#testicle issues

[descimatedpiggydreams]

it’s interrogation you ask for? *cracks my knuckles, purple orbs shining with determination* It’s interrogation you shall receive!!!

Why did miss piggy leave you?

What is this rough patch you mention?

Where is she now?

Do you eat pork?

Do you wear felt?

What are your opinions on number four?

thoughts on gonzo batman?

smash or pass Denise? (I mean she is a muppet pig who is an ex of Kermit 👀)

preferred weapon and or dark magic spell of choice?

body count (in the murder sense ofc)

that’s it *blushes and twirls hair cutely)* If um if you’d like to answer of course hey 👉👈

Do you have a preferred weapon of choice?

none of your fucking buissness, dickwad. and she didnt fucking leave me!!!!! shes going through a tough time, ok???? have some respect....

once again, NONE OF YOUR BEEZ WAX!!!! sigh...

I DONT FUCKING KNOW OK??? I THINK SHE SAID SOMETHING ABOUT HTE OLD FUCKNG APARTMENT BUT THAT CANT BE RIGHT I DONT KNOW!!!

no of course I dont. I am vegatarian. but more.

no.

did not respond to me. I am hurt. also, they seem kinda crazy tbh.

cowardly and pedestrian, but cute in the silent and somewhat sane way.

hello, Denise @descimatedcroakernightmares.... PASS. I am LOYAL!!!! (not here kitten whiskers, daddy will discuss it later...) ((written in green since ahem, my lovely but somewhat possessive wife is colourblind and also refuses to read anything in green due to YOU KNOW WHO.))

testiculour torsion. also works on ovaries. that, and my words. which are my weapons.bec cause im Edgar Allen poes great nephew.

69 and 2. you can figure out which is in which sense.

yes, aside form those listed in 9, I also enjoy hot wax and acrylics.

[insipid-drivel]

Horses: Since There Seems To Be A Knowledge Gap

I'm going to go ahead and preface this with: I comment pretty regularly on clips and photos featuring horses and horseback riding, often answering questions or providing explanations for how or why certain things are done. I was a stable hand and barrel racer growing up, and during my 11 year tenure on tumblr, Professional Horse Commentary is a very niche, yet very necessary, subject that needs filling. Here are some of the literary and creative gaps I've noticed in well meaning (and very good!) creators trying to portray horses and riding realistically that... well, most of you don't seem to even be aware of, because you wouldn't know unless you worked with horses directly!

Some Of The Most Common Horse + Riding Mistakes I See:

-Anybody can ride any horse if you hold on tight enough/have ridden once before.

Nope. No, no, no, no, aaaaaaaand, no. Horseback riding has, historically, been treated as a life skill taught from surprisingly young ages. It wasn't unusual in the pre-vehicular eras to start teaching children as young as 4 to begin to ride, because horses don't come with airbags, and every horse is different. For most adults, it can take months or years of regular lessons to learn to ride well in the saddle, and that's just riding; not working or practicing a sport.

Furthermore, horses often reject riders they don't know. Unless a horse has been trained like a teaching horse, which is taught to tolerate riders of all skill and experience levels, it will take extreme issue with having some random person try to climb on their back. Royalty, nobility, and the knighted classes are commonly associated with the "having a favorite special horse" trope, because it's true! Just like you can have a particularly special bond with a pet or service animal that verges on parental, the same can apply with horses. Happy horses love their owners/riders, and will straight-up do their best to murder anyone that tries to ride them without permission.

-Horses are stupid/have no personality.

There isn't a more dangerous assumption to make than assuming a horse is stupid. Every horse has a unique personality, with traits that can be consistent between breeds (again, like cat and dog breeds often have distinct behavior traits associated with them), but those traits manifest differently from animal to animal.

My mother had an Arabian horse, Zipper, that hated being kicked as a signal to gallop. One day, her mom and stepdad had a particularly unpleasant visitor; an older gentleman that insisted on riding Zipper, but refused to listen to my mother's warnings never to kick him. "Kicking" constitutes hitting the horse's side(s) with your heels, whether you have spurs on or not. Most horses only need a gentle squeeze to know what you want them to do.

Anyway, Zipper made eye-contact with my mom, asking for permission. He understood what she meant when she nodded at him. He proceeded to give this asshole of a rider road rash on the side of the paddock fence and sent him to the emergency room. He wouldn't have done it if he didn't have the permission from the rider he respected, and was intelligent enough to ask, "mind if I teach this guy a lesson?" with his eyes, and understand, "Go for it, buddy," from my mom in return.

-Riding bareback is possible to do if you hold onto the horse's mane really tight.

Riding a horse bareback (with no saddle, stirrups, or traditional harness around the horse's head) is unbelievably difficult to learn, particularly have testicles and value keeping them. Even professional riders and equestrians find ourselves relying on tack (the stuff you put on a horse to ride it) to stay stable on our horses, even if we've been riding that particular horse for years and have a very positive, trusting relationship.

Horses sweat like people do. The more they run, the more their hair saturates with sweat and makes staying seated on them slippery. Hell, an overworked horse can sweat so heavily that the saddle slips off its back. It's also essential to brush and bathe a horse before it's ridden in order to keep it healthier, so their hair is often quite slick from either being very clean or very damp. In order to ride like that, you have to develop the ability to synchronize your entire body's rhythm's with the rhythm of the horse's body beneath you, and quite literally move as one. Without stirrups, most people can't do it, and some people can never master bareback riding no matter how many years they spend trying to learn.

-You can be distracted and make casual conversation while a horse is standing untethered in the middle of a barn or field.

At every barn I've ever worked at, it's been standard practice with every single horse, regardless of age or temperament, to secure their heads while they're being tacked up or tacked down. The secures for doing this are simple ropes with clips that are designed to attach to the horse's halter (the headwear for a horse that isn't being ridden; they have no bit that goes in the horse's mouth, and no reins for a rider to hold) on metal O rings on either side of the horse's head. This is not distressing to the horse, because we give them plenty of slack to turn their heads and look around comfortably.

The problem with trying to tack up an unrestrained horse while chatting with fellow stable hands or riders is that horses know when you're distracted! And they often try to get away with stuff when they know you're not looking! In a barn, a horse often knows where the food is stored, and will often try to tiptoe off to sneak into the feed room.

Horses that get into the feed room are often at a high risk of dying. While extremely intelligent, they don't have the ability to throw up, and they don't have the ability to tell that their stomach is full and should stop eating. Allowing a horse into a feed/grain room WILL allow it to eat itself to death.

Other common woes stable hands and riders deal with when trying to handle a horse with an unrestrained head is getting bitten! Horses express affection between members of their own herd, and those they consider friends and family, through nibbling and surprisingly rough biting. It's not called "horseplay" for nothing, because during my years working with horses out in the pasture, it wasn't uncommon at all for me to find individuals with bloody bite marks on their withers (that high part on the middle of the back of their shoulders most people instinctively reach for when they try to get up), and on their backsides. I've been love-bitten by horses before, and while flattering, they hurt like hell on fleshy human skin.

So, for the safety of the horse, and everybody else, always make a show of somehow controlling the animal's head when hands-on and on the ground with them.

-Big Horse = War Horse

Startlingly, the opposite is usually the case! Draft and carriage horses, like Percherons and Friesians, were never meant to be used in warfare. Draft horses are usually bred to be extremely even-tempered, hard to spook, and trustworthy around small children and animals. Historically, they're the tractors of the farm if you could afford to upgrade from oxen, and were never built to be fast or agile in a battlefield situation.

More importantly, just because a horse is imposing and huge doesn't make it a good candidate for carrying heavy weights. A real thing that I had to be part of enforcing when I worked at a teaching ranch was a weight limit. Yeah, it felt shitty to tell people they couldn't ride because we didn't have any horses strong enough to carry them due to their weight, but it's a matter of the animal's safety. A big/tall/chonky horse is more likely to be built to pull heavy loads, but not carry them flat on their spines. Horses' muscular power is predominantly in their ability to run and pull things, and too heavy a rider can literally break a horse's spine and force us to euthanize it.

Some of the best war horses out there are from the "hot blood" family. Hot blooded horses are often from dry, hot, arid climates, are very small and slight (such as Arabian horses), and are notoriously fickle and flighty. They're also a lot more likely to paw/bite/kick when spooked, and have even sometimes been historically trained to fight alongside their rider if their rider is dismounted in combat; kicking and rearing to keep other soldiers at a distance.

-Any horse can be ridden if it likes you enough.

Just like it can take a lifetime to learn to ride easily, it can take a lifetime of training for a horse to comfortably take to being ridden or taking part in a job, like pulling a carriage. Much like service animals, horses are typically trained from extremely young ages to be reared into the job that's given to them, and an adult horse with no experience carrying a rider is going to be just as scared as a rider who's never actually ridden a horse.

Just as well, the process of tacking up a horse isn't always the most comfortable experience for the horse. To keep the saddle centered on the horse's back when moving at rough or fast paces, it's essential to tighten the belly strap (cinch) of the saddle as tightly as possible around the horse's belly. For the horse, it's like wearing a tight corset, chafes, and even leaves indents in their skin afterward that they love having rinsed with water and scratched. Some horses will learn to inflate their bellies while you're tightening the cinch so you can't get it as tight as it needs to be, and then exhale when they think you're done tightening it.

When you're working with a horse wearing a bridle, especially one with a bit, it can be a shocking sensory experience to a horse that's never used a bit before. While they lack a set of teeth naturally, so the bit doesn't actually hurt them, imagine having a metal rod shoved in your mouth horizontally! Unless you understand why it's important for the person you care about not dying, you'd be pretty pissed about having to keep it in there!

-Horseback riding isn't exercise.

If you're not using every muscle in your body to ride with, you're not doing it right.

Riding requires every ounce of muscle control you have in your entire body - although this doesn't mean it wasn't realistic for people with fat bodies to stay their weight while also being avid riders; it doesn't mean the muscles aren't there. To stay on the horse, you need to learn how it feels when it moves at different gaits (walk, trot, canter, gallop), how to instruct it to switch leads (dominant legs; essential for precise turning and ease of communication between you and the horse), and not falling off. While good riders look like they're barely moving at all, that's only because they're good riders. They know how to move so seamlessly with the horse, feeling their movements like their own, that they can compensate with their legs and waists to not bounce out of the saddle altogether or slide off to one side. I guarantee if you ride a horse longer than 30 minutes for the first time, your legs alone will barely work and feel like rubber.

-Horses aren't affectionate.

Horses are extraordinarily affectionate toward the right people. As prey animals, they're usually wary of people they don't know, or have only recently met. They also - again, like service animals - have a "work mode" and a "casual mode" depending upon what they're doing at the time. Horses will give kisses like puppies, wiggle their upper lips on your hair/arms to groom you, lean into neck-hugs, and even cuddle in their pasture or stall if it's time to nap and you join them by leaning against their sides. If they see you coming up from afar and are excited to see you, they'll whinny and squeal while galloping to meet you at the gate. They'll deliberately swat you with their tails to tease you, and will often follow you around the pasture if they're allowed to regardless of what you're up to.

-Riding crops are cruel.

Only cruel people use riding crops to hurt their horses. Spurs? I personally object to, because any horse that knows you well doesn't need something sharp jabbing them in the side for emphasis when you're trying to tell them where you want them to go. Crops? Are genuinely harmless tools used for signalling a horse.

I mean, think about it. Why would crops be inherently cruel instruments if you need to trust a horse not to be afraid of you and throw you off when you're riding it?

Crops are best used just to lightly tap on the left or right flank of the horse, and aren't universally used with all forms of riding. You'll mainly see crops used with English riding, and they're just tools for communicating with the horse without needing to speak.

-There's only one way to ride a horse.

Not. At. All. At most teaching ranches, you'll get two options: Western, or English, because they tend to be the most popular for shows and also the most common to find equipment for. English riding uses a thinner, smaller saddle, narrower stirrups, and much thinner bridles. I, personally, didn't like English style riding because I never felt very stable in such a thin saddle with such small stirrups, and didn't start learning until my mid teens. English style riding tends to focus more on your posture and deportment in the saddle, and your ability to show off your stability and apparent immovability on the horse. It was generally just a bit too stiff and formal for me.

Western style riding utilizes heavier bridles, bigger saddles (with the iconic horn on the front), and broader stirrups. Like its name may suggest, Western riding is more about figuring out how to be steady in the saddle while going fast and being mobile with your upper body. Western style riding is generally the style preferred for working-type shows, such as horseback archery, gunning, barrel racing, and even rodeo riding.

-Wealthy horse owners have no relationship with their horses.

This is loosely untrue, but I've seen cases where it is. Basically, horses need to feel like they're working for someone that matters to them in order to behave well with a rider and not get impatient or bored. While it's common for people to board horses at off-property ranches (boarding ranches) for cost and space purposes, it's been historically the truth that having help is usually necessary with horses at some point. What matters is who spends the most time with the animal treating it like a living being, rather than a mode of transport or a tool. There's no harm in stable hands handling the daily upkeep; hay bales and water buckets are heavy, and we're there to profit off the labor you don't want or have the time to do. You get up early to go to work; we get up early to look after your horses. Good owners/boarders visit often and spend as much of their spare time as they can with spending quality work and playtime with their horses. Otherwise, the horses look to the stable hands for emotional support and care.

So, maybe you're writing a knight that doesn't really care much for looking after his horse, but his squire is really dedicated to keeping up with it? There's a better chance of the horse having a more affectionate relationship with the squire thanks to the time the squire spends on looking after it, while the horse is more likely to tolerate the knight that owns it as being a source of discipline if it misbehaves. That doesn't mean the knight is its favorite person. When it comes to horses, their love must be earned, and you can only earn it by spending time with them hands-on.

-Horses can graze anywhere without concern.

This is a mistake that results in a lot of premature deaths! A big part of the cost of owning a horse - even before you buy one - is having the property that will be its pasture assessed for poisonous plants, and having those plants removed from being within the animal's reach. This is an essential part of farm upkeep every year, because horses really can't tell what's toxic and what isn't. One of the reasons it's essential to secure a horse when you aren't riding it is to ensure it only has a very limited range to graze on, and it's your responsibility as the owner/rider to know how to identify dangerous plants and keep your horses away from them.

There's probably more. AMA in my askbox if you have any questions, but that's all for now. Happy writing.

[actuallysaiyan]

Just What I Needed(Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader)

warnings: handjob, ball/testicle play, softness, fluff, Nanami is a bit of a sub here, gentle loving word count: 1k pairings: Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader summary: it's been a long week for Kento, so you surprise him with a handjob in the bath. a/n: The artwork of Nanami in the onsen isn't mine, I couldn't find the proper credits! If someone knows who made this lovely pic of Kento, plz lemme know so I can properly credit them!!! Dividers by the lovely benkeibear!

Taglist: @beneathstarryskies @an-ever-angry-bi @seireiteihellbutterfly @namikyento @benkeibear

@kenpachisbrat @adharadotcom @heyitsd1yaa @darkstarlight82

Kento feels the weight on his shoulders. It’s been a very long day at work on top of a very long week. Everything that could go wrong ended up being catastrophic. He found himself in all kinds of problems and issues. Gojo had often leaned on him for a lot of things this week as well, and Itadori-kun had been eager to learn so many new things.

So by this point in Nanami’s week, he is quite exhausted. The only thing he’s looking forward to is spending the evening with you. That thought alone is what keeps him going. He takes the train home, wishing to be close to you as soon as possible. His mind is filled with thoughts of greeting you at the door, covering your face in kisses and hugging you tight.

The minute he walks through the door, he’s bombarded with soft kisses from you. His heart flutters at the familiar scent of your perfume, the way your lips seem to soothe his weary soul.

“Welcome home, Ken!” You cheerfully greet him.

His tired eyes meet yours and he feels himself coming back to life. “Good to see you, darling.”

You gently help him out of his jacket, smoothing out the wrinkles before hanging it up on the peg at the door. Then he removes his shoes, slipping on the comfortable and well-worn house slippers. You lead him towards the bathroom, and this surprises him. He smiles and lets out a contented sigh when he notices the tub all prepared for him.

“I know you had a really rough week,” you explain as you help him out of his blazer. “I wanted to spoil you tonight. I’ve even prepared your favorite meal, it’ll be ready after your bath.”

Nanami swears he’s gone to heaven. He allows you to undress him, and he watches in awe as you make sure to properly fold all his clothing. Then you start kissing him, your soft hands caressing him all over. You’ve always made him feel weak in the best way possible.

Then once he’s completely undressed, you help him into the bath. You sit on a stool next to the tub, grabbing a soft cotton washcloth. Nanami sighs as the warm water and bubbles are already soothing him. His sore muscles begin to loosen as the water does its magic.

“Feeling a little better?”

Kento looks over at you, smiling shyly. “I am. You always know how to spoil me.”

You take your time washing and cleaning him. You use your fancy body wash, the one that smells like sandalwood, jasmine and vanilla. It invades his senses, making him feel so secure and safe in this bath. He doesn’t remember the last time he even allowed himself to feel comforted like this.

“You’re so precious to me, Ken.” You press a kiss to his temple as your hand wanders further down his body. “I need to make sure you’re well taken care of.”

He gasps the minute you caress his thighs. He feels his cock twitching to life. His amber eyes fill with softness and lust as you begin to gently begin to wash his dick. You smirk softly, letting out a girlish giggle.

“Does my sweetheart need a little TLC?” You tease him, but you’re already wrapping your fingers around his throbbing length.

“P-please, darling. Please don’t tease me,”

You lean over and begin to kiss him. He’s moaning as your hand strokes him slowly. The way you squeeze the tip gently every time your hand goes up, makes him shudder. Shivers run down his spine from the exquisite pleasure. He arches his back, desperate to feel even more pleasure.

The soap coats your hand so perfectly, giving it the most sensual glide. The bubbles cover his body, making him feel like he’s enveloped in the most cozy and warm hug. Then your other hand joins the other. First you stimulate the tip, making him moan. Precum dribbles from the slit, making things even more slippery. Then you drift down to his heavy balls that are just begging for attention.

“Poor sweetheart, you’re all pent up.”

Kento all but sobs the minute you begin to massage his balls. His cock twitches a few more times in your hand, reminding you of your first task. Slowly, you continue to stroke him. Kento lets out such cute moans and whimpers for you.

Your fingers tighten ever so slightly, and you speed up just a little more. His hips begin to buck up into your touch, begging and pleading with you not to stop. His cheeks and the top of his ears are flush and pink, his eyes are half-lidded and pupils blown with lust.

“You wanna cum?” you ask him, leaning in to kiss his lips.

“Please baby. Please please please,”

You continue to kiss him, your tongue gliding against his bottom lip. He parts his lips, groaning as your tongues touch. You don’t falter in your rhythm. It’s so perfect right now.

“Such a good man, you work so hard. You deserve some spoiling.”

Kento whines, “I’m—fuck, I’m close.”

You don’t slow down. You ever so gently tug on his balls, massaging them. Kento’s whines reverberate against the walls, and they grow in decibels as he gets closer and closer. You kiss him hungrily once more, praising him for being such a good boy for you. The minute you nip at his bottom lip, that’s all it takes for him to cum hard.

“Fuck! I’m cumming!” His eyes roll back in his head and his hips jerk with every spurt of hot cum.

Ropes of his seed begin to coat your hand. You feel every throb and jerk, and you even get to feel his balls draw up. You stroke him to completion, kissing him softly. You slowly pull away, giving him a few moments to breathe and relax before you wash him once more.

“You always know just how to make me feel better,” Kento says, smiling shyly at you.

“It’s because I adore you.”

[jaeyunverse]

the 24-hour dating challenge

pairing: park sunghoon x fem!reader

genres: fluff, crack, mutual pining, suggestive, best friends to lovers, influencer au

wc: 8145

warnings: profanity, hoon is a loser and down bad sawry, you can’t see the mutual pining but that’s a skill issue on my part bc i swear it’s there, fic is completely from sunghoon’s pov, this was supposed to be short and sweet but it got kinda spicy towards the end LMAOAO but nothing happens so dw!!

summary: being a famous youtuber isn’t easy, especially when you have to constantly come up with new ideas to keep your audience entertained. and this time, your viewers want you to date park sunghoon, your best friend of nearly a decade, for the entirety of 24 hours.

moodboard: one ☆ two

note: omg i didn’t think i would struggle w this oneshot but i lowkey did w the last part ☹️ i think it’s bc it has been a while since i raw dogged a fic HAHDHS anyway i hope the end doesn’t seem super abrupt and y’all enjoy! i would love to hear your thoughts + feedback :’)

inspiration: evelyn and fred (♡)

masterlist

“Your followers want me to do what?” 

Sunghoon was positive he’d misheard you. However, part of him hoped you’d confirm the life-altering information you’d casually uttered without even bothering to look away from the TV screen.

“Hoon!” you exclaimed, your fingers aggressively moving about the gaming console. “Oh, my God, they’re coming after me! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK—” you screeched— “Nonononono I can’t take them by myself! You testicle-guzzling cocksucker, why did you die when I needed you the most?!” 

Sunghoon watched you struggle warily. Your leg was bouncing with anxiety and your eyes were bulging out of their sockets. He wasn’t entirely sure you were breathing. Beads of sweat were clinging to your forehead, and your face was scrunched up in a weird, constipated expression. 

There was a good chance you’d utter fouler insults if he disturbed you while playing, but he couldn’t stop himself from broaching the subject. “Are we just going to pretend you didn’t say the thing you just said?” 

“The thing about you being a testicle-guzzling cocksucker?” you gritted. “No.”

Sunghoon rolled his eyes. “The thing about your followers wanting us to date for a video.” 

For a few moments, you didn’t deign to acknowledge him. Then, as if a switch inside you had flipped, you pulled the TV’s plug and turned to face him. “Would it be weird?” 

Wow. Okay, Sunghoon mused. I think it would be a fantastic idea and a dream come true, but I don’t trust myself around you. Even as a mere friend.  

However, instead of voicing his thoughts, the boy simply shrugged. “I don’t know. We’ve been friends for several years now. I’m a regular on your YouTube channel and I think your fans are aware of the dynamics of our relationship. What do they mean when they say they want us to date? Physical intimacy aside, we already do everything couples do.” 

“I think they want us to be romantic,” you admitted. “Go on a date, hold hands, cross some lines.”

“Cross some lines?” Sunghoon raised an eyebrow, the corner of his lip curling in a smirk. “Is this you speaking or your subscribers?”

Groaning in exasperation, you shoved his shoulder. He fell back on the couch, laughing. “Shut up, dickface! You know I’ve been swamped this semester. My influencer gig has been seriously lacking. I need to step up—do what they want me to do. Besides, we only have to be girlfriend and boyfriend for 24 hours. It’s really not that big a deal. Are you in or not?”

Sunghoon took a few seconds to mull over your words. Sure, he would love to be your boyfriend for 24 hours. As long as his fantasies were brought to reality, he didn’t care if the whole relationship was fake and short-lived. 

For far too long, he’d pined after you. He thought he was doing an excellent job at hiding his feelings, but then you decided to make vlogs for fun. That’s when shit actually went downhill. 

Within a few years, you’d amassed a following of over 5 million on YouTube and 3 million on Instagram. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say you’d become somewhat of a local celebrity.  

Being one of your closest friends, Sunghoon was often featured in your videos. Initially, he’d baulked at the idea of being filmed, but you’d worked your magic on him. The boy soon found himself being comfortable around cameras. 

Even though Sunghoon never started his own YouTube channel, his popularity grew along with yours. His Instagram had garnered over two million followers, and courtesy of his good looks and attractive physique, he’d been offered a bunch of brand deals too.

You’d scowled at how far Sunghoon’s pretty privilege had gotten him. While you busted your ass coming up with unique ideas and editing your videos to perfection, all he needed to do was show up. 

What you didn’t know, though, was that part of the reason he’d become a heartthrob among the youth was you. 

You might have been dumb and blind, but your followers certainly were not. They’d realised how Sunghoon looked at you—his eyes always twinkled and a fond smile automatically adorned his lips whenever he caught sight of you. 

To add to that, your fans had pointed out habits he didn’t even know he possessed. For example: idly braiding your strands; bringing you snacks whenever he swung by your apartment; saying hey, sunshine and giving you a side hug by way of greeting; disguising his compliments as insults. 

The list was embarrassingly long.

They’d noticed the elastic he kept around his wrist at all times too—it was one of the two you’d used to tie his hair into little ponytails because you were convinced you could transform him into Boo from Monsters, Inc.   

Sunghoon himself had forgotten the reason he wore the elastic around his wrist. All he knew was that it was yours and it felt right. But when he read the comments obsessing about it, he rushed to watch the video your fans were referring to. 

And damn, they were right. 

Sunghoon didn’t know if you’d seen the comments your fans regularly left on your various social media pages. You’d never mentioned anything about the community calling you “couple goals,” and he was too much of a coward to inquire if you were aware. 

It was infuriating to know how transparent he was. Sunghoon wished he’d never gotten used to the camera and let slip his true self. 

Perhaps this was the cost of gaining the boyfriend material label—his unrequited feelings exposed for the entire world to see. 

Sunghoon would never admit it, but he’d spent the better part of a day reporting everyone who’d shipped him with you. The entire incident had truly made him go off the rails. 

However, today’s revelation was unexpected. It was an opportunity. A chance to experience something he’d desired for many years. Suddenly, he found himself thanking those busybodies online instead of cussing them out for being ridiculously invested in his love life.

Sunghoon knew saying yes to your proposition would bite him in the ass later on. He knew he’d crave more of you once he got a taste of being your boyfriend, and giving this fake relationship a shot would definitely make it harder for him to get over you in the future. He knew he was a massive idiot for willingly indulging in impending heartbreak, but he could always cross that bridge when he came to it.  

“Okay,” he said, meeting your gaze. “I’m in.”

There was a small chance Sunghoon was getting ahead of himself. Maybe he shouldn’t have taken it upon himself to organise the perfect date. 

Being bitchless his entire life wasn’t doing him any favours in performing the task. Originally, he’d figured he would do a quick Google search and plan a day according to the results shown.

Unfortunately, most activities on the list were things the two of you already did on a normal basis. He’d racked his brain to think of a unique idea after scrolling through the internet for hours on end and coming up empty-handed. 

Karaoke? Check. Restaurant hopping? Psh, you did that every weekend. Rock climbing? He was scared of heights. Bowling? Boring. Concert? None of your favourite artists were in town. Clubbing? He would rather spend quality time with you than get both of you wasted. Arcade? Basic and low-budget; he didn’t want to be cheap. Road-trip? Needed more than just 24 hours.

Sunghoon wondered if he was the problem. He’d shot down every option he’d come across so far by classifying it as not good enough. His stress levels were skyrocketing trying to make your 24-hour relationship perfect.

An entire day’s research had ended up being fruitless. You’d decided to go through with the challenge on Sunday, so he only had tomorrow to come up with something satisfactory. 

Sighing, Sunghoon rubbed his eyes and closed his laptop. He eyed his phone on the bedside table for a few seconds, contemplating whether he should just call you and ask if you had anything in mind. 

Before he could rethink his choice, he picked up the device and dialled you. 

“Hey.” Your voice on the other end was deep and hoarse. A glance at the wall clock informed Sunghoon it was past midnight, and he’d likely woken you up. Guilt twisted his stomach. “Is something wrong?”

“Sorry, I didn’t realise it was late,” he mumbled. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Nah, it’s alright. I was watching a movie and passed out halfway through it. I needed to finish it anyway.” 

Lying back on his bed, Sunghoon inquired, “Ready or not?”

“Yeah.” You huffed a laugh. “I finally got around to seeing it. Your choice, as always, is impeccable.” 

Though you couldn’t see him, he raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t you just say you dozed off in the middle of it?” 

“Well, yeah, but that’s because I’m not a stupid nocturnal with no care for their sleep cycle and health.” 

“Ouch.” Sunghoon clutched his chest. He could practically hear you roll your eyes. “No need to be so harsh.”

You hummed absent-mindedly, a yawn escaping your lips. “Was there a reason you hit me up, or can I get back to the movie?” 

“Oh, yeah.” Sunghoon cleared his throat. “Do you have any suggestions for the challenge? I’ve been thinking about it for a while, but I haven’t come up with anything interesting.” 

“Not really. I tried researching a bit, and there isn’t much we don’t already do. I’m starting to wonder if the only difference between a platonic and romantic relationship is physical intimacy. I’m sure we can reach a consensus though,” you added.  

Sunghoon groaned. “This is proving to be more difficult than I—”

“WAIT!” you interrupted him with an exclaim. “How about a picnic date? We’ve been talking about going on one with the rest of our friends for ages, but it’s never worked out. Let’s go—just the two of us. We can choose outfits for each other too! I’ll order you something online, and you do the same for me. We can spend the rest of our day doing whatever you want.” 

Sunghoon’s eyes widened. “That’s actually not a bad idea.”

“Right?” you giggled. “Maybe we can spread a blanket in the park under a tree and have a nice brunch. I’ll organise it!”

“I’ll take care of dinner and plan another activity for us to do between the two meals.” He grinned. “Looks like we might actually be able to pull this off, Y/N.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever been this excited to film a video,” you admitted.

Sunghoon’s heart fluttered, and his lips widened into a smile. “Me too.”

Everything was set. You’d received the dress Sunghoon had ordered for you, and he’d taken delivery of the one you’d bought for him.

Upon opening the package, Sunghoon was surprised to see you’d accidentally ended up matching outfits. While he’d chosen a white summer dress with blue flowers for you, you’d picked out a white graphic tee and low-rise, faded blue, baggy jeans for him. 

The fit was minimal—something that he would have purchased if he’d seen it in a mall. 

Grabbing a pair of sunglasses and running a hand through his messy hair, Sunghoon made a beeline for his car. He shot you a quick text regarding his ETA before backing the vehicle out of his driveway.

[hoon]: omw be there in 10

[y/n]: okie i’ll wait for u. call me when ur outside!!!!!!!!!

Averting his gaze to the road again, Sunghoon took a deep breath. He’d finally planned the perfect day out. It took a lot of effort and coordination on his part, but the several favours he had to call in were worth it. 

He’d probably gone over the top, especially considering the fact that this wasn’t even real, but he was determined not to half-ass anything. He had one chance, and he’d damn well make sure he didn’t waste it.

Turning the corner of your house, Sunghoon dialled your number. “I’m here.” 

“Coming,” you popped, the sound of your footsteps descending the stairs audible through the call. 

He grabbed the bouquet of flowers from the backseat, got rid of his sunglasses and exited the car. Your door opened a few seconds later, and Sunghoon’s world slipped from under his feet. 

God, you were beautiful. So beautiful and so fucking pretty in the dress he’d chosen for you. The material fit you perfectly—it accentuated your upper body and was flowy from your lower waist. The dress was almost ankle-length with a side slit that began at your upper thigh. Your shoulders and collar bones were exposed, a gold pendant filling the empty space the deep square neckline left in its wake. 

Your left shoulder was carrying a tote bag, and your right hand was holding a large picnic basket. Much to Sunghoon’s surprise, your free hand was wrapped around a bouquet too. 

Snapping himself out of his reverie, he took the basket from you and placed it inside the car. “You look amazing, sunshine,” he breathed. “Just—wow.”

Giggling, you did a little twirl for him. “Thanks! I love what you’ve done with your hair. It makes you more attractive.”

Sunghoon mock-saluted and bowed dramatically, a chuckle escaping his lips. “Took me ten minutes to style it.” Glancing at the flowers in your hand, he asked, “You got me flowers?” 

Maybe his eyesight was faulty, but Sunghoon felt your entire demeanour suddenly change. Tucking a stray strand behind your ear, you averted your gaze from his and shyly mumbled, “You took it upon yourself to plan the majority of the day. The least I could do was gift you some flowers.” 

Right when Sunghoon thought he couldn’t love you any more than he already did, you went ahead and did this. He’d never received flowers in his life before, and the gesture meant everything to him. 

Swallowing the lump in his throat, he took the bouquet from you. “Thank you,” he said, voice heavy with gratitude. “Don’t kill me, but I don’t know the name of these flowers.” 

Laughing, you pinched his cheek. “They’re asters.” 

“What do they mean?” 

“Why don’t you search it up when you go home?” you quipped. “Let me know once you find out.”  

Sunghoon shrugged and handed you the flowers he’d bought for you. “Sunflowers for my sunshine.” 

A wide grin broke across your lips. “They’re my favourite!” 

“I know, dummy,” he said, flicking your forehead and opening the passenger’s door for you. “That’s why I got them for you.” 

“Be nice!” you complained as he walked around the car. Taking a seat beside you, he started the engine and began driving. “I’m your girlfriend!” 

“I just opened the door for you,” Sunghoon pointed out, promptly ignoring the way his heart rate picked up. “I think I’m being gentlemanly enough.” 

“That’s not a word.”

“Is too.”

“Is not.”

“Is too.”

“This is why you get no bitches.”

“I got you.”

“Are you calling me a bitch?”

“I’m calling you mine.”

Snorting, you said, “Not your best save, Park.” 

Biting down the smile threatening to break across his lips, Sunghoon said, “I’ll survive, but you should really start recording.” 

“Right,” you gasped, your eyes widening. Fetching the DSLR from your tote bag and switching it on, you placed it on the dashboard carefully. After ensuring that the camera was rolling, you began, “I’m in the car with Sunghoon right now. He just picked me up, but I lowkey forgot to record it.”

“Y/N was too busy gawking at me,” Sunghoon teased and raised an eyebrow at the lens. “I’m too attractive for my own good.” 

“Nobody’s buying your bullshit.” You rolled your eyes. “But if you do think he looks cute, it’s because I chose his outfit.” 

“And if you think she looks beautiful, that’s because I chose her outfit.” 

You nodded. “He did. We thought kicking off the challenge this way would be cool. Clothes were ordered by both of us individually, which means neither of us had any idea what had been chosen by the other until we met ten minutes ago. Crazy how we still ended up matching.”

“We exchanged flowers too. Y/N got me asters, and I got her sunflowers.” 

“Hoon has no idea what asters signify,” you commented and nudged him with your elbow. “He didn’t even know the flowers I gifted him were asters.”

“Don’t shame me for not being a nerd!” Sunghoon defended himself. “Only you can be the kind of person who reads The Language of Flowers and indulges in floriography because they’re bored.” 

 “Aaaand the worst boyfriend award goes to this guy sitting right next to me,” you announced, shooting him a nasty glare. “He’s been annoying me from the moment he came to pick me up.”

“I opened the door for you!”

“How long are you going to milk the one gentlemanly thing you did?” 

Sunghoon scoffed in disbelief. “I thought gentlemanly wasn’t a word.”

“I lied,” you popped and grinned cheekily. 

“The problem with this relationship is you, woman, not me.”

Laughing, you turned to the camera again. “We’re going on multiple dates today. I’ve organised a picnic brunch, and Hoon has organised dinner.”

“It’s a surprise,” Sunghoon explained. “But I can assure you that it’s going to be the coolest thing ever.”

You hummed in agreement. “I believe him. He always gives the best surprises. Anyway, I’m going to stop recording now, and I’ll see you guys once we reach the park. I think we’re almost there.” 

“Five minutes,” Sunghoon provided. 

You grabbed the DSLR and brought it close to your face. Cupping your hand over the lens as if you were telling it a secret, you whispered, “T-minus five minutes to the best picnic date ever. Bye!”

Despite it being June and most kids being on vacation, the park wasn’t crowded. 

Even though it was almost 10:30 and the sun was merciless, there were plenty of people jogging on the track. Sunghoon spotted a laughter club in session a few hundred metres away from where you’d laid your blanket under the tree.

Thanks to the clear sky and blowing wind, more than a few people had taken out their own picnic baskets and decided to enjoy the weather. A bunch of middle-schoolers were playing basketball about fifty metres away from your tree, and though Sunghoon would have appreciated the peace, it was fun to watch them run around on the court. 

You’d set up the camera immediately upon arrival. Even though it was still rolling, neither of you were aware of it. It lay forgotten to the side, and as far as Sunghoon was concerned, it was just the two of you.

“It’s a beautiful day,” you mumbled, gathering your strands and tying them up in a messy bun. “Really fucking hot though.” 

“You have some relief, at least,” Sunghoon said, pointing at your exposed shoulders and flowing dress. “I’m fully covered and positively dying in here.” 

You smiled sheepishly. “Oops. That’s my bad.” 

Laughing, Sunghoon ran a hand through his hair. “What did you get for us to eat in that basket of yours?” he asked. “It was pretty heavy.” 

“Nothing much,” you answered and dragged the basket closer to you. Opening the lid, you pulled out Tupperware containing watermelons, muskmelons and mango slices. You’d also prepared a heart-shaped pizza and baked half a dozen macarons. Finally, you fetched a bottle filled with peach-iced tea and a pair of champagne glasses. 

Sunghoon gaped at the assortment of food you’d arranged. “Did you make everything by yourself?” 

“I wish,” you snorted. “Mom made the macarons and delivered them via FedEx. I don’t have the patience to bake.”

“Okay, but this is still crazy,” Sunghoon said, amazement evident in his tone. “The amount of effort you’ve put in is insane.” 

Blushing, you shoved his shoulder. “Stop! You’re embarrassing me!”

“I’m complimenting you!” he exclaimed, and served himself a piece of the pizza. “Bringing homemade food is the best thing you could’ve done. And God, this is delicious. I’m going to wife you right now.” 

You laughed incredulously. “Slow down, Romeo. We just started dating. How about you show me a good time first?” 

This. This was exactly the reason why Sunghoon didn’t entirely hate being stuck in the friend zone. Because no matter how much you told people you were just friends and there was nothing going on between the two of you, you were constantly flirting. 

The only reason he was afraid of confessing his feelings was that he didn’t know much of the flirting was real. It was the dynamic of your friendship—neither of you thought it was weird making suggestive comments. You were too comfortable with each other to let such things bother you. 

Sunghoon could no longer tell whether your relationship was still platonic. He was too hopelessly in love with you to keep knowing the difference between a joke and genuineness. His heart surged every time you said something only a romantic partner would, and his heart shattered every time he reminded himself that you didn’t actually mean it. 

You never meant it. 

But Sunghoon was a selfish person. He was going to take what he could get. He would rather be unintentionally strung along than give these moments up. The minuscule part of him that hated you for the pain you were causing him was nothing compared to the part of him that loved you unconditionally. 

Forcing himself out of his reverie, Sunghoon raised an eyebrow at you. “In front of everyone?”

“You’re so gross!” you snickered, your eyes shining with mischief. “I obviously mean when we get home!” 

I’m going to kill myself, Sunghoon thought. I’m going to kill myself before she kills me.   

The two of you had finished eating almost thirty minutes ago. Now, you were just lying on the blanket and staring at the sky, having conversations about the most random topics. 

You were talking shit about some know-it-all guy in your physics class, but Sunghoon wasn’t really paying any attention to what you were saying.

He was still stuck on what had happened an hour ago when you’d urged him to feed you because “that was what couples did.” 

Sunghoon didn’t give a shit what couples did. His biggest problem at the moment was his mind replaying the incident like a broken record. He couldn’t stop thinking about it. He’d already known he was being an idiot by agreeing to come on this date, but he never thought he’d regret his decision this quickly.

“Are you okay?” 

Blinking, Sunghoon spared you a glance. “Peachy.” 

“Those kids over there are calling us,” you told him, pointing to the basketball court. “We should go see what they want.” 

Nodding, he pulled himself to his feet and gave you a hand. Leaving the DSLR under the tree wouldn’t have been safe, so you grabbed it and the two of you made your way to the children waiting for you. 

“Hey,” a perky boy greeted you enthusiastically. “I’m Hyun. We’ve been playing basketball for the past several hours. The team that wins 6 out of 11 matches has to treat the other team to ice cream. Unfortunately, 2 of our friends left, and now it’s just the 6 of us divided into 2 teams. We really don’t want to play half-court, but we can’t play full-court with a team of only 3 each. Do you guys want to play the last few matches with us? One match only lasts 15 minutes.” 

Sunghoon exchanged a look with you. Then, you glanced at your spot under the tree. Lastly, you checked out your outfit—the slit exposing most of your leg and the lack of coverage for your shoulders.

“I have a pair of shorts and a shirt in my car,” he informed you. 

You took a moment to weigh your options. Honestly, playing in the open when the sun was out to torture everyone didn’t sound appealing. There was also the issue of you needing to switch outfits, and you didn’t know if you wanted to take the effort of changing inside Sunghoon’s car. 

But kids had always been your weak spot and the little rascals were staring you down with their puppy eyes. 

You sighed. “Fine. We’re in.”

“I haven’t played in a while,” Sunghoon admitted. “I think it’s been over 6 months.” 

“I haven’t played since varsity girls either,” you said. The kids had left to take a break a few minutes ago and the court was empty save for the two of you.

You’d changed into his clothes, but the shirt was too long for you. So, you’d requested him to tie the extra into a knot at the back. Thankfully, the shorts could be tightened at the waist with lace. 

Sunghoon could get used to you wearing his wardrobe. 

He idly dribbled the ball the kids had given to him for safekeeping while you stretched your stiff muscles. “Then I guess we get to evaluate whose skills have become more rusty.”

“Free shots?” you asked, eyes alight with a competitive fire and a smirk tugging at your lips. “We can test our aim and get a feel of the baskets on this court. It would be a good warm-up exercise.”  

Sunghoon poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue. “Bring your camera here. Record me from up close. I’m going to go for a layup.”

“Wow,” you scoffed but did as you were told nonetheless. Before stepping onto the court, you’d filmed Sunghoon and yourself, explaining that you were about to play basketball with a bunch of kids. Naturally, you’d decided not to record the match in order to respect the privacy of the children. “Don’t you think you’re getting ahead of yourself? I’m telling you right now that I won’t care if you miss the shot. I will use it to humiliate you in the video.” 

Sunghoon rolled his eyes. 

You switched on the DSLR and pointed the lens at him. “We’re doing free shots till the kids come back from their break,” you said. “Hoon’s convinced he can land a layup even though he hasn’t touched a ball for several months.” 

“Don’t condescend me,” Sunghoon grumbled as he walked to the 3-pointer line. “It’s not like I’ve completely forgotten how to play. I’m pretty sure I can nail a simple shot.”

“We’ll see.”

“You know what,” he called. “I’m going to dedicate this layup to you so that when I make it, you’ll know not to doubt my athletic prowess.”

All you did was raise an eyebrow. 

“This one’s for you, babe!” Sunghoon announced and began running. The ball was a number 6—smaller than the size 7 he was used to. The grip was worn due to excessive use, but he still had complete control over it. 

However, he misjudged the distance from the hoop. He realised a second too late that he’d taken the first step of the layup later than he was supposed to. 

The ball collided against the rim and rebounded.

“Air ball!” you hollered and zoomed into Sunghoon’s face. “Athletic prowess found to be missing! What a shame!” 

His cheeks, along with the tips of his ears, were red with embarrassment. He couldn’t even bring himself to look into the camera after making such a big fool out of himself.

“I am begging you, Y/N. Can we please edit that part out?” 

“I’m kicking your ass, Park.”

“I suggest you take the over-confidence down a notch.” 

You smirked, dribbling the basketball in place. Sunghoon was blocking the way to your side of the court, and each of the kids on your team had a man on them. Playing in the sun for so long must have tired them out because no one was making an effort to get rid of the shield standing in front of them.

The last match was a 1v1 at this point.  

“I’m not in the habit of lying,” you said, and dribbled the ball from between his legs. 

Sunghoon cursed under his breath and chased after you, but you were speeding away from him faster than he could keep up. The layup was clean and effortless. You barely broke a sweat. 

“SUCK IT!” you screamed. “Your team is going down!” 

Sunghoon rolled his eyes. He watched your team—Hyun, Chul and Dae—do the victory dance you’d taught them. It was hilarious because none of you had any coordination. The arm wave move made it seem as though all of you were having a seizure. 

“We still have fifteen seconds of the match left,” he pointed out, and pat Iseul’s back in reassurance. “Don’t go celebrating just yet.” 

 “You’re four points behind. Just admit defeat,” Dae said. “We’ve won!” 

“We’re not surrendering,” Hajoon said angrily. “Sunghoon will make sure we win.”

“Boys!” you interrupted loudly. “Let’s finish the championship sportingly. We’re playing for fun.” 

Chul muttered something under his breath that Sunghoon and you chose to ignore. 

“Seojoon,” Sunghoon called quietly. “Now that we have possession of the ball, I need you to pass it to me from below. Then I need Hajoon and Iseul to gang up on Y/N. Don’t push or shove; just keep her away. The worst thing we can do is commit a foul. The rest of the boys won’t be a problem, but I’ll need Seojoon to act as my shield in case they try to take the ball from me. Do not let anyone come near me under any circumstances. I’m going to go for a 5-pointer.”

The trio audibly gasped. 

Iseul nervously asked, “Are you sure you can score?” 

“Not without the three of you helping me out.” Sunghoon nodded. “Y/N is quick and slippery. Keep your eye on her. We’ll lose if she gets possession of the ball. I’ll take care of the rest.” 

The boys let out a sound of agreement and dispersed, taking their respective positions. 

Sunghoon searched for you, and when your gazes met, he made a gesture of slitting his throat. This time, you rolled your eyes and dismissed him without a word. 

“Let’s start,” you announced with a clap and got into position. He noticed you were standing away from the basket. The rest of your team was too. It dawned on Sunghoon that you’d positioned everyone in a way that would prevent them from committing a foul which would grant his team free throws. 

It was smart and reasonable of you to think that way. Sunghoon wasn’t known for landing 5-pointers. Heck, he never even attempted them. He usually went for layups and 3-pointers. 

Focusing on the game, he took a deep breath. Seojoon passed the ball at him as soon as you yelled Go!

Sunghoon dribbled to your side of the court immediately. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw you hesitate, but your mouth parted in realisation the second you caught onto what he was doing. 

“Stay on her!” he yelled at Iseul and Hajoon. “Don’t let her go.”

Sunghoon dodged the rest of your teammates. Seojoon wasn’t doing a good job at keeping them away, but he didn’t have enough time to dwell on it. He could do this by himself as long as you were out of the picture. 

Sunghoon eyed the basket and bent at his knees, gathering enough momentum to jump. He’d been hitting the gym more often, and he hoped to God his hard work wouldn’t fail him at such a crucial time. 

Exhaling once, Sunghoon jumped and let the ball fly across the court. The moment the ball was out of his hands, you crashed into him, knocking him to the ground and falling on top of him. 

“Ow,” he muttered, his arm wrapping itself around your waist on instinct. “That’s foul play.” 

Before you could bite back, Sunghoon heard someone scream, “No way! Sunghoon did it!” 

Sunghoon grinned and craned his neck to look at his teammates. A laugh tumbled past his lips when he saw them doing the floss dance and playfully teasing the losing team.

The sound of your groan made him avert his attention to you. You’d raised your head to find out whether Sunghoon had made the basket, and upon realising that you’d lost the match, you let it fall on his chest again. “Man,” you grumbled in defeat.

“Aw,” Sunghoon teased. “It happens to the best of us.”

“Who asked?”

Snorting, Sunghoon loosened his grip around your waist. Rolling off him, you laid down on your back in the middle of the court next to him. “Am I supposed to buy you ice cream now?” 

He checked his watch before answering, “Nah. Let’s go home and freshen up. It’s almost time for my date.”

“The beach,” you marvelled. Both of you were standing on a cliff overlooking the expanse of sand and water. “I should have guessed.” 

Sunghoon agreed. It shouldn’t have been hard to pinpoint the venue of the date once he’d requested you to wear shorts and sandals. However, your obliviousness had worked in his favour. 

The entire thing was supposed to be a surprise. It was supposed to sweep you off your feet.

He averted his attention from the ocean to find that you were already staring at him. A soft smile was adorning your face, and with the breeze ruffling your unbound hair, you looked nothing short of a fairy tale. 

“Do you remember the last time we came here?” you inquired, and returned your gaze to the view again. Sunghoon didn’t bother to take his eyes off you—he couldn’t take his eyes off you. The reflection of the sunset in your irises was too intoxicating. “Jay, Jake, Yizhuo and Isa were with us. We spent the entire night talking around a bonfire. I couldn’t keep myself awake once the clock struck two. You tucked me close and let me rest my head on the space between your shoulder and neck. You kissed my forehead and promised me you’d wake me up in a few hours.” 

Sunghoon didn’t say anything. He only kept staring at the image of the sunset in your eyes—the way the ocean consumed the ball of fire the same way his love for you consumed his very being. 

Love shouldn’t hurt this much, he thought. It shouldn’t be this painful.  

“I remember the way you smelt,” you continued. “Like vanilla and sandalwood. I remember wanting to pull you closer because you also smelt like home. I hated moving to a new city for college. I missed our hometown. I missed life being simpler. I missed the old times. But those brief moments before I fell asleep reminded me that not everything had changed. The clumsy boy I’d met in kindergarten was still with me. Sure, he was a bigger pain in my ass than he had been when we were kids, but he hadn’t left my side even once. And I knew he wouldn’t for a long time.”

“You’ve been the only constant in my life, Sunghoon,” you mumbled and turned your body towards his. Snaking your arms around his waist, you pulled him into a hug. “Thank you for being a good friend to me. I love you.”

And though Sunghoon knew you didn’t mean it the way he wished you did, he returned your embrace and confessed, “I love you too.” 

“What the fuck?” you whispered and let go of Sunghoon’s hand to jog ahead. “WHAT THE FUCK? IS THAT A CANDLELIGHT DINNER?” 

Laughing in amusement, he pocketed his hands and watched you freak out. The beach was usually crowded at this hour, but he’d asked Jake—the surfer of their group—if there was anywhere he could spend the evening undisturbed. 

“Your eyes do not deceive you,” he joked as he approached you. “I know it’s kind of corny, but this was the most romantic date setting I could think of.”

“Corny?” you exclaimed incredulously. “This is amazing!” Nudging him with your elbow, you teased, “I didn’t know you had it in you.” 

“You would have known a lot more if you’d asked me out before,” Sunghoon smirked, a suggestive undertone to his comment. “But I suppose we can make do with what we have now.”

You snorted. “You’re insufferable.” Then added, “I don’t want to shoot us having dinner here. Maybe I’ll just film the date set-up and our outfits, but I think I want this evening to remain between us only.”

“Oh.” Sunghoon raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, sure, that works for me. Do you want me to get your camera?” 

The next five minutes were spent recording the date he had organised. The food was prepared by Jay, whose chef father had taught him a thing or two before the boy moved to the city for college. Sunghoon had dragged Yizhuo and Isa with him to shop for decor. 

They’d bought a soft blanket which was now spread on the sand. He’d also purchased six couch pillows to make the setting cosier. Fairy lights covered the perimeter of the throw. 

The coffee table Sunghoon had stolen from himself and brought to the beach was filled with all kinds of your favourite food, a scented candle burning in the centre of it. 

Since he’d known he couldn’t escape you to set up everything that he’d planned, he’d begged his friends to do it for him. Obviously, they’d teased him about it on their group chat, but he’d ignored them the way he always did. 

“I have another surprise,” Sunghoon popped as the two of you settled down on opposite sides of the table. “I don’t know if you’re going to be up for it though.”

“Is it the wine?” you asked, eyeing the corked bottle partially hidden under one of the pillows. “Because I saw it long back, and I am all for getting drunk.” 

Sunghoon chuckled. “Nah, it’s not the wine, but yeah, we’re getting drunk. There’s absolutely no doubt about it. But,” he continued, “I’d been going through Pinterest to search for date ideas when I called you in the middle of your movie a few nights ago. After our talk, I remembered you’d made this board with Karina when you were a thirteen-year-old.”

You gasped and reached over the table to smack his arm. “You stalked my Pinterest?! That is so uncool! There’s tons of embarrassing shit on there! I should have privated those boards when I had the chance,” you muttered to yourself. 

“Then I wouldn’t have rented a projector for us to watch a movie after we finish dinner.” Sunghoon grinned cheekily. “We are not watching some sappy romcom though,” he warned. “Soap2Day came in clutch so we can watch Suzume or Guardians of the Galaxy Volume 3. Your choice.”

Your mouth parted in surprise. For a few moments, you didn’t say anything. With a raised eyebrow, Sunghoon watched you struggle to form the words. “Okay, I know it was creepy to stalk you on Pinterest—” 

“NO!” you blurted, your eyes widening. “It’s not creepy! I just—No one has ever done anything of this sort for me. I don’t know what to say except… thank you.”

Before he could reply, you buried your face in your hands, and muttered, “Gosh, I sound so ungrateful, but I really do appreciate it. More than I can express.” Raising your head, you looked straight into his eyes. “I have this extremely strong urge to kiss you right now. Would it be fine with you if I acted on it?”

Sunghoon stopped breathing. His smile dropped, and his heart skipped a beat. The entire world could have crumbled, and he would have remained frozen in place, trying to make sense of what you’d just said. 

“W—what?” he croaked. 

You broke off the eye contact and dropped your gaze to the ground. “Sorry. That was stupid of me—”

“Yes,” Sunghoon breathed. “Yes, it would be fine with me.” 

You exhaled, appearing visibly relieved, and that somehow made him feel better about the sharp turn the evening had taken. Of course, he was thrilled you wanted to kiss him, but part of him couldn’t help but wonder if you’d regretted voicing your thoughts. 

Licking your lips, you unfolded your legs and scooted away from the table. Instead of standing up, you got on your knees and made your way towards him.

Sunghoon also moved away from the table to make space for you, and once you reached him, you swung your legs on either side of him. Straddling his lap, you towered over him. 

Snaking your arms around his shoulder, you glanced at his mouth. 

Even though it was driving Sunghoon out of his mind to not close the distance between your lips, he let you take your time. You traced your thumb across his lower lip and then shifted your hand to the back of his neck. 

Weaving your fingers through his hair, you let your eyes flutter shut and lowered your mouth over his. 

Sunghoon’s entire universe exploded into shards of molten light. A tidal wave of emotions crashed into him, setting his nerves on fire and making fireworks explode inside his chest.

The boy couldn’t have kissed you back any faster. Tilting his head to the side, he pulled you closer by the nape. 

Settling in his lap, you tugged at his hair, the nails of your other hand digging into his shoulder. 

A groan slipped past Sunghoon’s lips. God, he’d coveted the taste of you for so long, and now that he was finally kissing you, he realised he’d never estimated the magnitude of his love for you accurately before. 

Because this… this was everything. Sunghoon felt on top of the world, and pure euphoria was coursing through his veins. He couldn’t get enough of you. A single kiss would never be enough to satiate him. The floodgates were thrown open, and the thought of this being a one-time, impulsive thing made his gut twist painfully. 

He knew he needed to tell you. Right here, right now, he needed to tell you the truth. 

“Y/N.” Sunghoon gasped, breaking the kiss. He was leaning back now, his weight resting on his left elbow. The desperation and urgency with which you’d come onto him had been more than he could handle. “I need to tell you something.” 

Your eyes remained glued to his lips and there was a tinge of disappointment on your face. As if you didn’t want to stop. As if you wanted to keep going. 

With a jolt, it dawned on him that you probably wanted him just as much as he wanted you.  

The epiphany alone was enough for Sunghoon to consider ditching his plan of confessing his feelings and instead close the distance between your mouths again. But, he steeled his nerves and pushed himself into a sitting position.

He didn’t bother asking you to get up from his lap nor did he bother removing his left hand from your waist. If this confession went sideways, he’d end up losing you anyway. 

“What is it?” you whispered, your disappointed expression giving way to concern and nervousness. “Did I go too far? I’m sorry—”

“Stop,” Sunghoon ground out. “Please stop. Let me speak.” 

You pursed your lips, but he could tell you were scared shitless. There was fear in your eyes, and he hated making you feel as though you’d done something wrong when you’d given him the one thing he’d wanted more than anything else.

“I…” Sunghoon started, forcing himself to find the courage to say the words. “Y/N, I love you.” 

There it was. He’d done it. The cat was out of the bag, and all he could do now was wait with bated breath. 

Your mouth parted open, but no sound came out of it. Your face was unreadable. It was void of any emotion. Swallowing the lump in his throat, Sunghoon tore his gaze from yours and let out a humourless laugh. “Right. That’s okay—”

But then he felt your hands grabbing his jaw, making him pin his attention on you again. 

There was pure, unadulterated joy on your countenance, a wide smile adorning your lips. “I love you too,” you breathed. “Oh, my God, Sunghoon, I love you too.” 

Sunghoon blinked. “What?” he mumbled, his mouth set in a pout due to your squishing his cheeks. 

You leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to his puckered lips. “I love you too,” you repeated. 

Gripping your hands, Sunghoon removed them from his face and stared up at you in bewilderment. “You’re serious?” 

“Hasn’t it been obvious to you?”

“Hasn’t it been obvious to you?” he shot back. “I’ve loved you since high school.”

You snorted. “So have I.” 

“Sophomore year.”

“Same.”

“I knew right after the homecoming ball.”

“Sucker!” you exclaimed. “I knew right after the game!” 

Sunghoon frowned. “It’s not a competition, Y/N,” he said, and then added, “But if it were, I would win. The amount of effort I’ve put into hiding my feelings is insane.”

“Sure,” you drawled. “That’s why all my followers keep saying it’s clear you’re in love with me.”

The tips of his ears turned red in embarrassment. “You saw the comments?” 

“Of course I did,” you answered, your voice soft. “I just never believed them. The notion never seemed possible. Isn’t it crazy how it was real this entire time?” 

Sunghoon chuckled. “We’re idiots.”

“We are,” you said, smiling at him in affection. “To be honest, I wouldn’t have ever said anything about what I truly felt if you hadn’t found the courage to confess to me.” 

“I know, I know,” you defended and rolled your eyes when he gave you a pointed look. “I did ask if I could kiss you. Trust me, I was more surprised than you were. Heck, I was fully prepared to play it off by spouting some bullshit in case you said no. What you did for me, Sunghoon… I couldn’t keep the urge inside me anymore. I didn’t care about the consequences. I didn’t care that there would be no turning back—I knew I had to take the risk. And I’m glad that I did.”

Sunghoon’s heart swelled with joy. “Me too.”

“Wait,” you said quickly. “How’d you know you were in love with me?”

Rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, he answered, “While we were dancing at homecoming. You didn’t have a single move in you, but you didn’t wanna be the only one not dancing, so you started doing what you’d learnt in Zumba. It was hilarious—watching you be clueless but still killing it on the dance floor. It made me proud of you, but more than that, it made me realise what I felt for you.” 

“Aw,” you cooed. “That’s really sweet of you, but I definitely knew what I was doing.”

“Let’s not ruin the moment by lying to each other.”

“You’re such a dork!” 

“It’s your turn now!” Sunghoon grinned. “Tell me!”

“Okay, but you have to promise not to judge me,” you warned. “My story is embarrassing.” 

Locking his pinkie with yours, he promised, “I won’t.”

“Remember how you sat with Yeojin at the game?” you asked, to which Sunghoon nodded. “Well, I’d been saving seats for us. I fought a lot of people to keep the seat next to me vacant, but you didn’t even acknowledge me when I called your name. Yeojin caught hold of you, and you went to sit with her without bothering to check if I was around.” Shrugging, you mumbled, “That made me mad and jealous and upset. Not just at her, but at both of you. I’d never been possessive over my friends, and I’d never felt such ugly emotions before. There was only one reasonable explanation.”

Sunghoon’s eyebrows flew up. “Woah. I’m sorry for what I did.”

“Nah, it’s cool. It was loud at the game and I don’t think you heard me.” You laughed and waved him away. “I was being petty. And I know it’s not cute like your story, but that was what made me realise there was a chance I loved you.”

“Cute or not, that was the best story I’ve ever heard,” he said cheekily. “Also, don’t get me wrong—I would love nothing more than have you sit in my lap, but I think we should finish dinner first. Let’s finish what you started once we’re done eating.”

Your eyes widened, and you scrambled away from him. “Right.”

“Wait!” Sunghoon grabbed your wrist before you could get up and go back to the other side of the table. “The asters—what do they signify?” 

You smiled and leaned closer to his face, pressing the gentlest of kisses to his cheek. 

“Love.” 

[tagthescullion]

The whole premise of TOA never really made sense to me. If Apollo is being punished because of his oracle and Octavian, by that logic Hermes should have spent HOO running around mortal because of Luke.

I haven't read ToA well enough (or the whole thing tbh) but the official answer --I think-- is that apollo got punished, not bc he let his descendant fuck up, but bc he let himself be charmed by octavian's words rather than dissuade him

that's massive bullshit, if you ask me. gods can't get involved! that's the whole.... let me sigh real deep... that is THE WHOLE FUCKING ISSUE IN THE OG SERIES!! so if hermes abandoned luke bc he couldn't be there to either help him or make him worse, how in zeus' most overly-used testicles could apollo have got involved in octavian's shite?????

also random zeus just like.. handing out punishments for the sake of it?? hermes? nah, son, you're good, the child you never paid attention to almost destroyed us, killed who knows how many of his comrades, almost destroyed civilisation, tough luck, we all have that one bitchy one, don't beat yourself up. now, apollo, you dumb fuck of an idiot god, how are you so unbelievably foolish as to allow your great(x47)grandson octavian to try and raise gaea killing all of zero people and giving my demigod son a cruise trip on the mediterranean?? shame on you, you're disgraced and no longer my child

fucking hell, listen, rick lost his goddamn story right there. if he'd done an idk 50s ToA when the gods were still not percy-bound to do well with their kids, then yeah I guess, but invent a good crime for apollo, and don't contradict yourself so much, man!

[strawberryama]

His balls are huge. I can feel it in my soul!!

i say this too much so here we are besties

content : fem!reader x rook, ball sucking, public sex, library sex, cum swallowing, slight shoe humping mentions

18+ Minors dni!!!

“I can’t believe I’m even asking this…but do tell, how are you undoubtedly certain?”

“I just know it. I have that kind of sense, ya know?”

Cater could only roll his eyes. There was no way this conversation was happening right now. In front of his lunch no less. Thank god lunch was nearly over, cause he couldn’t eat anymore. Not after hearing about how _______ was dead certain her crush, the vice housewarden of Pomefiore, had huge breeder balls. He didn’t even want to think about that guy naked. Yet, this was the current lunch topic, as Trey was busy this afternoon.

“That’s…great. Can I please eat in peace?”

______ turned to her friend, watermelon chunk on her fork. She’d been eating this entire time. It was as if the conversation topic was just something as casual as homework answers to her. She completely unphased. ______ bit down on the watermelon, shrugging to the guy before her.

“You’re unbelievable, you know that?” Cater groaned.

“What?!”

“Nothing. Just forget it! I’m going to the library for study hall, early.”

“I’ll come with then!”

Cater only groaned once more as he stood up, grabbing his tray. “If you’re coming, then no more nasty discussion, ‘kay? I gotta study or Riddle’ll kill me.”

“Aye, aye!”

-

-

-

______ stayed true to her word. She even was actively studying alongside of Cater. She went looking for a book though, deep in the stacks. Sometimes potions class was a pain in the butt. There were so many cryptic ingredients that she knew next to nothing about.

The only issue was every damn book that explained those ingredients was up on the highest shelf. God forbid this school have accessible shelves. No, ofc ourse, they need to have six foot and then some tall shelves.

As she reached and stretched the best she could, she felt a broad, strong mass press into her. A hand came up, gracefully pulling the book she required from the shelf.

“Here you are,” mused a voice.

______turned to look over her shoulder, and none other than Rook Hunt stood there, pressed into her. He didn’t back up at all. Rook grinned down to ______, his free hand coming to grab her waist, rooting her there.

“Madame, how good to see you!~”

“You too, Rook,” she sheepishly smiled. She could feel her cheeks burning. Fuck. He was hot. His eyes pierced right through her like an arrow.

“You know, a lil birdie told me something.”

“O-Oh yeah?”

“You have a hypothesis about a specific part of my body is what I heard at lunch.”

“I!”

“It’s okay. You’re more than welcome to find out.”

At this, ______ felt something long and hard press into her ass. She was burning up and she was growing wet. She was going to get to see the Rook Hunt’s cock and fat, fat balls. She wasdrooling at the thought.

“May I?” she asked all too eager.

“Please, go right ahead”

-

-

-

Her eyes rolled right back into her head as she sucked on his fat balls. They felt sooo good in her mouth. She drooled all over them, salivating at the heady scent and taste she consumed. ______ could barely even stifle the obscene noises that she made. Let alone, the moan that she let out about the testicle that filled her mouth.

“Good girl,” Rook drawled. His hand grabbed a fistful of ______’s hair, pulling her in further, causing her to gag.

______ was thoroughly enjoying herself now. Her pussy smeared its juice all over Rook’s boot as she rubbed her clit desperate for any friction. Spit was dribbling down her chin. She was in ecstasy. A true dream. Finally, a pair of huge, fat balls full of hot, white cum. And they were all her’s. No one else’s.

Rook threw back his head against the bookshelf, hat dropping from his head. She was good at this, far better than he’d imagined she’d be when he overheard her at lunch. And the absolute messy display of a whore before him was hotter than hell. In fact, Rook may have just found his new favorite toy. And it was better than bothering that prefect of Savanaclaw could ever be.

Rook’s balls began tightening and he bucked into ______ more fervently than before. Her hand reached up, gently teasing at the head of Rook’s fat cock, urging it to cum all over her. Her thumb circled about the slit in his cock, spreading the precum that leaked out. All the while, her hand rubbed and squeezed what she could reach, daring Rook to let go. Daring him to cum and make a mess just for her.

Through hooded, lust fulled eyes, Rook saw the devious wanton look in ______’s eyes. God, she’s a goddess, he could only think. He yanked her off of his pulsating balls, posing his cock’s head before her lips before she could whine in complaint.

“Princeese, take it nice and deep,” he commanded in a shaky breath. But ______ didn’t need any instructions. Rook barely finished his sentence, before ______ began to suck on the tip of his cock.

She moaned, teasing him, with each inch she’d swallow up. Her tight throat constricted about Rook’s sensitive cock.

He couldn’t hold out any longer. His grip on her hair tightened, burying the last few centimeters of his cock in ______’s mouth. With a deep grunt, Rook keeled in on himself, shooting hot cum down ______’s throat. Those emerald eyes rolled back as he stifled a groan, his cock scraping against her uvula.

But ______ didn’t even flinch. She drank every drop of his hot salty cum, a dazed grin forming as she pulled herself off him. ______ gently licked off any remaining cum that dared to escape before grinning up at him mischievously.

“It seems my hypothesis was correct,” she snickered, placing his fallen hat upon her head.

[beatrixstonehill2]

"I can't believe this is happening to me! It's so disgusting I can't stand it. And to make matters worse my big sweaty cock gets harder and more needy with every pound I pile on. When I started transitioning I was so hot. Perfect, really. My cock was only one inch. I was thinking of having the tiny thing removed, maybe. But my many boyfriends seemed to like rubbing it and slapping it as they came in my tight, perky ass. Everything was going so well! I was the girl I always dreamed of being, ultra girly, putting most cis girls to shame with how traditionally feminine I was, absolutely filthy, always down 100% of the time to please any guy that wanted me. Anywhere in public, I was never a prude. If a man lifted my skirt or dress to fuck my ass in public, I'd lift it higher for them and tell them to go as hard as they want. If a guy exposed himself at me and jerked off, I'd rush over to suck him off or offer my ass. I was the perfect girl! And then this happened.....

So, guys love to dote on girls they date. And I, boy crazy as I was, loved going on dates with as many boys as possible. Multiple times a day. I didn't really think my love of taking boys on dates out very much. More proof I'm a perfect girl--I'm pretty ditzy and stupid..... I was taking each boy out and they'd have one meal and that's it. I'd go from eating pizza, to bottomless pasta bowls, to a Chinese buffet, to all-you-can-eat wings. I couldn't very well disappoint my dates and not put on a show. Men love a dirty, pretty girl who can keep up with their eating, and drinking! I of course drank whole pitchers of beer with most meals. I started noticing I was getting kind of messy. I wouldn't wipe my face or hands off as eagerly, staying as pretty as possible mattered less than putting on a show and stuffing my face for these guys, knowing it made their cocks soooo hard to see me overeat!

I began belching, sometimes even drinking so much beer I'd soil myself, and just giggle about it. Overeating made me so horny. But I didn't realize how badly I was neglecting my feminine side..... I started forgetting my estrogen, I ate so much red meat and other foods it triggered my body to release testosterone. My cock started getting big, so did my testicles. Soon, I, this once petite pretty girl, was pushing 200lbs, hung bigger than most men that fucked me. My erections became impossible to hide. Worse yet, I'd ejaculate prematurely as the worst times. Like some horny junior high kid, I'd talk to a cute guy, and instead of being in control, sexy, dominant and confident in my body, I'd be chubby, sweaty, stuttering, and ejaculate mid conversation with no warning, having to apologize.....

Men still loved it, and found the grosser, fatter version of me equally as hot, but now a new issue arose..... The men that took me out on dates and fucked me weren't just gym dudes who liked to see a woman keep up once in a while, these guys wanted me fatter. I wasn't eating five meals a night like before. I was eating four or five meals at one restaurant, then I'd get picked up by the next guy and have to force down another four or five. I've gone from 210lbs to 340lbs in just six months. I'm ballooning so fast none of my old cute clothes fit. Nothing does. I wear clothes a few sizes bigger now because I know I'm just going to get fatter. It makes me so hard thinking of how fat and disgusting I'm becoming. I don't need my hands to cum at all, I just need to stuff my face and picture myself double this size and my fouteen-inch monster cock shoots rope after rope of cum, which I don't bother cleaning. I reek of semen and sweat all the time and my boyfriends love how bad I stink.....

I used to dance and be super active, fuck with loads of energy. Now I just gorge myself, making gross moans, belching and farting constantly, bathing only a couple times a month.... I don't really do my hair or makeup or try to look cute. I'm just a fat slob. I eat as men fuck me. I hardly move. If I try to ride them they stop me and tell me not to burn any excess calories. I just get chauffeured from date to date, eat so much I occasionally puke all over my big fat gut, only to order more and keep eating. I get fucked as I keep eating. I'm not a cute, sexy girl anymore. I never will be again. I'm a disgusting whale. A blimp, getting bigger every day, piling on as much lard as possible to please all of my feeders. Someday I'll be immobile, and they'll probably take turns caring for me as I stuff my face, hooked up to oxygen, my heart pounding through my chest. My cock over twenty inches long but so buried in lard it probably just looks like feminine little nub again. I'll have no choice but to get as fat as I possibly can, to satisfy their cocks, and my own..... I know it's my destiny. I already get completely winded just walking up one flight of stairs. My heart pounds like I ran a marathon, my belly and saggy tits drenched in sweat. I'm so disgusting. But I have no choice..... Like I said, I'm the perfect girl, I'm only interested in being exactly what other boys want me to be. And if boys want me to be a giant pile of moaning lard? A good girl like me has no choice....."

[theogem]

Cropped for tumblr, full image is on Twitter.

I had this issue of thinking "I HAVE to draw their faces, otherwise people won't know it's Ed and Stede, how can I show that??" But seeing others' art has helped so much.

Also I've never drawn testicle before, so that was fun.

[ccuunnttbbooyyss]

The Resort (Part 1)

THIS IS AN URGENT ANNOUNCEMENT TO ALL THOSE IN THE [REDACTED] & [REDACTED] AREAS

Hello,

It has come to our attention that an unfortunate accident at one of our chemical treatment plans has occurred on the [REDACTED]st of [REDACTED] 2023, resulting in the contamination of the water supply in the above mentioned areas for a period of approximately 3 hours and 10 minutes.

A statement has been issued to water providers by The Company™️ and a number of anti-transformative chemicals have been released to counteract the imbalance.

However, the damage has been done and we wish to report on it as such.

As you may know, some of the affected water infiltrated the [REDACTED] Beach Resort where it unwittingly transformed multiple male patrons into what is colloquially referred to as "Cuntboys". IE- Men with a fully functional vagina, uterus, ovaries, etc. Others not as diligently exposed to the chemicals did not experience full "Cuntboy-ification" as it has been deemed.

This transformation is reported to have first occurred with a sudden and dramatic increase in the size of the lower extremities, glutes, lower back muscles and an initial reduction in penis and testicle size.

This reportedly occurred throughout the premises, including the pool's filtration system, the resort's water system (showers, baths, commercial water taps), and available on-tap drinking water.

The following changes consisted of what we are dubbing a "hyper-fertile cycle" where the excess chemical exposure was processed into a mixture of testosterone, dopamine and oxytocin. This resulted in a dramatically increased libido.

Fortunately the spread of the affected was contained within the resort and secondary exposure (either through sexual fluids or otherwise) was rendered ineffectual as the transformative chemicals were able to penetrate the skin barrier in less than 0.2 microseconds). This resulted in numerous impregnations or otherwise sexual encounters in and around the location, of which have been documented.

We encourage all those affected either through direct exposure or through coupling and secondary exposure to report to one of our branches to undergo a full physical exam and analysis.

We also encourage all currently, or presumed to be, pregnant to not terminate the pregnancy as we wish to ascertain valuable research data on the growth of the foetus within this timeframe.

We hope to reveal more information to the public as it becomes known.

Regards,

The Company.

~~~

You smirk as the commercial comes to an end, the broadcaster for the local news station thanking The Company for their transparency regarding the situation and continuing with more news on the recent baby boom caused through the accident.

You couldn't pay attention for long though, not as the hot little cuntboy you picked up from the resort was busy swallowing every inch of your enhanced cock down his throat.

You fisted his hair, shoving him down to push his nose in your pubes, loving how his throat spasmed around your dick and the gurgling sound that came out of his tight throat.

"You hear that baby, they wanna give you a checkup."

A soft whimper comes out as the only response. He looks up at you, tear-filled baby blues staring into yours. He's been working your cock for hours, thoroughly content with kneeling between your spread thighs and swallowing every enhanced load you can give.

"Yeah I know you're pregnant. They just wanna make sure you can give me a while lot more."

A more pleased sound comes out as he resumes his enthusiastic sucking. You're sure that's his fifth load in as many hours.

You sigh as the hot cum shoots up your rock hard dick. You might as well put off that appointment till tomorrow...

Story in collaboration with @maleagetransformation , Part 2 over on his account!

[craigslisthorses]

Hi I just found this blog and it’s awesome :) just curious, when is it important to geld a horse and when should you let a horse be a stallion? :0

Thanks! In my opinion most stallions should be gelded! Even high dollar race horses that made a lot of money often aren't breeding stock worthy due to their horrific conformation. ie, Into Mischief has horrendous leg conformation that he does pass to his foals. A breeding stock worthy horse must have good disposition, no genetic diseases (like HYPP, ect) do well in the show circuit, and have good conformation. AND 2 BALLS! People don't realize cryptorchidism (where only one testicle drops) is hereditary. You also don't want to geld a horse too young however, because it can stunt the growth of their penis and lead to issues like kidney stones. Gelding a horse too old has a higher risk of it being fatal. Perfect age to geld one is about 1 year old, the longer you wait the more likely you'll have a horse with longer term stallion like behavior, and issues from castration.

We personally refer all gelds over the age of 5 to referral clinics, in the Tennessee Walking Horse breed we tend to have larger "rings" where gut can drop through the castration site. They surgically sew the rings to prevent that, so it's a bit more detailed than a standard castration.

[followthebluebell]

what were q's issues? i tried to search your blog but tumblr is tumblr

Oh, that's because I never really went public with the extent of his problems. I didn't want to deal with the potential 'just euth him' comments, especially since I genuinely don't think a compassionate euthanasia would have been wrong.

Anyway, his butthole didn't work.

That's the short version.

I'm gonna put a more full history under the cut because it's really gross. Like fair warning. There's a lot of discussion of this cat's butthole, poop, and health issues. If you just want to keep imagining him as a cute little fluffball, maybe go look at his pictures instead.

Specifically, his anal sphincter didn't seem to function. His anus was just open and loose. Whatever was wrong with him ALSO seemed to affect his scrotum. Cats tend to hold their testicles pretty high and tight but his were super loose. I'm genuinely not sure if there's an actual connection there, but it was weird enough that it made its way into my notes about him.

He also had loose stools so he was just kinda constantly dribbling all over himself, whoever was holding him, his bedding, the floor--- you get the idea. He required frequent baths: he'd get a bath at the start of my shift and at the end, at the very least. Most nights had an evening bath as well. That way, he could at least stay somewhat free of excrement. This was terrible for his skin, of course; that's an excessive number of baths. It was just one of those damned if you do, damned if you don't situations. Considering the alternative was letting him sit in his own waste, we decided that baths were better.

He also wasn't gaining any weight. He wasn't taking in ANY nutrition from his food at all. Whatever went into him seemed to come right back out within a few hours. He was being tube fed for two weeks; he didn't seem capable of eating without grinding his teeth terribly. I genuinely wasn't sure how much sensation he even HAD in his anus until I caught him on camera squatting in a box.

That gave me hope more than anything else did. It at least told me he had nerve endings back there. It was just the sphincter or maybe the last inch or so of his intestine that seemed defective. Since he was such a sweet kitten otherwise, we decided to give him a chance to grow. The plan was to get him to UC Davis or a similar teaching hospital in the hope that they could extend his good intestine and sort of construct an artificial sphincter.

And then he just got over it. I picked him up to give him his morning bath and his butthole was just SLIGHTLY puckered. Over the next few days, I took a series of the grossest pictures in my fucking life and confirmed that his sphincter was sphincting. He started eating voraciously on his own. He started growing. He also stopped tooth grinding-- again, I don't know if this is significant, but it's another thing that made it into my notes.

I have no idea what happened, but I'm glad he's healthy. He just needed time to grow into his butthole or something.

[a-killer-obsession]

In Heat (Bonus Fic)

By jove, yall went and got me to 300 followers! Thank you all so much from the bottom of my heart! As promised, here's the bonus followup to this fic, this time with Heat as the omega!

Prompt: Alpha/Omega + Breeding.

Additional Tags: she/her intersex reader, he/him intersex heat, omegaverse and all the usual that comes with it (marking, knotting, etc), friends to lovers, tiny recreational drug mention, mention of child mutilation in regard to intersex babies, transphobia but in a alpha/omega context?, dysphoria, breeding kink, praise kink, handjob, oral sex (giving), p in v sex, creampie, hurt/comfort

WC: 4k

Event Masterlist

🔞 Minors DNI 🔞

“Heat, calm down,” Killer soothed, “it was just a small fire, no biggy. It'll be fixed next island, you can just set up in the commander's lounge for now”

“You don't understand!” Heat pulled at his hair as he paced, “my suppressants were in there!”

You watched as poor Heat nearly wore a line in the floor with his anxious pacing, after accidentally dropping a lit joint on his bed and setting fire to the comforter, along with half the room. Nobody got hurt thankfully, and the damage was minimal really, but his bed and side table had been heavily burned along with their contents. It wasn't a widely known fact that Heat was an omega, he presented like an alpha male, his closest friends were alphas, and with the suppressants masking his scent nobody ever questioned whether he was an alpha. Heat was actually a rarity, a genetic mix between sperm that wanted to be male and an egg that wanted to be an omega, a combination that would not usually result in a viable fetus, resulting in what many people would consider a freak, which meant he fit right in with the Kid Pirates.

Even rarer still was that he was intact, you knew this because you'd heard him speak about his cock piercings. Usually omegas like him were forcefully mutilated at birth to remove the ‘unwanted’ penis, an abhorrent practice that his parents had thankfully disagreed with. You hadn't seen Heat naked but you knew what his kind of omega looked like intact, he had a vaginal opening and female reproductive system, but instead of a clit he had a penis and no testicles. His body presented during puberty as a strong alpha male despite the omega cycle and scent, and while most omegas in his situation went by she/her, Heat identified as a man and went by he/him.

This contrasted with yourself, as an intersex alpha. It was something you and Heat bonded over, both being a rarity as well as identifying against the social norm. When you were born you looked by all accounts like a standard male, and when your scent glands began to develop it was clear you were an alpha. So when puberty hit and your body had filled out to smooth curves, your breasts had grown large and your skin and hair had stayed soft, it was a great dismay to your proud alpha father. The treatment of intersex alphas was far less problematic than the omega counterpart, since it didn't present till puberty, but most of your kind would be forced into unwanted top surgery and hormone replacement so they could fit society's image of what an alpha should be. You'd never really felt like a boy though, so you quickly started identifying as a woman and ended up running away from home at fifteen to avoid your father who was growing more threatening by the day. By law, as a minor at the time, he could have forced you to get the surgery and treatment against your will, so leaving was your only safe option. You skipped between pirate crews for several years until you met Heat and bonded over your similarities, joining the Kid Pirates and their band of freaks (affectionate) that made you feel so comfortable and loved regardless of your presentation.

“Just ask some of the girls for meds,” Kid huffed, “I don't see the issue here”

“They have a different kind to me,” Heat pouted, he hated being reminded of his differences even if his friends didn't care about them, “I'm not… normal… nobody has the right kind for me”

“How long do you have?” You asked carefully, grabbing his hand as he passed to still him and soothe him with gentle swipes of your thumb over the back of his hand, pushing out calming pheromones that made him shiver but lowered his heart rate. You were the only one he was okay with doing this, it made him feel emasculated when the other men did it, but if it was you it just felt affectionate, just a friend calming a friend, not an alpha subduing an omega.

“Till morning, probably,” he sighed, looking at where your hands met and letting your scent soothe him, “I usually take them at night so I'll probably go into pre-heat while I'm asleep”

“So pick an alpha,” Kid rolled his eyes, bored of this. He didn't really understand what the issue was. Omegas go into heat, alphas take care of them, what's the fuss? “I don't want you clawing at my door when you're out of your mind, pick someone while you're coherent”

“He's right, Heat,” Wire agreed, “there's no avoiding it. You're gonna go into heat one way or another, you can either beg one of us when you're not in your right mind and probably regret it after, or just give in and let one of us take care of you. It's just nature, you know none of us are gonna think less of you for it”

Heat groaned in annoyance but he knew they were both right. He didn't want to be in pain on his own for three days, he had four friends all willing to take care of him, he just had to swallow his pride and pick someone. Looking down at where your hands were still connected, the choice was easy, and he looked at you with pleading eyes.

“Okay,” you said softly, immediately accepting his wordless request. It didn't come as a surprise, you had a feeling letting one of the men service him would make him hate himself afterwards. It was different with you, you understood his insecurities better than they ever could. “You wanna build your nest and stay with me tonight?”

He nodded shyly and sat beside you, finally calmed from his anxious episode. You let out more soothing pheromones and he let his torso fall against you, your fingers scratching his scalp reassuringly. “It's gonna be okay Heat, I'll take care of you” He hummed in response and let you rub his arm, giving in to the comfort you offered.

“I'll bring water and food to your room while he's building his nest,” Killer offered and you nodded in affirmation.

“Come on Heat, no time like the present,” you sighed, pushing him to stand. He let you lead him quietly to your room where you opened a cupboard full of scented nesting materials for him, rubbing his back reassuringly before helping him move the things he pulled out to the bed. You were well set for omegas, probably the most prepared of all the alphas on board, as the other girls all felt most comfortable with you during their heats. They still went to the others on occasion, but you were the one to go to if they craved softness. You even had a mini fridge and your own bathroom to easily take care of any needs while you were locked away with them, as did the other alphas on board, Kid, Killer and Wire.

Heat looked depressingly defeated as he arranged soft blankets and pillows in the corner of the room where you'd pulled out the small mattress that lived under your bed, building a protective, comforting nest in the corner, letting his instincts take over as he chose colours and textures that appealed uniquely to him. You dared not interrupt, nest building was sacred for omegas, but you sat nearby on your bed, so he knew you were there in support if he needed you. Killer brought up food and water for three days and you thanked him, setting it in the fridge and bidding him farewell before locking the door. It would be several days before either of you emerged, and keeping it locked with the seastone latch ensured no other alphas would catch his scent and go into a frenzy to get to him. Mostly Kid, he had a sensitive nose and very poor impulse control, and it had led to a few very physical fights between alphas before locks had been installed. An alpha under the influence of an omega's heat scent could fight to the death if it came to it to protect the omega, and it could get very ugly, very quickly.

He curled up in the nest with a sigh as he deemed it complete, looking up at you with forlorn eyes and reaching out one hand. You slid into the nest beside him, letting him nestle into you so his face was buried against your scent gland, your arms wrapped protectively around him.

“Are you gonna mark me?” He asked nervously.

“No, I'm not,” you assured him. Alphas were known to take advantage of omegas during their cycles, forcing claiming bonds onto them when they weren't in the headspace to deny it. “I'm not an aggressive alpha, I won't do that to you”

“What if… what if I want you to?” He asked softly. The question took you by surprise.

“Heat baby, just because you're having a cycle doesn't mean you need an alpha all the time,” you cooed, “you're so strong and independent, you're okay on your own. If you want me to claim you, I will in a heartbeat, you know how much I care about you. But I don't want you asking for it just because you're feeling vulnerable right now. If you still want it after your cycle, I'll give it to you, but not right now”

“Okay,” Heat mumbled sleepily as you pulled a blanket over the two of you, feeling more comfortable now at your assurances. Eventually you were able to get him to sleep, Heat making no complaints as you pumped out soothing pheromones to lull him, keeping him calm while his own scent reeked of anxiety and distress. You felt for him, what he was about to go through was a detriment to his entire identity and would no doubt leave him feeling ashamed and dysphoric once it was over. All you could do was keep him calm, take care of him through his heat, and hope you would be able to emotionally support him properly afterwards.

⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆

Heat was living up to his name when he woke you the next day, sweating from how scorching hot his skin was, his scent ripe with pheromones and making your mouth unconsciously water. Your teeth clamped together on instinct, biting at air as you inhaled the thick scent and tried to get your wits about you. Heat was clawing at your clothes, trying to undress you before your eyes were even properly open, his own clothes already shed and his cock painfully hard. “Need~” he whined, “need you”

“It's okay Heat, I've got you,” you cooed, pushing him onto his back and kneeling between his thighs, even as you still blinked the sleep from your eyes. You stifled a yawn and shook your head, trying to shake the heaviness of sleep, while Heat spread his legs and squirmed, slick already dripping from him and dampening the blanket underneath him. The sweet smell of it was so alluring, your dick twitching to life. You leant down and wrapped one hand around his cock, making him yelp from how sensitive he was despite your gentleness. You held it out of the way as you pumped him slowly, bringing your mouth to his cunt and pressing your tongue inside him where you knew he needed you. You'd never serviced an intersex omega but you could only assume that it would be the same as the girls, but instead of a clit you had a cock to stimulate. It was still a two part affair as it was with full female omegas, so you were confident you could make him feel good. Perhaps even better than the females, since you had experience with your own cock.

Heat moaned and pulled at your hair as you thrust your tongue in and out of him, clear precum dripping from his cock. Much like a full male alphas after a vasectomy, intersex omegas could cum, but without testicles their release was mostly clear and unable to impregnate, ensuring they could not accidentally impregnate themselves. You ran your thumb over the tip of his cock, spreading the precum down his shaft and using it to lubricate him as you pumped at a rate that matched the speed of your tongue. You knew he couldn't be properly satisfied without being knotted, but you felt more comfortable getting him off at least once first so you knew you wouldn't hurt him when you did penetrate him.

It didn't take long at all for him to cum, so very pent up and needy, slick gushing from his pussy and coating your tongue as you swallowed it down with a groan, rutting your cock into the blankets below at the sweet taste that was unique to him as his own cock spilled ropes of thin liquid, dribbling over your knuckles and wetting his pale blue public hair. “Good boy Heat,” you cooed, licking him and your hand clean, making kitten licks up his still hard cock, your dick throbbing at the sight of him wet and squirming, desperate for your knot.

“Br-hnng-bre-ed me-e,” he stuttered, reaching for you, an arm draped over his eyes, unable to bring himself to look at you as he made the request.

“I'll give you what you want baby,” you purred, rubbing your hands over his thighs, “you wanna do it like this or you wanna roll over?”

Heat whined and rolled onto his front, arching his back and sticking his ass in the air to present it to you the way his instincts told him to. Right now he was at their mercy, and they were screaming submit, submit, submit. “Good boy, Heat, you're doing so good,” you assured, rubbing his back as you pumped yourself a few times and lined yourself up, “gonna give you what you need now kay?”

“Please,” he cried, backing himself into you to force you sink into him faster, making you let out a small hiss while he moaned at the feeling of being filled, “need it, need your knot”

“I know Heat,” you held his hips firm but not painfully hard as you began thrusting into him, “gonna make you feel better okay? Just hold on a little longer, I'll be as quick as I can”

“Use me,” he whined, “use my hole, breed me, knot me”

“Fuck, Heat,” you moaned. You were used to omegas saying filthy things during their cycle but to hear it from Heat, a man so much larger and stronger than you, was sending electricity straight to your dick. “Good boy, such a good boy, taking me so well”

Heat was balling the blankets below him into tight fists, throwing himself back at you to set a much harsher pace than you intended, forcing you to fuck him much harder. You leaned forward and reached around him, making him almost scream as you took his cock in your hand and pumped it at the same rough pace, quickly putting him over the edge and letting out a shrill cry that the whole ship no doubt heard as he came, shooting ropes of clear fluid over the blankets and dripping slick in a near constant flow that ran down his thighs and pooled at his knees. His cunt clamped down around you and you moaned as you felt your knot swell, panting hard as it popped and you unloaded inside him, Heat kneading at the blankets like a cat and purring as you filled his cunt with a heavy load of hot viable cum. After his heat he'd be given a tonic to keep him from falling pregnant, but for now you would continue to fill him as much as you physically could till he was sated and his body deemed him properly bred.

“Good boy Heat,” you panted, rubbing his back, “you did so good baby, I'm gonna move you now okay? We're gonna go to your left so you can lay down while I deflate, alright?”

Heat whined as you guided him to lay on his side, wrapping your arms around him and pressing kisses against his back. You heard the whimper of a cry as his scent turned foul with sadness, and you replied with your own soothing scent. “You're okay baby, you're okay,” you cooed, squeezing him tight, “you're no less a man, okay? This is just natural, you're just doing what your body needs. Just a few days and we'll get you your meds and you won't have to do this again okay? Be brave my love, can you do that for me?”

Heat sniffed and his head shifted as he nodded, twisting his fingers to interlock with yours over his stomach as his crying came under control. As soon as your knot deflated enough to pull out you turned him to face you and held him close to your chest, a fresh wave of tears washing over him as he pressed his nose against your scent gland desperately to release more of your comforting scent. You rubbed his back and let him get the feelings out, your heart hurting to see him in such a sorry state.

Once his tears settled you convinced him to let you go, retrieving food and water for both of you and returning to the nest to hold him while he ate slowly, having not much appetite given his current depressed mood. You kept him close afterwards so he could fall back asleep feeling safe and protected, both of you needing to save your energy before the next wave of the heat came along.

⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆

It was towards the end of day three, the room thick with the smell of sex, both of you exhausted and covered in bruises and scratches and love bites, Heat laying with his head on your chest as you sang quietly to him and scratched his scalp. You'd barely just removed your knot after the last round, cum still dripping from his overfilled cunt.

“I think it might be over,” he sighed with relief, “my head feels clearer”

“I'm glad,” you hummed, pressing a kiss to the back of his hand you'd been holding, “your skin feels like it's finally cooling, how are you feeling?”

“Sore, but content,” he breathed. His head moved to rest his chin on your breast, looking up at you with those perpetually sad eyes. “I think… I think I still want it”

“More sex?” You questioned, “like, just for fun?”

“I mean yes,” he blushed, “but… I mean… your bite”

“Ohhh,” you replied, “oh. You.. you want me? To be your permanent alpha?” Heat nodded shyly and sat up, pulling you with him. He bared his neck with a small needy whimper, and you hesitantly brushed his pale blue hair out of the way, heart racing. You'd never even considered claiming an omega. Intersex alphas were considered damaged goods, nobody wanted them. They were thought to be less viable, less strong, less capable of defending an omega and her young. You thought though, maybe Heat felt the same. This shared insecurity made your relationship with him stronger, made him more comfortable with opening himself up to be vulnerable with you. You could see the blood pulsing in his throat as he presented it to you, his scent gland slightly inflamed as an after effect of the heat, and you couldn't help but run your tongue over your sharp teeth.

“Please,” Heat whined, taking your hand and pulling you closer. You wove your fingers with his and held his hand, and he squeezed it hard as you sunk your teeth into his scent gland, your eyes rolling and your cock twitching back to life as you felt the bond ignite, not yet fully formed though. You licked the wound as you pulled your teeth out, baring your own neck and inviting Heat to lay his own claim. A bond from only an alpha's bite was still viable, often forced during a heat, strong enough on its own to make the omega dependent on the alpha. To allow the omega to bite back, to be vulnerable and allow them their own link to feel what you felt, was a great mark of respect, usually done between lovers. Heat eyes were wide with surprise, looking unsurely at your neck.

“Are you sure?” He asked nervously.

“Claim me, Heat,” you pulled him close, laying down so he was on top of you, giving him back his power, “I wanna be yours.”

Heat whined and kissed you hard, moving to straddle your hips and reaching down between your bodies so he could line himself up, your words and the fresh bond making him needy for you again, this time of his own free will. His hormones were no longer in control of him, he wanted you as much as you wanted him. Asking for your bite had been an act of self preservation, he didn't feel like he could ever feel so safe and loved with another alpha, so having you claim him ensured only you would ever take care of him if this ever happened again. With how sweet you'd been, he was considering ditching the suppressants all together, just so he could have you in his nest again. But you asking for his bite? It was practically a declaration of love, you may as well have proposed to him, and he was eager to return all of that affection in equal droves.

He swallowed your moans as he rode you, making love to you as you ran your hands over his body with gentle caresses, lost in his taste on your tongue and the feeling of his warm cunt embracing you. He only pulled his mouth away from yours to pant, both of you breathing heavily as you held each other tight and looked into each other's eyes, watching each other carefully, eyes deep and swimming with pools of love and devotion. His eyes closed for a moment as he pressed his forehead against yours.

“I'm close,” he groaned, hips losing momentum as his energy dissipated. You held his hips and thrust up into him, your own energy lacking but unable to stop yourself, powering through to bring you both to one last climax.

“Heat, claim me,” you whined, baring your neck invitingly for him, pulling him to you. You both let out harsh cries as his teeth sunk into your neck and the bond came to fruition, joint pleasure compounding through the link and crashing into you both like a freight train. You called each other's names as you both shook and came harder than you ever thought possible, your stomach wet with threads of Heat's thin cum as it released from his cock, abdomen drenched as he squirted on you, your knot popping inside him and locking your bodies together as you saw stars and painted his insides white. He collapsed against you, very nearly crushing you with his large frame, both of you twitching from aftershocks, which in turn would be felt by the other through the link and set of another aftershock, a chain reaction that left you both panting and writhing till you were able to pull out of him and lay him beside you.

You could feel his love through the bond as you looked at him, his eyes closed and face relaxed with content, feeling safe beside you. You held him close, his arms wrapping tightly around you, warm tingling felt through the mental link as you ran soft hands over each other's bodies, both feeling more accepted and loved than you could ever dream.

[sadhappylady]

So, I'm an angst lover, but someone asked for not angsty fics, and sometimes all you need is a laugh.

Humour is different for every person, and we don't always find the same things funny, but anyway, here are some fics that make me smile, giggle and/or laugh out loud:

Favourite funny YR fics

Mechanics of the heart by @the-amber-fox

Wille's car has a flat tire. First he's mad about it, then he meets Simon, the mechanic. Wille learns a good bit about the mechanics of his own heart.

One, two, three, four, five, sex on my mind by @pagegirlintraining and @the-amber-fox

When Wille first sees Simon, the rest of the world simply fades away. Which would be romantic and all, if it didn’t lead to him blindly stumbling into the sex shop Simon works at.

open heart open mind, never know who you'll find by simonscrown

Wille deliberated whether he should be thanking the universe or cursing at it that a literal angel was standing in front of him, while his testicles were being tortured by a pair of objectively horrible booty shorts.

5 times the students of Hillerska didn't realize Wille and Simon were together + 1 time they definitely did by @piebingo

That title really says it all. And it's fun!

Copy and Pasta by @pagegirlintraining

In which Wille just wants to make a nice birthday present for his boyfriend and gets sidetracked by the flu.

Coast side universe by @starvalisedham

Angst-free stories that are loosely connected. You don't need to read everything to enjoy each fic, but it helps with understanding some of the jokes and references. Hillerska ships Wilmon but they are so done with their antics. (So much funny silliness.)

Change It And Say by Skydragon05

Henry is being a mess, while trying not to cockblock anyone.

Bathroom Stall Blowjobs by MarvellKya17 and @thehanwen

Based on true events … two bathrooms… two blowjobs… a two part story about love – and getting caught in the bathroom giving a bj.

You Have Reached the Voicemail Box of... by @zee-has-commitment-issues

Two years. They'd kept their relationship away from the Forest Ridge boys for two years. Henry and Walter have different plans for Wille and Simon, though. It involves the table, their phones, and their mothers. It's humiliating.

Stuck on me like a tattoo by TheWittyKitty

What if Simon got a tattoo? With someone's name?

Drop It Like It's Hot by @the-amber-fox

Simon proposes, Wille kind of fucks it up.

A Dutiful Welcome by @groenendaelfic

His Majesty The King of Sweden and his very male, very biracial Consort arrive in London for a state visit. YR/RWRB crossover where 'dear cousin Philip' has thoughts.

Please also share your own funny YR fics 🙏

[gimmethatagustd]

the heart nebula (1) | kth + pjm

♡ Summary: It has been a year since Jimin and Taehyung started dating, and they still haven't slept together. Jimin thinks they haven't because Taehyung doesn't want him; Taehyung thinks Jimin won't want him if they do. (Or, the one where Jimin is Taehyung's moon, and Taehyung is from the stars.)

♡ Pairing: Taehyung x Jimin

♡ Words: 8,039

♡ Rating: Explicit

♡ Genre: Science fiction, established relationship, angst, smut, fluff

♡ Warnings: Talking about outer space is both sexy and romantic (i bet you didn't know that), taehyung has tentacles or whateva, relationship insecurity, self-esteem issues, misunderstandings, sexual tension, making out, taehyung in grey sweatpants

♡ Post Date: September 16, 2024

♡ Notes: The number of times my brain tried to get me to write “testicles” instead of “tentacles” was unreal.

♡ Masterlist ♡ AO3 Crosspost 

♡ series masterlist ♡

Jimin’s parents hadn’t wanted him to move in with Taehyung. Some of Jimin’s friends also questioned what seemed like a hasty decision, though most were supportive.

Jimin finds it all rather ridiculous. Sure, he understands how big of a step moving in with someone is, and he knows that some people consider one year far too early to be taking significant steps in a relationship, but he doesn’t care. 

Anyone with reservations hasn’t spent enough time around Taehyung. If they had, then they wouldn’t have harassed Jimin over if he really wanted to do this.

Jimin was the one who had brought up the conversation about moving in, anyway. It was Taehyung who had been hesitant. Jimin can’t blame Taehyung for it; he knows their relationship is the only serious one Taehyung has ever had.

Although they haven’t spoken extensively of their past relationships, Taehyung being one of the most private people Jimin has ever met, Jimin knows that he has been Taehyung’s first for a lot of things— like saying “I love you" and moving in together — all significant steps that Jimin has taken before with other partners and forgets that not all twenty-eight-year-olds have taken them, too.

Taehyung is anything but hesitant now as he drops a cardboard box onto the bed beside where Jimin sits with his legs crossed and his hands in his lap.

It's impressive how strong Taehyung is despite his lean, unsuspecting figure. He nearly single-handedly carried all of Jimin’s belongings from their rented moving truck up the four flights of stairs to his apartment unit. Jimin had felt silly following behind Taehyung with an occasional plant or lighter box cradled in his arms.

“T-shirts and shorts folded, everything else hung?” Taehyung asks as he refolds one of the t-shirts packed in the cardboard box.

He doesn’t look up from his work, so he misses the affectionate smile that Jimin directs at him.

“Yup! I’m surprised you noticed that,” Jimin says, biting the tip of his tongue between his teeth in a teasing kind of way Taehyung loves.

Jimin’s comment causes Taehyung to look up and roll his eyes. 

“Ah, you act like I don’t pay attention to you.” He grabs a second t-shirt and ignores the tongue Jimin sticks out at him. “You should be nice to me. I’m handling the worst part of moving for you.”

"Oh, really?" Jimin taunts, sitting back with his hands pressed behind him to prop himself up as he watches Taehyung carry the neatly folded t-shirts into the walk-in closet in his—  their  —bedroom. "And what part is that?" he asks.

“Unpacking!” Taehyung’s voice sounds muffled; he’s likely bent over, putting away the t-shirts in the dresser drawers.

Unpacking is the worst, aside from all the manual labor that goes into the literal act of moving. The dark strands of Jimin's hair are gathered into a neat ponytail on top of his head, keeping his face cool after sweating all morning. 

Mornings are supposed to be cooler, but the late-summer heat is relentless at any hour. Jimin is lucky that Taehyung isn’t stingy with his electricity bill and lets Jimin crank up the air conditioning. They’ll be splitting their utility bills from now on, anyway. That little detail is such an adult thing, not even exciting, considering it’s just paying bills, but it makes Jimin giddy because from now on, it’s  Jimin and Taehyung. 

They’ve always fit each other well like they were meant to have found each other despite being tiny, insignificant specks in a grand universe. Their hearts knew, but now that they'll live together, they're ready to show the world it’s them. It’s always going to be them, Jimin hopes.

"You look exhausted, little moon," Taehyung murmurs when he returns from the closet and finds Jimin curled up on his side, embracing a large body pillow. The pillow is shaped like a mandu with a whimsical face, and its smile mirrors Jimin's.

“I’m not,” Jimin says with a yawn that he tries to hide behind the pillow.

He buries the bottom half of his face in the soft fabric and squeezes the plushie against his chest. Taehyung won the pillow for Jimin while playing a game at a local festival. It happened on their cliche first date just over a year ago. 

Jimin will never forget the sparkle of the colorful lights reflecting in Taehyung’s eyes when he shyly admitted that he’d never been to a festival. His confession was both sad and confusing to Jimin. How could Taehyung have missed out on so many experiences that Jimin finds commonplace, even inconsequential? Jimin supposes that these are privileges he never took the time to be grateful for.

“Oh, my little moon, what a sneaky thing he is,” Taehyung playfully chastises Jimin with a boxy smile. “What will I do with him?”

Little moon, my moon, pretty moon  — Taehyung gave Jimin the nickname early in their relationship. Unconventional and romantic, it's somehow just as perfect a reflection of Jimin’s beauty as it is a reflection of Taehyung's quirky personality that drew Jimin to him in the first place.

Jimin shifts to the edge of the bed where Taehyung is standing, both forgetting about the half-unpacked box of clothing and other trinkets that Jimin had hastily thrown into it in a moment of last-minute packing panic.

“Give him kisses, maybe?” Jimin looks up at Taehyung with wide eyes and juts out his plush bottom lip.

“Hmm… kisses, the only universal currency.”

Jimin smiles in response, understanding Taehyung so well but never quite knowing what might come out of his mouth next. His breath hitches when Taehyung runs his fingers through the hair at his temple, gripping the strands gently but firmly.

The way Taehyung treats Jimin is tender. While he refers to Jimin as his moon, he handles him delicately, as if aware of his mortality.

Life is promised to no one, and Jimin feels that's why Taehyung's lips meet his with deliberate slowness. Taehyung's touch sends electricity through Jimin's being, and his lips shock him with an energizing current that galvanizes his soul.

Parting his lips, Jimin flicks his tongue against Taehyung’s top lip. Taehyung always opens up to him without fail, being so obedient and giving. Jimin curls his fingers around the collar of Taehyung’s t-shirt and lets out a quiet moan when Taehyung gives again, following Jimin onto the bed with his hands pressed into the mattress above Jimin’s shoulders and his knees between Jimin’s legs.

It’s good, so good, having Taehyung close, but it’s never enough. Taehyung hovers above Jimin so that no part of his body touches him aside from their lips and the brush of their noses bumping into each other.

It isn’t that Jimin is frustrated. He loves Taehyung and greedily takes whatever he can get from him, but he would be lying if he said he didn’t crave more. It has been a year, and they still haven’t had sex or any physical intimacy beyond making out. Jimin hasn’t even seen Taehyung naked yet.

Hesitantly, Jimin bends his right leg and presses it against Taehyung's side. When Taehyung doesn't react, Jimin goes further by hooking his leg around Taehyung's waist. The pressure he applies to Taehyung's lower back is light enough for Taehyung to resist, but it's clear that Jimin wants to pull him in.

He wants so badly, so badly he needs it. He needs to feel Taehyung’s body on his, to feel Taehyung’s hips spread his legs and press into his thighs. He wants to feel, touch, and taste…

Taehyung’s hand is warm when he cups the back of Jimin’s thigh, bare skin on display from his athletic shorts riding up his legs. Slowly, he unhooks Jimin’s leg from his waist and lowers it onto the bed.

“Tae,” Jimin sighs as the familiar heaviness of disappointment settles on his chest where he wishes Taehyung’s weight could be instead.

Taehyung's smile is small but warm. He kneels between Jimin's legs with one hand still on Jimin's thigh, caressing his soft skin.

“We should order food. Your stomach is grumbling,” Taehyung says as he taps his fingers against Jimin’s thigh. 

Taehyung isn’t a liar, but Jimin never believes him whenever he pulls away like this. There’s always some excuse, something that comes up, something, something, something. Jimin and Taehyung get so close, and then something.

“Fried chicken?” Jimin asks, and he can’t suppress a smile when Taehyung’s eyes light up.

Jimin is Taehyung’s little moon, and Jimin knows that Taehyung is his little star, a smattering of twinkling constellations that remind Jimin that there’s more out there in the world than he can ever fathom.

It still hurts, though, when Taehyung pulls away. Taehyung's attention is drawn to his phone as he searches for their favorite restaurant to order delivery while Jimin flops back onto the bed.

Jimin is all too aware of the strain against the waistband of his shorts that will go unresolved until later when he's alone in the shower with his bottom lip crushed between his teeth and only one man on his mind.

“If I was a constellation, which one would I be?” Jimin asks one Sunday evening.

Jimin and Taehyung are in their living room, surrounded by cardboard boxes. Taehyung is on the couch with a box at his feet, while Jimin sits on the floor in the middle of the room. Taehyung stops mid-motion, his hands gripping the folds of the cardboard box as he opens it. With a furrowed brow, he looks up, his intense eyes meeting Jimin's across the room. His heavy gaze makes Jimin feel like Taehyung is delving into the depths of his soul, searching for the correct answer.

Jimin had assumed he was asking something silly, just a fun thought exercise to explore while they unpack the decorations they plan on putting up in the living room. It's been three months since they moved in, and their apartment is still cluttered with boxes and half-finished efforts to integrate Jimin's influence on Taehyung's space. Many of Jimin’s friends have said it could take a whole year before they finish unpacking. Jimin sincerely hopes that isn’t the case.

A few seconds pass before Taehyung returns to sorting through the canvases in his box and replies, “Cassiopeia.”

Why is Taehyung's extensive knowledge of outer space so attractive? Jimin can feel his face growing warm, and he's sure his cheeks have turned a rosy pink. It might be Taehyung's intellect or the authority with which he speaks. Or it's simply that Taehyung feels like he knows Jimin so well, and being understood feels good, even if Jimin has no idea what it means.

“Who is Cassiopeia?” Jimin clears his throat before asking, hoping his voice doesn't give away his flustered state.

“In Greek mythology, she was a queen who was chained to a throne in the sky by Poseidon for being vain after she claimed that either she or her daughter were more beautiful than the sea nymphs.” Taehyung’s lips quirk as he speaks, struggling to fight off a grin when Jimin releases an appalled gasp.

“Are you accusing me of being vain?”

Losing his battle, Taehyung flashes Jimin a lopsided grin as he stands from the couch. He selects one of the canvases from his box and picks up a hammer and nails from the coffee table.

“No, little moon,” Taehyung ruffles Jimin’s silky hair as he walks past him to the opposite side of the living room. “Inside Cassiopeia is the Heart Nebula, located 7,500 light-years from Earth. It's shaped like a heart and glows red because it’s filled with ionized hydrogen gas.”

Skeptically, Jimin reaches for his phone, which sits on the coffee table beside the little box of nails. Sometimes Taehyung is so intelligent about such random things that Jimin wonders if he’s actually bullshitting him.

A quick Google search proves that Taehyung is a genius and never a liar, and Jimin loses himself in a gallery of high-definition photographs of the Heart Nebula, glowing pink against a black galaxy speckled with other stars and space things Jimin doesn’t understand.

“It’s beautiful,” Jimin says, pointing to his phone to show Taehyung that he looked up the nebula online.

Standing at the far wall, Taehyung smiles over his shoulder. It only takes a few hits of the hammer on the nail to be the appropriate length to hang the first painting.

“You are my moon, but also my heart, Jiminie,” Taehyung says with a wink and a blown kiss that Jimin pretends to shoo away.

“Ahhh, why are you so corny!” Jimin only complains so he can act like Taehyung doesn’t render him breathless.

Taehyung shrugs and crosses the room to pick a new canvas from the box. Most of the paintings are ones that Taehyung created for Jimin as gifts, and a few are matching artworks they created together during painting date nights. Jimin had the paintings scattered across his old apartment. It’s nice to see them have a new home next to Taehyung’s other things, right where they belong.

“Thank you for putting these up,” Jimin says after Taehyung empties the box of paintings. They’ve nearly run out of space on the living room walls, but there are plenty more rooms for overflow if needed.

“Of course, heart,” Taehyung teases the new nickname. It’s cute despite being corny.

Jimin leans back on his palms, legs crossed, and stares up at Taehyung as he breaks down the cardboard box.

“What would I do without you?”

“Continue on living, silly.” Taehyung pretends to tap Jimin on top of the head with the flattened box.

“Would I?” Jimin asks as he stares up at Taehyung. He would be sparkly-eyed if it weren’t for his squinted eyes from how deeply he’s smiling. “Do you think I could handle hammering anything into the wall? Look at me.”

With the hand that isn’t holding the flattened box, Taehyung grabs Jimin’s bicep, which he puts on display to demonstrate that he doesn’t have the muscle for home improvement.

“You look adorable,” Taehyung says with a light squeeze of his arm as he helps Jimin stand up. They both know Taehyung is the brawns and the brains in his relationship, even if he’s occasionally a little strange. Jimin fell in love with his quirks.

“Am I adorable enough to nail into the wall, too?” Jimin asks sweetly.

Sometimes, Jimin worries that he’s being too pushy with Taehyung. It’s a tricky line to balance, being horny as fuck for the love of your life and wanting to be respectful, all while having no idea if intimacy will ever happen. Two normal adults would just talk about it, but Jimin fears Taehyung’s response if he asks outright.

“Do you want me, Tae?” sounds like a terrifying question because there is a 50/50 chance the answer will be “ No. ”

So, instead, Jimin does precisely what he shouldn’t and keeps trying without asking clarifying questions that could save both of them from discomfort and potential heartbreak.

“What do you mean?” Taehyung gives Jimin a boxy smile, head cocked to one side in playful confusion.

With soft laughter, Jimin takes the flattened cardboard box from Taehyung’s hands and tosses it onto the floor. Taehyung’s hands belong on his hips, fingers digging into the warm skin exposed by his sweatpants hanging low on Zhis hips.

“Oh, Taehyung-ah, you know. Nail me,” Jimin repeats gently, with an innocence that sharply contrasts how he uses Taehyung’s hands on his hips to pull them closer, closing the gap until he feels all of Taehyung’s body pressed against his.

Taehyung is firm with muscles but still soft in the spots that matter. It isn’t like Jimin never touches Taehyung; they hug often, and Taehyung likes to be the big spoon at night, but it isn’t the same as a moment like this when Jimin is so pent up with desire that he practically trembles with it.

Then there are those moments when Taehyung gives Jimin hope, like now, when his fingers flex against Jimin’s waist, tightening his grip. The response may be a reflex or a nervous fidget, or it might be that Taehyung wants Jimin. Is that so bad to want? To be wanted?

Jimin doesn’t think so, but sometimes he wonders.

“Nail you?”

“Against the wall.” Jimin leans into Taehyung, squeezing his biceps and lifting up on his toes to whisper in his ear. “You’re strong, babe. I think you could handle me.”

It’s cute how red Taehyung’s ears grow beneath his shaggy, mousy brown hair. There’s a slight flush to his tan cheeks, as well, something rosy and pretty, and Jimin realizes he’s not sure he’s ever seen Taehyung embarrassed before. Usually, he almost immediately backs out of intimacy with precision and finesse. Today, though, he stares at Jimin’s bitten lips and takes deep, shaky breaths.

“Tae,” Jimin murmurs as he brings his lips to the edge of Taehyung’s jaw. Each kiss along his jaw elicits another deep inhale until Taehyung’s breathing hitches and catches in his throat.

“Yes, moon?”

Sliding his hands up Taehyung’s biceps until he can wrap his arms around his shoulders, Jimin pulls Taehyung down slightly, just enough to speak against his lips in an almost kiss.

Taehyung’s eyes are squeezed shut, and his pretty lips are parted. His breathing isn’t quite a pant, but it’s breathy enough to make Jimin’s entire body erupt into goosebumps when he turns his face slightly, and Jimin feels his hot breath on the side of his neck.

“Kiss me, please,” Jimin’s lips brush Taehyung’s cheek, and he asks only half of the request that’s burning his chest, waiting to come out.

Jimin knows exactly what he wants to say but can’t bring himself to do it. It feels too monumental to ask for intimacy when the possibility of Taehyung getting spooked is so high.

Surprisingly, Taehyung doesn’t say another word. Keeping one hand on Jimin’s waist, Taehyung cups the back of Jimin’s head with his other hand, supporting him as he tilts to meet Taehyung’s lips. Like always, Taehyung gives when Jimin wants to take. He opens his mouth at the first nibble of his bottom lip, letting Jimin slip his tongue inside and meet him with the tip of his own. The kiss feels desperate and urgent, as though they’ve been starved of each other. Jimin supposes in a way they have, though he never thought Taehyung cared that their intimacy never went beyond a sensual kiss.

It’s easy to surrender to whatever this is. Jimin doesn’t care why Taehyung is rocking against him, letting Jimin shift so his thigh is between Taehyung’s legs. Maybe he’ll care later when they’re no longer panting into each other’s mouths, and Jimin doesn’t have his hands tangled in Taehyung’s hair. For now, Jimin has a one-track mind that he can’t shake, especially when he realizes something that makes him weak in the knees.

Taehyung is hard. Jimin can feel him through his loose pajama pants where Taehyung’s cock is pressed against Jimin’s thigh. He doesn’t dare look down at what he knows will be a prominent bulge partially masked by the checkered print of Taehyung’s pants.

Jimin would be a liar if he said he hadn’t thought about Taehyung's body, but now that Jimin feels Taehyung's cock pressed against his thigh, warm and thick, he realizes Taehyung is much more than Jimin expected.

Taehyung kisses him like he has been waiting for his whole life, and Jimin considers how possible that may be. They joke that they’re soulmates, but the more Jimin learns about Taehyung, the more he feels connected to him in a way he hasn’t felt with anyone else. It’s cliche, but anything Jimin feels deeply enough to make his heart ache is worth paying attention to.

But when Jimin’s hope for more than just a kiss reaches its peak, Taehyung pulls away.

“Your parents,” Taehyung pauses to clear his throat, “we need to get everything put together before they get here.”

Jimin opens his eyes only to narrow them immediately, eyebrows scrunched together and wrinkles lining his forehead.

“What?” he asks, out of breath. “They’re coming next week. We have plenty of time.”

Taehyung still holds Jimin’s waist, one thumb hooked around the waistband of his well-worn basketball shorts. It isn’t a sexual touch, just a way to keep Jimin close, but Jimin feels Taehyung’s presence against his skin like a hot iron brand.

“Time means very little, almost nothing at all,” Taehyung sounds exasperated, as though he can’t understand why Jimin is making this more complicated than it needs to be.

Except Taehyung is the one not making sense.

“Okay…” Jimin says blankly as Taehyung takes a step back.

Taehyung grabs the flattened cardboard box and a few other recyclables to dispose of, leaving Jimin alone in the living room with a tight smile.

Jimin should be accustomed to this behavior by now, but each time, Taehyung somehow manages to cut a new wound in him that hurts worse than the last. There was a time when Jimin thought he was invincible, that it was him and Taehyung against the world. These days, he feels like he’s on the outside, looking in. If Jimin is Cassiopeia, Taehyung is 7,500 light-years away on Earth, looking at stars that may not actually exist anymore.

Jimin thinks having his parents in his and Taehyung's apartment feels weird. Their apartment is a sacred space where they can escape the world's expectations and judgment. Inviting Jimin's parents into their space is unavoidable and frustrating. Jimin loves his parents, but they are difficult.

Especially his mother.

"So, Taehyung, remind me, what is it that you do for work?"

When Jimin's mother asks the question, Jimin flinches and nearly drops the shot glass in his hand. Luckily, the thick glass only thuds against the kitchen counter. Taehyung and Jimin's parents turn around to look at Jimin, but he waves them off and returns to making their beverages.

As a bartender, Jimin is always volunteered by others to make drinks at parties and family gatherings. Tonight is no different, with his parents visiting his and Taehyung's apartment for the first time and meeting Taehyung.

Jimin realizes they should have gone out to dinner rather than cook at home. It's nearly ten o'clock at night, and his parents are asking for a second drink, looking far too comfortable in their spots at the kitchen table while they hold Taehyung hostage in his own house. 

It would be impolite for Jimin to kick his parents out of his apartment, but he doesn't know if he can survive another four hours with them. At least Taehyung isn't sweating through his dress shirt like Jimin is.

Clearing his throat, Taehyung adjusts his posture in his chair and answers Mrs. Park's question.

"I'm an aerospace engineer for the Korea Aerospace Administration, eomeonim," he is polite, perhaps more than necessary.

"Is that so?"

Jimin stands with his back to the kitchen table, tending to their drinks. He has known his mother for nearly thirty years; he can sense the exact expression on her face merely from the tone of her voice. The familiar scrutinizing look causes her to furrow her brows and purse her lips as if she's caught a whiff of something unpleasant. The look itself doesn't necessarily mean anything. It's her thinking face; the thoughts could be good or bad. It's what she says when wearing the expression that matters.

"Yes, eomeonim," Taehyung responds almost cooly, but Jimin isn't entirely paying attention.

"Looking at this apartment, I wouldn't assume you have such a prestigious career. What is your salary?"

"Eomma!" Jimin nearly drops the three glasses of somaek he's delicately carrying to the table.

Taehyung immediately stands up to help, but Jimin hushes him until he sits down again.

"What? I was merely curious." Mrs. Park's eyes widen with feigned naivety. Only the subtle twitch at the corner of her lips betrays her poorly crafted ruse.

"The apartment is modest," Mr. Park finally speaks up once he has had a sip of his drink. "There is nothing wrong with that. I respect a man who lives within his means and doesn't flaunt his wealth. Or degree, for that matter."

Despite the positivity, Mr. Park's comment feels like a dig at Jimin, who dropped out of college after a year. Unfortunately, Jimin knows he tends to overthink his parents' words and intentions. It isn't much use, but he can't stop himself.

"Taehyung is incredibly intelligent, one of the smartest people I know. But he is very humble," Jimin says as he returns to his seat at the table.

Taehyung and Mrs. Park sit at each end of the small table, with Jimin and Mr. Park across from each other on the sides. When Taehyung doesn't respond to Jimin's compliment, Jimin turns to look at him and frowns at the sight of Taehyung drinking his somaek entirely too quickly.

"Clearly," Mrs. Park agrees, though Jimin doesn't understand what she means, "and what are your future plans, Taehyung? Do you want to remain in Seoul long-term? I assume you aren't from here, considering your satoori."

Jimin bites his bottom lip and avoids Taehyung's gaze, though he realizes Taehyung isn't looking at him anyway. His mother has always been invasive; Jimin supposes most parents are when meeting their child's significant other for the first time. It's just hard to watch, knowing that Taehyung is a very private person.

"I grew up in a small town outside of Daegu," Taehyung says with a smile that doesn't brighten his face the way it usually does. 

He doesn’t answer Mrs. Park’s other questions. 

Mr. Park grunts at Taehyung’s reply, going on a little tangent about a good friend of his from Daegu. Jimin doesn't pay attention, already knowing the friend his father is talking about. Instead, he watches Taehyung, who is unusually quiet and still. Jimin wants to blame Taehyung's standoffish attitude on nerves, but it feels like something more. Despite his polite language and concise answers to even the most probing questions, Taehyung comes across as apathetic, even cold. He isn’t making an effort to lighten the mood, even though Jimin already prepped him for what being around his parents would be like, particularly his mother. Before Jimin’s parents arrived, he and Taehyung had agreed to have each other’s backs and to stay positive. Now, Taehyung won’t even look at Jimin.

The confusing tension Jimin feels strumming between him and Taehyung – tension he isn't even sure Taehyung notices – snaps when Taehyung abruptly stands from the table after Mrs. Park asks him about his past love life.

"Please excuse me," Taehyung mumbles and avoids everyone's gaze as he rushes out of the kitchen without a second look.

With his nostrils flared, Jimin stares his mother down as they hear the bedroom door slam shut. 

“Eomma.” Jimin doesn’t say anything else. If he tries to articulate his thoughts, he may be the most disrespectful he has ever been to his mother. Even though she may deserve it, Jimin was raised too proper for that.

"All I asked was if he had been in a serious relationship before this," Mrs. Park sniffles and pats her cheeks with the corner of her napkin as if there are tears to be dried.

“Eomma,” Jimin repeats with frustration, “you shouldn’t ask someone a question like that.” 

The fake tears are quickly forgotten when Mrs. Park narrows her eyes at Jimin. “Jimin, I just want what's best for you, and I don’t feel confident that Taehyung is. He is not right.”

Jimin takes a deep breath as the room tilts. His mother continues talking and complaining, and his father chimes in to likely lessen the blow of his mother’s words, but everything sounds like Jimin is underwater. He doesn’t think he’s going to pass out, though he never has before. Everything is still in color. There’s no ringing in his ears or spots in his vision. He can’t breathe, though. It’s as if there’s a hole in him, a leak somewhere, and each breath is air that passes straight through his lungs without bringing him any sense of calm.

“Taehyung is just different,” Jimin whispers through the tightness in his chest. “Different isn’t bad. He just… he has a different way of thinking, eomma, and he’s shy. He was nervous to meet you.” 

Mrs. Park scoffs, “How am I supposed to accept him into this family when he can’t even be polite?”

What hurts the most is that there is truth to her words. Jimin thinks back to the tension between him and Taehyung the day before. It’s always the same: Jimin seeks a connection Taehyung won’t give him, and Jimin wonders if it means Taehyung doesn’t want him. Is that what everything comes down to? Is Jimin fighting for a partner who doesn’t even want him? 

“Different isn’t bad,” Jimin repeats as if saying it again might convince her. It sounds more like he’s trying to convince himself. 

Jimin’s parents leave by midnight. At some point, Taehyung returned from the bedroom, quietly apologizing. Only Mr. Park paid the apologies any mind. 

Jimin doesn't speak to Taehyung after his parents leave. Jimin goes through his routine in silence. He deliberately avoids looking at his reflection in the bathroom mirror as he changes into his pajamas and washes and moisturizes his face. The sight of the frustration and self-doubt etched into the lines on his forehead and the deep creases that form around his mouth is too much to bear.

Ignoring Taehyung may seem unnecessarily cruel since the night wasn’t particularly great for either of them. The thing is, Taehyung ignores Jimin, too. Two wrongs don’t make a right, but Jimin doesn’t care. He’s tired of getting his feelings hurt and pretending it doesn’t matter. 

When Jimin and Taehyung first moved in together, Jimin felt like every night was a sleepover with his best friend. Now, Jimin just feels cold as he climbs into bed with Taehyung, who stares silently at the ceiling. 

“Goodnight, Tae,” Jimin mumbles as he reaches over to turn off the bedside lamp. 

If Taehyung responds, Jimin doesn’t hear him.

Jimin wakes up in the morning still pissed. Despite brushing his teeth the night before, he has a bad taste in his mouth, and a god-awful headache throbs in the middle of his forehead. Overall, it's a shitty way to start a Sunday morning.

When he gets out of bed, Jimin can hear the steady thump of music from down the hall. The sound is muffled by the closed door of their guest bedroom, which has recently been transformed into a workout room. Jimin rarely uses it, but when he does, he prefers peaceful yoga routines or guided meditation sessions from his favorite calming app. Taehyung utilizes the room far more often than Jimin and prefers more rigorous activities, such as weightlifting and cardio. 

Based on the beat of the music, it sounds like Taehyung is listening to a hip-hop playlist. Jimin knows that means he's doing cardio and probably woke up pissed off, too. Jimin hopes so; he doesn’t want to be the only one seething. He wants to slide down the hardwood floors of their hallway in his fuzzy socks pulled loose at the toes from being slept in, bust into the room with hell’s fury, and be met with Taehyung’s own fury, ready to combust with his. 

Instead, when Jimin flings the door open, he's greeted by Taehyung casually running on the treadmill as if nothing is wrong, as if the bullshit from the previous night never happened, as if meeting Jimin's parents and fucking everything up means nothing to him. It's as if he doesn't care at all.

Taehyung presses a few buttons on the treadmill, gradually slowing down to a leisurely walking pace. When he runs his fingers through his hair, Jimin is reminded that Taehyung is one of those insufferable people who seem to never sweat. For some reason, it makes Jimin even angrier.

"What is wrong with you?" Jimin raises his voice just enough to be heard over the music playing from the Bluetooth speaker.

Looking over his shoulder, Taehyung furrows his brows as his eyes scan Jimin, probably noticing his crumpled pajamas, unwashed face, disheveled bedhead, and arms folded tightly across his chest.

Taehyung hits the stop button on the treadmill. "What do you mean?"

"Obviously, there's something wrong, Taehyung,” Jimin scoffs and hates that he hears his mother in his own words. “It's either you or it's me. It's probably me. Am I really so repulsive to you? Do you really despise being with me to the point where you won’t touch me, won’t fuck me, barely even kiss me, can't even pretend to like my parents for just one night?" 

Taehyung steps off the treadmill but doesn’t move toward Jimin. They stare at each other from across the room, Jimin hovering in the doorway, Taehyung with one hand wrapped around the arm of the treadmill to steady himself. His face crumples as Jimin speaks, his frown melting into a pained expression Jimin has never seen on him before. 

"Little moon..." Taehyung starts, but Jimin interrupts him. 

"Don't call me that," Jimin snaps, blinking back unshed tears that burn the corners of his eyes. 

It isn’t fair how things have devolved so quickly. It has only been a few months of living together; Jimin thought being together would improve their relationship. He thought the insecurities and confusion would be resolved if they spent more time together. It doesn’t help that Taehyung’s hours at work are chaotic, and Jimin has revolving shifts at the restaurant bar he bartends at. It doesn’t help that Taehyung is so private, not letting Jimin around when he changes or showers. It doesn’t help that Taehyung has no family from which Jimin can learn and gain insight into Taehyung's life before meeting him.

Jimin thought they would be closer, but instead, he feels like he’s losing his mind. 

Taehyung’s expression softens, though he doesn’t look any less upset. It’s the most emotion Jimin has seen from him all weekend. 

"I don't hate being with you, Jimin."

Even though Jimin insisted that Taehyung call him by name, it still stings when he does. 

"So what is it then? You don't hate it; you just dislike it?" Jimin inhales sharply through his nose as he tries not to cry. "Do you even want me, Taehyung? Because I can't do this. I really can't."

Sighing, Taehyung lets go of the treadmill, reaching for his phone to turn off the music. Jimin thinks he will step toward him, but instead, Taehyung wraps his arms around his own torso. He embraces himself tightly as if holding himself together with his arms.

"You have no idea how much I want you," Taehyung says softly. The tender look in his eyes makes Jimin's heart crack even worse than it had when he watched pain twist Taehyung’s face. 

“Then what’s wrong?” Jimin quickly swipes his fingers across the apple of his cheek, gathering the few tears that have managed to escape. 

Taehyung's gaze darts to the floor. “I can’t tell you," he murmurs.

“Taehyung, I want to help you,” Jimin pleads. “I don’t understand what’s going on with you, but I want to help you, okay? Even if it’s me… if you don’t want me to be here, I’ll leave, okay? I just hate how… I just hate this.” 

It isn’t even about sex, not really. If Taehyung told Jimin right now that he never wanted to have sex, Jimin wouldn’t even care. He would hug him, tell him he loves him, and never bother him about it again. But not knowing why  Taehyung pulls away from Jimin and why he won’t even stick around to spend time with Jimin’s parents despite knowing how meaningful those relationships are to Jimin… 

All Jimin ever gets from Taehyung are evasive answers and forced smiles. It’s eating away at him. 

Taehyung lets his arms fall to his sides and gestures for Jimin to come closer. Jimin follows, drawn to Taehyung as always, their strings attached and stars aligned.

“Please don’t be upset with me,” Taehyung whispers. He keeps his eyes on the floor as he talks. “And please don’t be scared.” 

Scared? Jimin frowns so deeply that his head hurts, and it only worsens when Taehyung reaches over his shoulder to grab the back of his shirt and pull it over his head. 

“Why would I be scared of you, Tae?” 

Jimin watches Taehyung fold his t-shirt and hang it over the arm of the treadmill. The only thing scaring him is how strange Taehyung is behaving. 

Taehyung's eyes close for a moment as he takes a deep breath. Whatever he's about to reveal is causing him even more anxiety than the previous night's discomfort. Jimin can sense it; he can see how Taehyung holds his energy in his body, with slumped shoulders and a tight chest.

Rather than respond to Jimin’s question, Taehyung opens his eyes and stares into Jimin’s. He adjusts his posture to stand at his full height. Jimin watches the fear in his eyes and almost misses the movement behind him. 

“Jimin, I’m–” 

“What the f–” 

Jimin's breath catches in his throat as he stumbles backward, bumping into the sharp edge of the doorframe.

Two long tentacles emerge slowly from Taehyung’s back. They’re smooth with a slightly ridged underside and tapered, ending with a flexible, rounded tip. One wraps around Taehyung’s bicep while the other rests on Taehyung’s shoulder, the tip occasionally moving in a way that reminds Jimin of a cat curious about its surroundings. 

Jimin’s eyes flit from the tentacles to Taehyung’s face and the insecurity that etches wary lines in his expression. His heart quickens in his chest, fluttering and forcing his blood to rush into his ears. He hears nothing but his own heartbeat and sees nothing but tunnel vision that darkens everything around him aside from Taehyung with fucking tentacles. 

“What the fuck, Taehyung,” Jimin whispers, tilting his head back to rest against the wall. His legs are on the verge of giving out.

"I'm not from Daegu..." Taehyung admits, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I can fucking see that!"

Jimin's voice is high-pitched and followed by shaky laughter. Taehyung cringes. The tentacle wrapped around his bicep quickly shrinks back, retracting until only one tentacle is left. Jimin has the strange feeling that the tentacle is looking at him. 

"The Korea Aerospace Administration discovered my planet three years ago," Taehyung speaks slowly, never taking his eyes off Jimin's. “In exchange for a peace treaty, a group of scientists came to Earth to be studied.” 

A flicker of pain scrunches Taehyung’s expression, tightening his brow. He lets go of it quickly, but Jimin sees it and understands. Taehyung doesn’t need to explain further; what has happened is clear. Nothing good can possibly come out of being handed over to the government to be studied. Jimin can only imagine what experiments were forced upon these unknown people. Aliens. 

Taehyung is a fucking alien. 

Jimin opens his mouth, but he finds he can’t speak. He can hardly even exhale. His throat feels dry and stuck like it’s closed off. 

“I’m so sorry…” Taehyung breaks eye contact once more as the tips of his ears turn pink. 

The remaining tentacle touches the side of Taehyung’s face, just along the edge of his cheekbone, before pulling away to curl around his forearm. It looks like it’s… comforting him.

“I don’t know what to say,” Jimin confesses, his voice trembling.

Taehyung responds with a forced smile aimed at the floor. 

“I won’t blame you for thinking I’m a monster. I am, at least, on Earth. At home, I’m just a regular guy,” Taehyung says with a dark chuckle. “I have a mother who complains that I haven’t given her offspring yet. My father is a scientist, too. I grew up wanting to be like him.” Taehyung looks up at Jimin again, this time with wide, pleading eyes. “My little sister is still in school. We have school, just like here. She wants to be a teacher of human studies. She finds all of you fascinating.” 

Tears slip down Jimin’s ruddy cheeks, trailing along his cheekbone to travel his jawline. He doesn’t wipe them away; more will come. 

Taehyung has a family. He went to school and became a scientist. He risked his life for the good of his people and ended up here just to argue with his boyfriend about secrets and intimacy. 

Everything strange that Taehyung has ever done flits through Jimin’s mind like rolling credits, one moment after another, clearly laid out. His behavior at dinner with Jimin’s parents, his knowledge of space, his quirky little jokes Jimin rarely understands, and the pet names he gives Jimin, his job as an aerospace engineer. 

“Do you actually go to work?” Jimin chokes out. 

For some reason, Taehyung laughs. His reaction makes Jimin's face burn with embarrassment. 

“I’m sorry,” Taehyung says once he has calmed down his anxious giggling. “I just… That wasn’t what I expected to be your first question after finding out you’re dating a monster.” 

Jimin frowns. "Are you going to eat me?"

"Why would you think that?"

"I don't know. You keep calling yourself a monster."

Taehyung laughs again, and this time, the joy reaches his eyes. "Little moon, I'm not going to eat you," he says, tentatively stepping closer. "I'm in love with you."

Taehyung has said it a million times, but hearing his love confession always makes Jimin’s stomach flutter. 

"Why didn’t you tell me?" 

Jimin peers over Taehyung's shoulder at the tentacles extended from his back. Since their conversation calmed down, two more tentacles have emerged, all of them peeking around Taehyung's body as if they're cautiously watching Jimin.

"I never told you because I didn't know how. I'd been on Earth for barely a year when I encountered the most captivating creature I've ever seen," Taehyung says, looking at Jimin with a soft smile. "Was I supposed to walk up to you and say, 'Hi, I'm Taehyung, the alien! My tentacles and I would love to get to know you!'?"

Jimin struggles to look Taehyung in the eyes. 

“You could have said that,” he mumbles as he watches two of Taehyung’s tentacles bat at each other.

Taehyung snorts. “I could not have.” The playful tentacles seem to annoy Taehyung because he swats at them, and they shrink back slightly, separating themselves so one is on either of his shoulders. “Aliens aren’t real.” 

The statement sounds silly coming from a man with tentacles, but Jimin thinks he understands. If their roles were reversed, Jimin doesn’t think he would ever share his secret with Taehyung. 

“Well,” Jimin takes slow steps until he meets Taehyung in the middle of the room, “I’m not afraid of you. And I don’t think you’re a monster.” 

Up close, Jimin can see that Taehyung has been crying, too. His eyes are red and puffy, and his cheeks are tear-stained. He’s still gorgeous, though, a pretty crier. He could be nothing else in Jimin’s eyes. Tentacles and all. 

“Thank you,” Taehyung reaches for Jimin’s hands and grins with Jimin, offering both for Taehyung to hold. 

Jimin keeps waiting for something to happen, something horrible that will have him packing his bags and getting the fuck out of there. But it's the same two hands holding his, with the same rough calluses from lifting weights and the same warm skin that always bring Jimin comfort. Taehyung is still the same, with soft brown eyes that stare into Jimin's with the intensity of the desire to know and understand. Taehyung is just Taehyung. 

“You don’t need to hide them. They’re cool,” Jimin says, smiling when Taehyung laughs again. He could listen to those giggles for the rest of his life – plans to, actually. 

One of Taehyung’s tentacles sneaks out further, hovering near Jimin’s forearm. It doesn’t touch him, but something about how it moves makes Jimin think it wants to. 

“Are they sentient?” Jimin asks, looking back and forth between the tentacles and Taehyung. 

Taehyung furrows his eyebrows, deep in thought.

"It's hard to put into words for a human to understand... It's like my tentacles are an extension of myself. I can control them, but sometimes, they act on my emotions and instincts without me telling them to. Sort of like your subconscious. They have their own little personalities, but I think it’s because each one is a concentrated piece of my personality. When I let them free, they know what my mind and heart want without me having to tell them. Does that make sense?"

It doesn’t, but Jimin nods anyway.

“I guess the most important thing to understand is that they’re a part of me, and they won’t harm you,” Taehyung’s tone is gentle but firm. "My people, we use them to communicate and understand each other's emotions." He squeezes Jimin’s hands when he talks, drawing Jimin’s eyes up to his. “Okay, moon?”

“Yes,” Jimin nods again, “I never assumed you would hurt me, Tae.” 

Seemingly satisfied with that answer, Taehyung raises his eyebrows as he takes one of Jimin’s hands and directs it toward the tentacle still hovering near his arm. 

"What?" Jimin squawks, but he doesn't stop Taehyung from guiding his hand.

The tentacle first pokes at Jimin’s outstretched fingers. After testing the waters, it slides against Jimin’s palm, though he doesn’t dare try to grab it. As the tentacle glides along the inside of his wrist, Jimin feels the line of tiny bumps on the underside that send tingles through his skin. 

“They’re really soft,” Jimin notes in surprise. He shivers as the tentacle climbs his arm and slips underneath his t-shirt sleeve.

"You're the first human to touch them who’s not doing it to study them," Taehyung admits shyly.

It’s shocking how quickly anger creeps up Jimin's neck and flushes his face. Just the thought of someone poking and prodding Taehyung makes him feel sick to his stomach. 

“It’s okay, little moon.” Taehyung reaches up with his hand to run his fingers through Jimin’s hair. “I’m okay now. I don’t have to go through that any longer.” 

“Okay.” 

Jimin doesn’t see the point in bothering Taehyung about it. Maybe one day he’ll ask, but today has been a considerable step for Taehyung. Jimin doesn’t want to push him even further than he already has. There’s just one more question he’ll allow himself to ask. It seems within the boundaries of what has already been uncovered. Still, Jimin has to take a deep breath to dispel his nerves.

"Can I see the rest of you?"

Taehyung finally breaks out into a full smile, all crooked and boxy. 

"This is all of me," Taehyung says with a laugh. "What more did you expect? Antennae? Green skin?"

"Leave me alone!" Jimin swats at Taehyung, embarrassed by his own curiosity. It’s the damn movies! Jimin doesn’t even like watching alien movies. 

"My people aren't too different from yours," Taehyung says with a knowing smile.

Maybe for some humans, learning that one’s boyfriend is an alien would be devastating. For Jimin, as he opens his arms to wrap around Taehyung, careful not to crush his tentacles, learning this vital information about his boyfriend only helps him understand Taehyung even more. Gone are his concerns about being enough or Taehyung’s happiness. Knowing the secret of who Taehyung is is a gift. It’s a guarantee that Jimin will be able to care for Taehyung better and nurture their relationship with a better understanding of what Taehyung needs.

And right now, Jimin knows that Taehyung needs reassurance — something Jimin is more than eager to provide him with.

“I love you so much, my pretty moon,” Taehyung murmurs into Jimin’s silky hair. He cups the back of Jimin’s head, keeping him close as if he thinks Jimin might pull away.

“I love you, too. Always.”

Always is a bold statement, and Jimin means it with all his heart.

♡ series masterlist ♡

My fanfiction works are created for entertainment purposes only and do not represent real individuals or events. My content is exclusively posted on Tumblr (gimmethatagustd) and AO3 (gimmethatagustd, daddytaehyungie). Copying, reposting, modifying, translating, or using my content for AI purposes is strictly prohibited. All rights are reserved.

[paper-gold-theories]

HeroFlugAU (The Nudes Incident)

One of the heroes accidentally sent a dick pic to the P.E.A.C.E. group chat that was meant for his girlfriend.

He apologized for the embarrassing accident but since that was "P.E.A.C.E.'s formal group chat for only important news" the group was very strict for what messages should appear in their chat, hence he got banned from the chat for a month and issued a warning.

Some heroes got the shock of their lives, others appalled, others though it was hilarious, and some was like "Heh, nice".

Flug got shock of his life but suddenly noticed something off about the photo and texted the hero that he saw some lumps on his testicles from the photo and he should go get a doctor to check it out. The hero thanked Flug, feeling grateful.

And he thought that was the end of it.

----

Rumors spread like wildfire that Flug was able to diagnose somone based on a dick pic, so almost every hero in P.E.A.C.E. started sending Flug nudes.

Most of the pics are from heroes who are worried about their health and are sending pics for small reasons like odd looking scars and moles. Others are just doing it because everyone else is doing it and they don't want to be left out.

[Golden Rule Member #1]: You see what happens when you help someone Flug! People send you nudes.

[Golden Rule Member #1]: So good deeds DO get rewarded! *laughing hysterically*

Flug, flustered: Oh shut up!

Flug tried to text everyone to stop sending him naked photos. But how they selectively interpret it is to not send Flug photos unless its a real medical emergency and to them everything is an emergency.

GoldHeart stepped in and held a conference a bluntly told everyone to stop sending nudes to his boyfr Team Member.

Vanity: But what if its a real medical emergency?

Flug: You guys can redirect it P.E.A.C.E. Medical Department. We also talked to them to do medical screening this month for everyone and to ask them any questions if that you have.

Vanity, texting: Ok, I'll send you some backup photos now...

Flug: No! DON'T GAH!!

[Flug, traumatized his phone off the floor and GoldHeart tosses a chair at Vanity for the audacity, knocking him out.]

GoldHeart: ENOUGH! Flug is not involved in the medical screening. He is the scientist and doctor for The Golden Rule ONLY not for P.E.A.C.E!

[Golden Rule Member #2], raises hand: Sooo, does that mean Flug can see us naked? (Miss Heed perks up)

GoldHeart: ...*death glares* GoldHeart: Flug can only see me naked...

GoldHeart: And if I catch anyone sending Flug nudes again there will be consequences...

[All the heroes proceed to exit the meeting in fear and promising to never send Flug nudes.]

Afterwards, Flug thanks GoldHeart for helping him with situation.

[Golden Rule Member #3]: I'll give you $50,000 for nudes of Omega and the other popular heroes, a thousand bucks for the semi-popular heroes, a hundred bucks per hero for all the nudes and embarrassing photos you have for all the heroes!

[Golden Rule Member #3], adds: ... And maybe ten bucks for the unpopular ones like Vanity Bolt, you can never know when those can be useful.

But Flug refused and deleted all the photos before throwing his phone into the fire along with his sim card before getting a new phone and a new number, (just in case) to stop the chain of nudes and put this whole incident behind him.

Flug, sighs: I never want to see another naked hero again... GoldHeart: What? *looks worried* Flug, laughs: Except you GoldHeart.

GoldHeart: Oh... *looks relief and laughs with Flug*

-----

Flug through the whole thing is basically like 😂:

[denial-permanente]

Hey!

I have a doubt I cannot solve and thought you might have been in the same position and could give some advice.

It happens that, while spending an innocent day with my partner, I might frequently get excited (especially if it's been a few days since my 'last time", I just can't help it). I try my best to resist the urge to touch anything, not until it's time for fun at least, yet sometimes I get uncomfortable feelings. A bit like when you practice edging... testicles, one, the other or both... start feeling uncomfortable after hours of sparks of random excitement. A bit like what you call "blue balls" I guess, something you sometimes feel in the lower part of your abdomen as well.

Such feelings vanish as soon as ejaculation happens, I never tried to live with them for too long.

My questions are the following: have you ever experienced something similar? Are these uncomfortable feelings part of chastity as well? If yes, what are you supposed to do, can you live with it, are there non-ejaculation based remedies? Have you got any idea why this issue might be there in the first place, despite no touching at all, is there something not obvious to avoid doing to prevent it? Is it young age and too much of a hot partner?🥹

Denial, intended as a few days spent "charging" to give your best, very much intrigues me, but I question if I could endure it given these episodes.

Thank you so much for your time!

🔏Tom here. I'm assuming that you are young, and with a high libido. What you are experiencing is totally normal. And even though I am now known for writing about our experiences in denial, I seriously doubt that I would have wanted this when I was, say, 24.

All that I can tell you is to try to learn to enjoy the feeling of pressure building in you, perhaps as a reminder of what you will get to enjoy with your partner later on.

Also, heavy squats and deadlifts will help relive the pressure. 😅