his dark locks as you share such an intimate moment. 
The sensitivity of your nipples combined with the stimulation provided by Minho’s fingers and mouth causes the familiar sensation of your orgasm to build up in your lower abdomen unexpectedly. “Min-ho…”, you’re cut off by a choked sound that escapes your throat, and you tug at his hair a bit harder, making him whimper against your nipple. 
He knows how you sound like when you’re about to cum - it’s unmistakable, and judging by the way you’re pulling his hair and breathing through your nose, it seems you’re pretty close. Minho continues to lap at your nipple while playing with your other one, toying with it using his fingers - caressing it, flicking it, squeezing it and smearing the runny substance all over your skin until he feels your body tremble. 
“Min, Minho, baby… cumming…”, you chant, and he can feel you squeezing your thighs together to relieve the tension as your orgasm washes all over you. 
Minho hums satisfied against your skin before pulling away from your nipple when he feels you pull his hair a bit harder, swallowing your milk and wiping the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. Then, he runs his tongue all over the surface of your other nipple and boob to lick it clean. 
Finally, he places a soft kiss on your lips and pulls you closer to him until your bodies are pressed together and your face is in the crook of his neck. “You’re perfect, my love. Do you believe me now?”, he murmurs, running his fingers through your hair. You nod weakly, already feeling tired.
He helps you put your t-shirt back on, then cuddles up next to you, covering you up with a blanket, his hand on your belly. 
“Sleep tight, my loves.”
☘︎
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catboybiologist · 10 months
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Hi! I’m CatboyBiologist.
Formerly a femboy, now a trans woman just starting HRT, and a PhD student in molecular biology. I started using this online persona as a fun, shitposty way to explore gender a few years ago. I post selfies (generally sfw, but somewhat sexy, so minors and ppl who don’t like that have been warned), rambles about science, tutorials and advice from the stuff I’ve learned by being a femboy in the past, nature pictures, stuff about the ocean, my adorable grumpy little tortoise, and unsolicited opinions on random nerdy topics. Any pronouns are fine. I don’t plan to socially transition for a while, and still present as a man most of the time, so I’m used to whatever you wanna use for me (for now, I’ll update this if that changes). Please send me pictures of your pets or other cute animals in your life!
As a scientist, I’m also documenting my transition! This google sheet will be updated at least monthly. I also have additional metrics I’m keeping to myself, and pictures that go with this, but I’m not sharing them publicly yet. Keep in mind that this is just one person’s experience with HRT, and may not represent universal trends!
Adding a little something here, bc I think it was an interesting bit a writing: if you want to see me respond to a transphobe about what "biologically female" means, here's a thing I wrote about it. CW for transphobia and discussion, obviously.
Also, if any of my measurements look weird, its entirely possible I fucked up. Let me know if anything looks off!
Here’s some of my favorite pre-HRT pictures:
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If you want to see more of my pre-HRT selfies, browse the “femboy” tag on my blog!
And as of this writing, I’m only 2 days after the start of HRT, so here’s a picture with my tortoise that’s technically post-HRT (but with 0 time for actual changes):
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If you want to see my future post-HRT selfies, browse the “trans selfie” tag on my blog!
Also here's another really cute picture and fanart of my tortoise by @whalesharkcat:
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I have affectionately given my tortoise the title of The Grumpus.
I also wrote a couple of tutorials and general vibes about being a femboy before I started HRT:
Sometimes I make shitposts of myself, I don’t take myself too seriously:
This includes the way I came out on tumblr:
And here’s an overly serious, long ramble about trans thoughts and things that I wrote shortly afterwards:
Later addition: Someone asked how I take selfies, so I wrote a quick and dirty guide with some tips on how I do so in response to their ask:
Oh yeah and apparently I was a 196 microcelebrity? I never to thought I was popular enough for that but apparently some people do 🤷‍♀️. So uh, hi 196 tags, I'm abusing you for my pinned post LOL
As for terminology, I personally do think of myself as a “man who is becoming a woman” as opposed to having always been a woman. If that doesn’t resonate with your experience, I totally get that! But that’s why I freely call pre-HRT me a femboy, while still calling post-HRT me a trans woman. I’m also keeping the blog name as CatboyBiologist for the forseeable future, because at this point, Catboy just seems like a gender neutral term to me.
I’m also trying to put together a script for a podcast regarding how studying biology influenced my perspective on sex and gender- lmk if there’s any interest in that! It’s probably gonna be way too long and indulgent but oh well.
So uh. Yeah. I don’t end these types of things well. Byeeeeee
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sulieykte · 8 months
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𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒌𝒕𝒐𝒃𝒆𝒓 𝒅𝒂𝒚 𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒆 - 𝒂𝒄𝒄𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒂𝒍 𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒖𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏
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pairing: dilf!jake sully x avatar!reader a/n: this one got a little bit away from me, and ended up a lot more plotty than i intended. warnings: 18+ mdni, age difference, uneven power dynamic, hints at cheating, accidental stimulation. barely proofread word count: 1900+
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"Do I have a choice?"
"'Fraid not, kid." Jake said, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips at the glare you shoot him at your least favoured nickname. You hated being thought of as a kid, especially by him. As pathetic as it was, from the moment the hormones had kicked in, you'd held a torch for Jake and you can’t bear the thought that the man who so often visited your dreams thinks of you as a child. By the smirk that graces his annoyingly gorgeous face each time you protested, you had begun to suspect that it only egged him on.
You were younger than all other Avatar drivers, besides Spider, having got your Avatar at twenty-one, over two decades after the others. A much more exciting coming of age than the earth tradition of being allowed to drink. By human standards, you'd been an adult for several years, but you had still not passed that threshold by Na'vi standards. 
The subject of your iknimaya had been a source of many arguments within the clan, and you knew that Jake had done his best to protect you from it, but even his power had limits when faced with the outrage of several clan elders. You were proficient at riding Pa'li, and that had saved you for the first year, but the pressure only got worse after the move to high camp. 
It wasn't that you didn't want to, but your terror of heights had been discovered In your youth when at Lo'ak dragged you along with him and Spider to the Hallelujah Mountains and it took several hours and scratches to poor Norm's face to get you down. Norm had been insistent that you be sedated for the move to High Camp.
"Look, you’ve always wanted to be one of the people, and I know they haven't always been the most welcoming..." His face scrunches in discomfort at the thought, he had done his best to foster a good relationship between the Omatikaya and the humans that remained, but there was only so much he could do after the trauma your people had caused to the Na'vi. You couldn't blame them, but you and Spider, whose only crimes were being born here, had both faced the sting of that trauma many times. "But you see how they are with Spider, he's one of the people now. Don't you want that, kid?"
One of the people was stretching the truth a little in your opinion, but you did want that and you were well aware that your refusal to partake in their clan traditions didn't help matters for you. 
"Besides, what is there to be afraid of? You love Bob!"
"I do love Bob." You agreed, giving the Ikran a pat on the neck and receiving a nuzzle in return. You'd tried to make up for your lack of participation in clan traditions by helping out more around camp. That included caring for the Ikran, and you had grown quite fond of Jake's Ikran, and he you. You look up at Jake, your ears pressing back against your head in a performance that rivalled the many you’d given as a child to get Norm to let you leave Hell’s Gate unattended, looking for an ounce of sympathy that you might elicit from him in a last ditch effort to get out of it. "I also love not hurtling thousands of feet to my death."
You knew it was all over for you when the lines around his eyes became more pronounced and he burst into laughter. 
“Nice try, but if I let you get away with it any longer, people are gonna start thinking I’ve gone soft.” He climbs up onto Bob’s back and reaches out a hand to you. “Come on, you wouldn’t have me ruin my reputation for you, would you? It’s just one ride, I’ll ease you in.”
Defeated, you took his hand and allowed him to pull you up in front of him. You were grateful to be sat facing away from him, it would at least save you from the embarrassment when your body is overtaken by terror, and would disguise some of the blush that heated your cheeks at being in such close proximity to him. You were even more grateful that he’d called you to the edge of the camp under the cover of darkness, so any members of the clan who might spot you would hopefully miss the colour of your cheeks.
You knew your attempts to hide your crush on the Olo’eyktan were not as effective as you might wish. Spider never failed to let you know how obvious your bodily reactions were whenever you were in his proximity, teasing you endlessly for every blush or stutter of your words. Though Spider was sure that Jake was well aware of your infatuation, you were certain he didn’t. He was way too happy to have you around, only giving that devilishly handsome grin of his whenever you found yourself lost for words in his presence. 
“Good girl.” Your body stiffens to stop the shiver that threatens to run down your spine at the sound of his voice, so deep and so so close to your ear as he reaches around you for Bob’s kuru. “When was the last time you trimmed your nails?” He asks, a deep chuckle vibrating against your back at your mumbled ‘that was one time…’. “Okay, you ready?” No, you weren’t and the shake of your head didn’t stop him from guiding each of your hands to grab onto a kuru. “Mirrors. Signal. Manoeuvre.”
Before you can question what the hell that means, the ground disappears from below you and High Camp disappears from your view. You only realise that the sound piercing your eardrums was your own screams when your voice begins to crack, your throat sore from sustaining the sound for so long and his laughter breaks through the sound.
“You back with me, kid?” He has to raise his voice to be heard over the whipping of the wind against your ears, and as awareness of your surroundings returns to you, you see that he’s settled you into a steady glide now, little over the treelines of what used to be the Omatikaya’s home. You’re so focussed on being so close to the place you used to think of as home and the adrenaline rushing through your body, that has your blood pumping and your head spinning, it takes much longer than you’d have liked to realise the position you’ve put yourself in.
In the panic of the descent, you’d all but climbed into Jake’s lap. Leaving no space between your bodies, your tail wrapped so tightly around his calf that you were sure you were cutting off his blood supply and although you’re thankful that it’s no longer Bob you were holding onto when you see the half moon indents in his wrists.
“Oh shit– Fuck! I’m so sorry.” Your body temperature rises several degrees over what you’re certain is safe when the reality of your situation hits you and the dizziness is no longer from height. There’s no way you’re thinking clearly through the blood rush to your head, and either insanity or stupidity takes over you when you try to detangle yourself from Jake all at once, releasing your hold on his arms and leg as you attempt a half baked lunge towards Bob’s neck and away from further humiliation that only leads to you nearly falling head first off of the Ikran and towards your greatest fear. 
“Jesus- Kid!” A strong arm pulls you backward, saving you from hurtling off to certain death but putting you back into the situation you were trying to escape, his thick bicep holding you tight around the shoulders and pressing you into his body. “What the hell are you thinking?” His voice reverberates in your ear, anger or irritation, whatever the tone was it had you blinking back tears. 
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry!” The apologies flow out of you as the tears wish to, your attempts to wriggle out of his grasp in vain as he only pulled you closer, uttering soft words that you couldn’t hear through the blood rushing to your ears. Your hands reaching to pull at the arm that imprisoned you, every inch of your body moving in the attempt you escape his grasp and further mortification, your nails were much sharper in your Avatar body, but Jake was not as deterred by their assault as Norm had been. “Oh Eywa just let me fall, I’m never getting on one of these things again, you might as well give up–”
Your spine stiffens as he says your name, voice booming to interrupt your shrill rambling. 
“Fuck– stop moving.” He orders, and you realise he’s breathing heavily, his chest pushing against your back as it rises and falls in quick succession as if he’s trying to catch his breath. His bicep tenses, still pressing you securely into his body as he brings you below the treelines and your body relaxes as you see the ground approaching and the comfort of fresh earth below your feet and the omatikaya’s former settlement.
Your body jolts against Jake’s, the landing a little too rough in his rush to get you on solid ground. He grunts, like the wind has been knocked out of him and as quick as he is to break Tsaheylu, he isn’t so fast to let go of you.
“Jake?” You ask, peering over your shoulder as far as his grip would allow. Your body might have relaxed, but he appeared to have picked up all of the tension you’d lost. His eyes were squeezed shut, nostrils flaring in a sharp intake of breath.  Your heart drops, the last person to show understanding for you had finally lost his patience. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to freak like that. I’ll call Norm and get him to pull me out of the link so you can take my body back.” 
A hand stops you before you can reach your comm, a hand stops your wrist, and when you look around his eyes are open and there’s something in them that you’ve never seen before. No one has ever looked at you like this. Not in any body. Not with the hunger you see looking back at you. 
And then you feel it. Hard and thick against your lower back and you realise why he’d been desperate for you to stop moving. The heat that rises to your cheeks pools between your legs as you realise that you had done that to him, however unintentionally. It could’ve been just a natural reaction, something he couldn’t help, you had been grinding against him in your escape attempt and despite appearances, he was only human. 
But you couldn’t believe that. Not as you hold his gaze, neither of you able to look away. Not when he’s looking at you like he’s about to make the biggest mistake of his life, his arm dropping as he releases his hold on you, only for his hands to find your hips, his fingers gripping at your skin. The silence is deafening, only filled with both of your heavy breathing until he breaks it, voice rougher than you were used to.
“Damn, kid. You really are trying to ruin me, aren’t ya?”
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taglist: @pandoraslxna @teyamsatan @eyweveng @neteyamsoare @jakesullyfatjuicypeen @goodbird1 @avatarsslut @the-mourning-moon @blue-slxt @loaksulluyswife @multibishh @qweq-6802 @mylovescara @renaimel @xylianasblog @salamandraemcimadocaveirao @neteyamsyawntu
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chloe-skywalker · 2 years
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You Know Each Other? - Paul Lahote
Paul x Fem!reader
Emmet x friend reader
Warnings: Jealously?
Word count: 934
Summary: Paul getting extremely protective over his imprint the reader. When they meet up with the Cullens and it turns out Y/n and Emmet know eachother and are really close friends.
Arthors Note: I like putting Paul with a strong reader cause I think his imprint would have to be very strong and opinionated to be able to put up with him. Everyone puts him with these shy little wallflowers and I get that it's cute and he’d be protective and sweet but no one puts him with someone who would challenge him on occasions.
Masterlist
Twilight Masterlist
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“That last name sounds familiar.” Y/n wondered out loud as they were talking about their plans for tomorrow. The last name sounded familiar but she couldn’t place it.
“Cullen?” Paul questioned confused on how she would know that name. She hadn’t been in Forks long enough.
Y/n nodded. “Yeah. But I can’t place where from.”
“Hmmm.” Paul hummed but Y/n could tell what he was thinking.
“No, Paul.” Y/n turned her head to him as he readjusted himself on their couch.
“What?” Paul said playing innocent but he knew she knew.
“I know that look.” Y/n stated poking Paul in the chest.
“What look? I’m not doing a look.” Paul raised his hands up in mock surrender.
“Yes, you are and I’m going.” Y/n nodded and gave him a strict look with her eyes. She was going whether he liked it or not.
“Sometimes I hate how well you know me.” Paul growled out frustrated but he knew there was no stopping her.
^ ^ ^
“Just stay close to me. Please.” Paul pleaded to Y/n as they pulled up to the clearing where the pack and the Cullens were meeting up. Just to update each other on things and hang out, have some fun. Ever since they had to team up together things had been good between the two groups.
“I’ll do what I want when I want. You don’t own me.” Y/n turned to look at him as she spoke. “I love that you're protective of me but they're not going to hurt me so, chill. Please.”
“You’re lucky your my imprint.” he grumbled pulling her into his chest and kissing her. Not many people could talk to him like that and live.
“An that you love me.” Y/n smiled up at him goofy.
“Yeah, that too.” Paul nodded mirroring her smile before they kissed again.
“y/n?” Someone said and Y/n pulled away from Paul who had decided to tickle her upon hearing her name. Even the voice sounded familiar.
“Emmett?” Y/n looked over shocked to see him there.
“Well holy shit girl!” Emmett ran towards her and Y/n meet him in the middle. He picked her up in a big tight hug, spinning her around. Y/n could see Rosalie smiling over at them.
“Long time no see Em!” Y/n laughed happily, hugging him back tight as well.
“How’ve you been girly?” Emmett asked as he put her down with a smile on his face. It had been a year or two since they had seen each other.
“I’ve been great. What about you? If I knew you were one of the Cullen’s in town I would’ve tried to contact you earlier.” Y/n answered nodding, it was great getting to see him again. Y/n had met all the Cullen’s a few years back. She knew what they were and didn’t care, she had missed them. At least now she knew some people in town.
Y/n had met Paul out of Forks and came back with him to visit and so he could explain the imprint thing better. So she didn’t really know anyone in the town she had pretty much moved into.
“Been awesome and don’t worry about it. But hey do you live in town now?” he asked smiling, Emmett couldn’t help it he missed the girl he thought of as a sister.
Y/n nodded. “Yeah, now I do. I’m Lahote’s imprint.”
“Pauls imprint?” Emmett raised his eyebrows in shock.
“Yeah, that's right.” Paul said gruffly as he approached the two. It was no secret how Paul Emmett didn’t get along. An now his imprint seemed to be good friends with his enemy.
Y/n smacked Paul's shoulder. “Cool it.”
“Nah, he’s ok Y/n/n. Just protecting his girl. Even though I’m no threat.” Emmett shrugged off Paul's aggressive nature. He’d do the same thing. Whether it was Rosalie or even Y/n.
“Hmmm.” Paul hummed with a scowl on his face.
“We’re good friends Paul. Emmett’s like a brother to me.” Y/n stated with an eye roll directed to her boyfriend.
“Yeah, man. She’s like a little sister to me. I will tell you though, your a lucky man to have her.” Emmett said, it was honestly a compliment towards Paul but even Emmett had the sense to know Paul probably wouldn’t take it as one.
“Oh, he knows.” Y/n smiled over in Paul's direction next to her. She was joking but Paul knew it was true.
Emmett laughed. “I’m sure he does. But if you ever hurt her I will come after you. Got it?”
To say Paul was shocked, about multiple things would be an understatement. But he nodded to the vampires’ statement. “Yeah.”
With that Emmett left the new couple be and headed back over to Rosalie and Alice.
Y/n turned to face Paul, stepping closer to him. “I’m yours you can cool the hostility.”
Paul looked at her and sighed shaking his head. “I’m sorry.”
“I get your mortal enemies or whatever but he’s one of my bestest most close friends. Can you please just try? For me?” Y/n asked giving him her best puppy dog eyes she could.
Paul rolled his eyes but nodded none the less. He’d do anything for her, even try and be friends or at least sivial with Emmett Cullen. “For you.”
Y/n smiled placing her hands on his shoulder, using them as leverage to lean up and kiss him. She was truly grateful that he would try for her.
Tag:
@gruffle1
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marlynnofmany · 2 months
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Secondhand Solutions
Mur gave me a smug look, curling and uncurling one tentacle like a yo-yo. “Told you it was a waste of credits,” he said.
I sighed. “If those human ships were here, it wouldn’t be. This stuff is prime Earth nostalgia.” The small pile of items on the hoversled had seemed so full of promise when I’d bought it at our last stop: cat posters, harmonicas, and a dozen packs of googly eyes.
“Pity we’re far from Earth,” Mur said.
“Yeah,” I agreed, eyeing the locals of this alien marketplace. Lots of scales and exoskeletons. Not many hands that would appreciate the softness of a cat’s fur, and very few mouthparts that would be able to do much with a harmonica. The merchant I’d gotten the stuff from had been a Heatseeker all too happy to unload her stock of cut-rate human nonsense. These folks would likely have similar opinions. I said, “At least it doesn’t expire.”
Mur straightened the individually-boxed harmonicas. “And it shouldn’t take up too much space in your quarters until we meet up with more humans eventually. The captain won’t want to hang around here waiting for them to show up.”
“True,” I admitted. It was gossip from our last stop that had told me they’d be here now. I should have known better than to trust it.
“Well, back to the ship,” Mur announced. “Maybe you can cheer yourself up by decorating your quarters with eyeballs.”
I had to smile at that. “Maybe.” He was already walking back to where we’d parked, on the far side of an over-cultivated garden area. I towed the hoversled after him.
Then I caught sight of some locals who’d run afoul of multiple birdlike beasties, and an idea started to form.
The locals, a half-dozen Heatseekers whose scales ranged from red to pale yellow, were trying to eat a nice lunch at the dining section of the garden. The squawking bird-things, which were half-lizardy with speckled brown feathers and wide beaks, had apparently claimed the bushes for their own. They were contesting this claim by spitting at the Heatseekers every time their backs were turned. These looked like pretty gross spitballs, impressive for birds.
It occurred to me that I’d seen those feathery characters all over the place here. A look behind confirmed it; they lurked in nearly every tree I could see. And judging by the way the locals were abandoning this picnic table, they were a known hazard.
They still only spat at fleeing enemies, hiding or freezing in place when pinned by eye contact.
And that was my idea. “Hey Mur,” I said. “I’ll bet you one shanty sung on a table that I can sell some of these googly eyes right now.”
He stopped and looked around, full of skepticism. “To who?”
“Do you take the bet?”
“Ah, sure. There’s no way anyone here is interested.”
“You say that now,” I said, grabbing a pack and waving down one of the hurrying locals. “But you don’t know how we deal with tigers and magpies.”
“With what?”
I didn’t answer, busy as I was explaining to the local that the false eyes were adhesive, and would give the impression of eye contact from both directions. They were just as interested as I’d thought they’d be.
After a demonstration, during which I strolled through the picnic area and didn’t get a single spitball on me, the birds were unsettled and the locals were more than happy to buy everything I had.
This was a new colony town, you see, and no one had come up with a good solution for the annoying fauna that came with the territory. But these folks were prepared to make everyone’s day.
They certainly made mine. That was five times as much as I’d paid for the stuff in the first place. And they didn’t even want the posters and harmonicas.
I waved goodbye, but they weren’t paying attention, so I turned my grin on Mur instead. He had draped a tentacle around his pointy squid head in exasperation.
“I knew I shouldn’t have taken the bet,” he declared. “But I was so sure it was pointless.”
“And I am sure that whichever song you choose to regale us with at dinnertime will be delightful,” I said, tugging the hovercart around the bushes. The birds watched me carefully, noting the eyes still stuck to my hair, and leaving us both alone. “If it’s a song I know, maybe I can play a backup melody with a harmonica.”
~~~
The ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book. More to come! And I am currently drafting a sequel!
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