#weird things to airdrop

[alustfulfeeling]

[hornychristianprincess]

wasted (leehan x fem reader) pt 3

paring: leehan x fem reader genre: smut, fluff, angst, fuckboy!leehan word count: 15k bc i'm a slut for this man SRFKLHSDLK summary: everything in your life is affected as your relationship with leehan progresses. warnings: explicit sex scenes, oral (male and female receiving), expressions of insecurity and self-esteem issues should you wish to read on ao3, click HERE.

At the library on a Saturday night, you, Leehan, Riwoo, and Giselle sit at the same table, studying for your approaching midterms. 

“Y/N,” says Leehan. “Can you send me the pdf file you found for the English textbook?”

You nod, quickly finding the file on your phone and airdropping it to Leehan the Lion . “Just sent it.”

“Thanks,” he mutters, before returning to writing notes on his laptop. 

This is about as exciting as your interactions get with Leehan when you’re among your group of friends, studying or going to the caf or finding some event on campus to go to. 

It was the ultimate whiplash, then, to experience Leehan when you were alone. 

Because in the month or so that’s passed since the night of the lunar eclipse, every few days you could look forward to the what are you doing? text that usually led up to some of the most satisfying, passionate sex of your life.

The friends-with-benefits arrangement the two of you were in had quickly become the center of your life. It felt like you were always in limbo as you awaited his latest text, and when you got it, it didnt’t matter what you were doing – you were always ready to surrender to him, to surrender to pleasure that was beginning to feel like the only thing that made you excited to wake up some days.

You had sex sometimes three, sometimes five times a week. Where it happened didn’t really matter to either of you — in the bathroom at a party, the confines of your dorm room, in the backseat of his car. 

Everything in your life had been shrunken to make space for what was now your top priority. 

And whatever negative impacts were to come of such decision-making were yet to be seen when it felt like the high you received from his attention was blinding everything else.

It was always weird to have to face him in settings like this the next day, to hear him speak to you so casually as if his face wasn’t buried between your legs less than 24 hours ago. Still, you kept up your end of this unspoken bargain to pretend as if you weren’t anything but acquaintances.

“I have midterms for every class. I’m feel like I’m gonna die of stress,” said Giselle, throwing her long brown hair over her shoulders. Giselle was one of the people who rode with Jaehyun during the lunar eclipse, and although you didn’t get much time to speak with her then, you’ve since gotten close by hanging out more. 

“That’s why you need to find the right vice. Food…drugs… orgasms, ” replies Leehan playfully, quirking a teasing eyebrow in her direction. He chuckles as Giselle rolls her eyes at him, and as much as you hate yourself for it, you can’t help but notice how his eyes linger on her even as she returns to her textbook.

Occasionally, you’ll observe the fact that the sense of humor and charm that made you fall for Leehan in the first place is not something that he reserves for only you, and it makes you just the tiniest bit sad. 

It’s nice to feel, even if it’s not true, like the moments you share alone in your bedroom are ones where he feels safe to show you things no one else gets to see. Like you hold the key to pieces of Leehan that no one else can access. 

So in times like these where you’re presented with evidence that says otherwise, it makes you feel like there is nothing special or significant about how you and Leehan got to where you were. Perhaps it was just a case of right place right time, like he could’ve met anyone – Giselle, even –  and done the same things he’s done with you.

Then again, the interaction you just observed could’ve been completely innocent and it’s you that’s overthinking it.

At the end of the day, if you were keeping score, the fact that you’re the first person with whom Leehan has offered up his body to on a regular basis feels like more than enough evidence that what you share is special.

In fact, you’re pretty sure he’s gonna fuck you after this.

You know because in the hour or so later when the library is about to close and you’re wrapping up your study session, he says, “Y/N, you live near the mail center, right? I’ll walk with you; I need to drop something off before I head home.”

It takes every bit of self control you have to not break out into a smirk – he knows exactly where you live, and it’s because you fuck there almost every time. “Sure,” you reply, in the most neutral voice you can possible muster.

“See you guys later,” you’re saying to Riwoo and Giselle as you pack up your things and head out. 

It’s past midnight and almost completely dark outside by the time you and Leehan leave, save for the few street lights that illuminate the sidewalk. For no reason in particular, it’s silent between the two of you. You might’ve found such an atmosphere to be awkward if it weren’t for the fact that your dorm was only a 5 minute walk away. And, when it comes to Leehan, you can never be too presumptuous in trying to interpret his moods; being the person that he is, something you’d usually interpret as disinterest could actually mean a plethora of non-threatning things for him.

On the way there, you approach what’s essentially an alleyway, a narrow space between two dorms that is deserted and dark. You don’t think anything of it until suddenly, you’re tugged inside of it and everything in your line of sight goes dark.

And before you can ask questions or react, your senses are flooded by the feeling of Leehan’s lips pressed against yours.

It’s amazing how your body adapts to the sudden gesture before your mind does. While it takes you a moment to internally acknowledge that you’re not in danger, your skin ignites with electricity the moment his lips touch yours. 

If a bystander were to observe the passionate, needy, almost desperate way he’s kissing you, they’d think that you’re someone he hasn’t seen in years, someone who he’s eager to make up lost time with. 

He doesn’t stop at just dominating your mouth with his tongue. His hands, like calloused vines, wrap themselves around your body, setting fire to whatever pieces of exposed skin he can find. And when you whimper against him, he adds to the sound with a groan of his own.

But no, this isn’t a kiss of two lovers who have been separated by time, or location. Leehan is just a person who is steadfast in his commitment to doing everything in his life earnestly. And it’s one of the many reasons why you are enamored by him.

When he pulls away to look at you, you can see even in the dark the expression of relief on his face. It’s as if kissing you was an urge he has been suppressing until now, and having gotten his fix, he’s left in a state of contentment.

“What was that for?” you ask, adrenaline and arousal running through your veins in such an fiery combination that you find your voice comes out weaker than usual.

“Just had to get it out my system,” is what he says indifferently in reply, and with his lips curling into a smirk, he heads out of the alleyway and continues on the path to your dorm. You follow him, feeling like the arousal you had been suppressing the entire time you were at the library with your friends has now doubled in a way that makes your knees wobbly as you walk.

It’s silent between the two of again as you approach the building to your dorm, although now you feel confident in assuming that it had always been searing sexual tension that was keeping him from being his usual talkative, bubbly self. 

It could be confusing to someone else, then, why — even as you’re locking the door to your room with him inside of it – you still aren’t all over each other in the way your earlier interactions might’ve preluded. 

But it’s because you just have one more confirmation you need to make before you can truly let go of your inhibitions, and that’s the question of, “Is your roommate here?”

Your roommate, lovely girl, would usually be here in the dorm at this time. But already having a feeling what you’d be getting up to tonight, you transparently informed her through text that im so so sorry but i’m out with you know who and i could reallllyyy use some dick tonight. buy you food to make up for it? just before you left the library.

“No. She’s out studying,” you tell Leehan. 

When you meet each other’s gazes, Leehan’s eyes sparkling as if he’s just been told he’s won the lottery, you can sense the exact moment when the both of you realize there’s no longer a need to wait. And so, like animals excitedly tearing up freshly-killed prey, it’s in a messy, rushed flurry of movements that you both take each other’s clothes off. 

Before Leehan, you don’t think you ever experienced an attraction for someone so intense that it caused you to push furniture over in the process of trying to get to the bedroom. But with him, the sound of a glass vase breaking doesn’t feel so concerning when you’re too busy trying to make it to the bed, take off his clothes, and not break your kiss all at once. 

There’s something so humorous about your shared vigor, causing you to both smile into the kisses you share, remaining playful even among such intensity. 

“You’re roommate’s a lovely person, isn’t she?” he remarks as he backs you up into your bedroom doorframe, throwing the jacket you had been wearing on your rug in the process. “I’ve gotta apologize to her one day. Poor girl’s had to hear so many things.”

You hate how much his words ring true, because truthfully, tonight was one out of several rare occasions in which you’ve been given enough foresight to warn your roommate before Leehan comes over. Other times, things between you two have blossomed too spontaneously for a warning, or, your phone died while you were out together, giving you no means to let her know he was arriving. 

“ Ew . Don’t talk about her like that. It’ll make me think you have a thing for her,” you reply in reference to the lovely person and poor girl attributions, and although you’re mostly joking, the insecurity from before about his interest in other women still remains present in the forefront of your mind.

And it’s not at all helped when, even jokingly, he makes remarks like, “Hey — I’d never say no to inviting someone else into our activities.”

At this point, you’re standing in nothing but a bra and panties in front of him, preparing to give your body up for his pleasure, which is why you think it’s fairly reasonable that you reach out to swat him in response to such cheekiness. 

But he seizes your wrists before you can make contact, laughing at your reaction in that way that, as annoying as it is to acknowledge right now, makes him look so, so sexy. “I’m kidding, baby,” he chides apologetically. “I’d never share you. Want you too fucking badly to even think about it.”

It’s in moments like these that you can’t help but get butterflies from Leehan, especially when he leans in to kiss you languidly right after. This habit he’s taken of calling you all sorts of pet names, from princess to baby to sweet girl, is something that has made your attraction to him increase tenfold. 

How could you help it, when his deep voice by itself is like a weapon specifically designed to torture you?

“Are you needy, baby?” asks Leehan teasingly, as his hand is now stuffed in your underwear, and his forehead is pressed against yours as he pushes you against the hard surface of your dresser and fingers you expertly. “Was what we did two days ago not enough? Did I not fuck you good enough?”

It’s actually because the sex from two days ago – and the day before that and the day before that and the days since you met him – was too good that you find yourself needing little stimulation to get wet at the thought of fucking him again. But of course, you don’t admit this, not needing his ego to get any larger than it is. “Shut up and fuck me.”

But Leehan doesn’t pay your cheek any mind, reacting only with a scoff as he busies himself with getting on his knees in front of you. Pressing his face against the skin of your bare stomach, he remarks, “You smell like me. It’s so fucking sexy.”

Leehan is the most wayward person you’ve ever met. But you can surely count on him in moments like these to make your entire body feel like it’s on fire, knowing exactly what buttons to push and places to touch to get a rise out of you. All he does is leave chaste, delicate kisses along the skin from your sternum to your belly button, but the fact that he maintains eye contact as he does it, and the implication that he makes when he says, “And I bet you taste like heaven, too,” makes you feel like you’re experiencing something so ethereal it’s as if you’re out of your own body.

You’re looking down at him as he kisses at the spot just above your pussy, and it’s at that moment that you decide you want him too badly to wait any longer. Fingers that had once laced themselves in his hair now tug on the strands, pulling him up and off of you. “Leehan. Inside of me. Now.”

You watch as his eyes scan your face to tell if you’re being serious or not, and if you could see yourself through his gaze, you know you’d be convincingly earnest in your desire to have him. Once he confirms this for himself, he pops up from his previous position kneeling on the ground, and looks at you with his head cocked to the side in a expression of challenge. Pushing you up onto the dresser, he quirks an eyebrow to say, “Have I ever told you that I find you sexiest when you’re telling me what to do?”

At this, you smile, playing into his confession by commanding, “Kiss me,” before leaning in to meet his lips. And when his hand travels between your legs, you know it’s not to touch you, but to reach into the top drawer of your dresser where you’ve allowed him to stash some condoms. It’s with excitment that you hear him tear open the package, sliding the latex onto his hardened cock.

There’s a moment just before he lines his cock up with your slit where he pulls away from your lips, reaching a hand out to hold your jaw in place so that your eyelines are level. And when he simply just stares at you silently, allowing his eyes to graze your features with an awe-stricken expression on his face, you can’t help but look away as the intensity of his admiration becomes overwhelming.

He chuckles at your obvious shyness, hand never leaving your jaw as he continues to view you like you’re a delicate statue he’s entranced by. “Don’t you think it’s too late to be shy after everything we’ve done together?” he says jokingly, and even though you feign disagreement with a roll of your eyes, you make no effort to suppress the smile that appears on your face as you bask in his teasing of you.

“I can’t help it,” you reply, comfortably meeting his gaze now. “You’re just really fucking handsome.”

You’re sure he’s heard these words hundreds of times in hundreds of ways, and yet you can see his eyes-widening as if you’ve said something sincerely touching. Perhaps the words hit differently when heard spontaneously, genuinely, without any pretense behind them.

It’s without any warning that Leehan pushes himself inside of you. Caught off guard by the feeling of his cock entering you inch by pleasurable inch, you can only make a mental note to apologize to him later as your fingernails dig into the skin of his back. Luckily, he doesn’t seem to mind, too focused on leaning his forehead against yours and watching with greedy eyes as his cock enters your pussy and leaves it with a creamy sheen. 

“Jesus fucking christ, Y/N,” he remarks in awe, managing the words through a shaky exhale as he moves to hook his arms underneath your thighs. He pulls your body closer to the edge of the dresser, bringing his cock even deeper inside of you. He hasn’t even started fucking you properly yet, and still you let out a series of elongated sighs and moans, wrapping your arms around his neck for a sense of comfort.

It’s when you’re completely pressed together in a skin-to-skin embrace that he finally begins to thrust inside of you at a pace that you’re used to. As clumsy and unsure as he can sometimes be, Leehan never fucks you erratically. It’s always with a controlled, focused pace that he pistons his hips into yours, knowing your body so well that you never have to tell him when to slow up or go faster. 

When you first met Leehan, you couldn’t understand the concept of kissing being considered an intimate act between two lovers. 

But now, as he leans in to press his mouth against yours, his tongue exploring the depths of your mouth, it’s with suprsing clarity that you realize why some people like to refrain from kissing entirely when they hook up with someone. 

You’re at your most smitten when being passionately tongue-kissed through an unforgiving onslaught of thrusts, a part of you wishing that this sex could become a permanent fixture in your life and not just a transactional, temporary high.  

It’s only when he slots a hand between your bodies to tweak at your clit that it becomes impossible for you to meet his kiss, feeling too much pleasure to hold back your open-mouthed cries. Leehan then moves to kissing your neck, and it’s some of the most sensual affection you've ever received as he allows his tongue to drag across your skin, suctioning his lips on sections of your shoulder where you’re sure he’s leaving hickies. 

He goes up your body in this sequence until he reaches your ear, mumbling, “You take care of my cock so well,” as he licks at the shell of your ear and sinks his teeth onto your earlobe. “It’s why I’m never coming off of you. It’s too fucking good for me to stop.”

Transfixed by the sound of his voice, the feel of his cock, and the stimulation you receive on your clit, you can feel that it’s only a matter of time before your pleasure reaches it’s crescending point. “Leehan,” you mumble out, grabbing onto fistfuls of his long hair as if it’s the only thing keeping you tethered to Earth. “Come with me.”

He denies this request with a click of his tongue, mumbling the words, “You first,” into your ear as his thrusts increase in impact. It’s in a sad attempt at a kiss that you press your mouth against his, feeling his intensity and passion just as the same even as you devolve into just grazing your tongue against his mouth. 

Your orgasm hits you in a feeling that’s akin to a bunch of puzzle pieces fitting perfectly together at once; the combination of his cock, his closeness, and his endless circling of your clit leaves your body seizing with what is surely one of the most pleasurable feelings of your life. 

And as you feel his movements becoming rapid and untethered, knowing that the feeling of your tighetning cunt will soon become too pleasurable for him to bear, it’s with satisfied foreboding that you watch him give you his last, hard thrust. 

There are a least of couple minutes that pass where neither of you move, the only sounds being your successive heavy breathing as you both come down from intense highs. Leehan makes the first move by carrying you your bed, where he plops you down on your back and makes a very sexy whimpering sound as he’s forced to pull out of you. 

Even once you’re separated, he still plops down on the bed to rest next to you. A forearm’s length apart, you long for him to touch you, even if just for a moment.

“Shit,” he mutters, an outburst that has you confused until you notice his eyes and their fixation with your bedside alarm clock. “I didn’t realize how late it is. I really don’t want to drive back to my apartment at this time.”

Then stay, is what you think to yourself, but these are words that you would never dare to actually vocalize. 

There was truthfully one instance just a month or so prior when you suggested he might leave a bookbag in your room so he didn’t have to walk home with it in the rain. Not too soon will you forget the way a usually upbeat Leehan turned cold on you within seconds, neglecting to say more than a see you later as he almost sprinted to leave your apartment.

You’d be lying if you said his eagerness to leave after the sex is finished wasn’t at least the slightest bit dismaying. 

The delusional part of you wishes he could at least pretend like he didn’t just come here to fuck you and nothing more. 

It would be nice to believe that the sheer enjoyment of your company would be enough to make him want to stay afterwards.  

And what’s worse is that every time, he comes up with some way to express how much he probably should stay. Like just now, how he mentioned how late it was. It frustrates you more than anything. 

Because no matter how much he says he doesn’t want to leave, he always does. 

And at this point, you wish he would just do it decisively instead of trying to soften the blow. 

“Did you hear about the party we’re having this weekend?” you hear him ask suddenly, his body in a sitting position as he gets up to put on his clothes. “Ha. We . Well, really Jaehyun.”

Though you find it difficult to have casual conversation with him when your mind is elsewhere, you indulge him with a truthful shake of your head. “No. What’s it for?”

“Halloween. He’s asking everyone to dress up,” says Leehan, having already made it to the other side of your room. If you were in more of a spirited mood, you might laugh at how he mentions dressing up for Halloween as if it’s something that’s beneath him. “Don’t worry that he didn’t tell you. He just came up with the idea yesterday. 

The fact that Jaehyun hadn’t mentioned the party to you wasn’t even a thought that occurred in your mind. You were more so concerned with the logistics of deciding to throw a party during midterms. Stressed beyond relief with your own course load, you couldn’t imagine deciding to attend anything extracurricular at this time of year.

But then, the idea of making such plans seems a lot more plausible when Leehan says, “Are you coming, pretty? I think it would be cute if we went with with matching costumes.”

It’s because of moments like these that your feelings for Leehan can be so conflicting. At the beginning of your day today, he sat around you with your other friends and acted as if you were nothing more than acquaintances. Followed you to your dorm and fucked you as sensually and passionately as a boyfriend would. Is getting dressed and preparing to leave within minutes of reaching his climax. And now, he calls you pet names in a non-sexual context and tells you he wants to wear a couple’s costume with you. Constantly affronted with gestures that are both hot and cold, you can never be too sure whether it’s you that’s delusional or him that’s sending mixed messages.

Nonetheless, you cannot help yourself from replying, “Sounds fun. I’ll be there,” even though you know you that you shouldn’t. Even though you know you have far too much on your plate academically to be going to a party on a school night. Even though you know your actions should not be so predated on his. Knowing all of this, you still find yourself not the least bit concerned, only excited, as you think about attending the party together.

“See you then, gorgeous. Have sweet, x-rated dreams about me,” is what he says as he finishes putting on his discarded clothes, standing in your bedroom doorway as he prepares to leave. His silhouette casts a shadow over your dimly lit room, covering your naked, vulnerable body. 

“Shut up,” you mumble weakly as you move to throw a pillow at him, a part of you wishing that all of your interactions felt as sweet as this one did.  

>you: hey i’m at the halloween store picking out costumes, what were you thinking?

Five minutes before you were planning to head out to Jaehyun’s party, you reread this text from two days ago over and over, the delivered in the corner almost taunting you. Just 13 words took you at least an half an hour to send because you couldn’t stop wondering if it was too vague or too forward or if you shouldn’t have even said anything all. 

And now, as you sit on the cold bench outside of your dorm waiting for your Uber to the party, wearing a cheap angel costume, you realize now what a mistake it was to send that text. 

You suppose the misunderstanding you’ve found yourself in started with your assumption – based on Leehan’s last words to you as he left your dorm just a few days ago – that you’d be shopping together to find matching costumes for Jaehyun’s party. 

But when the party was inching closer and he had yet to reach out, you ventured to a PartyCity on your own. It was then that you sent the text after much internal laboring, ultimatley thinking that maybe he was busy with midterms and would be grateful that you had taken the initiative on both your behalf's to buy the costumes.

Even as you were halfway through the checkout line and still nothing from Leehan, you bought a matching devil costume for him anyway, plastic red horns to match your sparkly halo. Maybe, when he was less busy, he’d eventually reach back out, still interested in going to the party with you and grateful you saved him the trouble of picking out a costume. 

In your mind, there were a billion rational possibilities for why he wasn’t responding that would still ultimately end in your original plans to attend the party and dress together.

It wasn’t until an hour before the party and still no response from Leehan that you were forced to accept you’d be going to this party yourself. A billion questions arose in your mind. Was something wrong, explaining why he had been M.I.A after making plans with you? Had he forgotten about the party entireley? 

Did he just…no longer want to go with you anymore?

As you stood up to enter your approaching Uber, you try to remind yourself that the party was being thrown at Leehan’s apartment – there was no way that he was oblivious to what today was. If he hadn’t responded to your text, it didn’t necessarily have to be for malicious reasons. Maybe he just genuinely forgot, or was one of the many people who went offline during midterm season.

Either way, you were beginning to think that you were worrying too much for no reason. After all, it isn’t the end of the world that you aren’t arriving together in matching costumes.

Or, maybe it’s the couple of shots you took while getting ready finally kicking in and causing your rationality to dissipate.

Arriving at Jaehyun’s apartment, you already knew that knocking on the door would be futile; without entering, you could hear the loud sounds of bass burning through a speaker that you could guess would make any outside noise intelligible. Instead, you took your chances at twisting the doorknob, and sure enough, it was unlocked. It seemed dangerous to you, but you walked in anyway to find a cacophony of purple, green, and orange strobe lights, illuminating the sizeable crowd of people filling the space. 

Decorations of cobwebs and skulls adored almost every surface, and as you walked further inside, you noticed the array of drink bowls spread out against a long table. 

You observe impressively that Jaehyun went as far as hiring a DJ, a guy dressed in a vampire costume who jerks his upper body back and forth to the rhythm of the music. 

It’s almost like a scene in a coming-of-age-film come to life, mountains of young adult bodies bouncing in a hypnotic fervor while drinks in red solo cups are sloshed up and down in the process.

Making your way through the crowd, you spot several of your newfound friends, plus others Jaehyun introduced you to at the lunar eclipse. You wave particularly to Riwoo, Giselle, and Sungho – dressed as an elf, cat, and fireman respectively – but really , who you’re looking for is Leehan. 

In the first five minutes or so of your search, you have no luck in finding him. You do, however, run into Jaehyun, whose sleeveless jean vest with no shirt underneath immediately gives away his costume as Ken from the Barbie movie. You giggle at the realization, taken aback even more when Jaehyun drapes an arm clumsily over your shoulder, bringing you in closer.

“I’m so glad you could make it, Y/N!” he shouts, competing with the loud music, and just barely – you almost want to drag him somewhere quieter, away from the DJ booth, but the longer you look at Jaehyun, taking in his wobbly, red-faced disposition, you realize he must be drunk. Trying to force him into any extended movement in his current condition would be futile.

“Thanks. Hey, have you seen Leehan?” you ask, skipping any pleasantries. You want to get an answer from his as quickly as possible before he becomes incoherent.

To your dismay, he shakes his head no. “He’s not coming. Told me he had a study date he was going to.”

You hope the absence of light outside from the shitty strobes obscures the expression of disappointment that is surely on your face right now, or even better that Jaehyun is too drunk to remember you asking this at all tomorrow morning. 

“You’re not still interested in him, are you?” asks Jaehyun, the smallest glimmer of rationality breaking through his drunken fervor as he seems to be sincere in asking. You force a smile, wanting to get away from him as quickly as possible before he’s able to notice the difference.

“No, of course not,” you dismiss with a small laugh. You give Jaehyun a friendly pat on the arm before identifying where the drinks are so you can head there next. “Thanks for having me.”

Beelining for the punch table, you fill a red solo cup with a mixture of liquids from all three bowls and throw it down without investigating what you’ve just ingested. To your dismay, rather than dulling your emotions, the alcohol brings out your festering resentment. Towards Leehan, towards this entire situation.

Truthfully, with your own midterms looming and a mountain of late assignments you’ve allowed to pile up over the last few months as you prirotized sex with Leehan, it was against your every best interest to show up tonight. 

You had checked your assignment-board this morning to discover that two essays worth 40% of your grade were due at 11:59 tonight. 

A class you were already failing with a 60 was requiring you to submit revisions for a paper tonight, too.

And yet, you made the decision to come out tonight – promising yourself you’d make it home at a decent enough hour so that you could at least submit something – because of Leehan. 

You were encouraged to wake up this morning and the morning before this morning because of your excitement at the notion of coming to this party with him by your side, wearing matching costumes and sharing drinks and hopefully spit by the end of the night, too.

If you were being completely honest, all of your days were beginning to feel like that — like the only thing you had to continuously look forward to was seeing or experiencing Leehan in some way shape or form.

Experiencing his laugh and his weird habit of bringing up the most random topics at the drop of a dime. Seeing his dimples pop out when he smiles at you and feeling like it’s the cutest thing in the world.

It’s becoming clear to you now that his absence has just as big — no, a bigger emotional impact that his presence does.

You’re angry because you know you didn’t create this excitement out of nowhere: he told you he wanted you to come to this party. You went solely because he said he was going to. If he didn’t want to come tonight, if he had plans, he could have warned you.

You’re angry at yourself for believing him. 

Worst of all, you’re angry because he’s on a date and it confirms all of your biggest insecurities about you not being enough for him.

And it’s at this point that you acknowledge how woefully unequipped you were to say yes to the proposition he gave you the night of the lunar eclipse. Because if it means having to experience the profoundly soul-crushing reality of his disinterest in anything having to do with you other than quick, indulgent sex, you’d rather die a million times. 

You feel your phone buzzing and reach into your bag to grab it unfeelingly. It’s a notification from Leehan. And as if you needed one more reason to feel like shit tonight, the nofication reads, Leehan questioned your message: hey i’m at the halloween store picking out costumes, what were you thinking?

You’re so tired of trying to analyze Leehan’s every action and gesture in an effort to convince yourself that maybe there’s some large reasoning behind his indifference. Instead of searching for any additional explanation behind in the question mark, you simply decide that he’s an asshole who had no intention of going out with you tonight.

And it’s with that steely acknowledgement that suddenly, you feel like you’re about to throw up all of the liquor you’ve just consumed. Taking a deep breath to stop yourself from spilling your guts right then and there, you decide it’s time to go home.

In your haste to leave the party, you don’t bother to try and yell excuse me to the 20 or so people blocking your way to the exit. You simply squeeze past who you can and push past who you can’t, not even caring to look back at those you shoulder check until you’re turned around by a pull against your forearm.

Face-to-chest with a figure you don’t immediately recognize, you body seizes up in fear, a condition that’s only slightly alleviated when you recognize the person’s voice as they exclaim in a deep voice, “ Whoa, whoa whoa . Hey, Y/N.” 

It’s in slight annoyance that you look up to meet Leehan’s gaze, finding him staring down at you softly. It appears that he’s just walked into the party. In a space  full of people dressed as mythical creatures, he looks out of place in his leather jacket and jeans, but also oh so attractive. His hair gathers in front of his face messily, the dark brown locks in a rare state of curliness. He doesn’t have to wear plastic horns to look devilish. 

“Are you okay?” you hear him ask loudly over the sound of the music, his hand now resting on the apex of your arm. Feeling both defiant and embarrassed to tell him the true answer to his question – that no , you’re not okay because you foolishly thought you could count on him to be there for you when he said he would – you don’t answer. 

And in a move that only contributes to the growing feeling that all Leehan truly cares about when it comes to you is sex, he doesn’t even allow you the time to answer, even if you wanted to. “You look pretty, angel ,” he says only seconds after his last remark, using both of his hands to smoothe down pieces of your hair messed up by your headband. 

A compliment that would usually cause sparks to fly throughout your stomach now only annoys you, especially as you catch a whiff of fruity, feminine perfume on his body. 

“You smell like someone else,” you tell him plainly, too drunk to hide what it is you’re thinking. And you can see that the remark and the resentful tone in which you say it takes him aback, even as he chuckles in an attempt to remain composed. 

“Because I was driving for Uber, tonight, pretty,” he says, and before you have a chance to question his excuse, he continues by asking, “How much have you had to drink?”

“Why does that matter?” you retort with a scoff, convinced he’s about to try and spin this on you by suggesting your valid anger is a result of your drinking. 

But then he puts on that signature smirk of his, those wretched dimples of his coming out as he leans down into your ear to say, “Because when I ask If I can take you to my room in about five minutes, I want to make sure I’m not taking advantage of you.”

Yout hate that those words and the implication of sex have you immediately aroused and pliant, even as you grapple with the feeling of being just a physical object to him. 

Because as much as you dislike him right now for what he’s put you through emotionally, his renewed attention feels like the perfect solvent to your wounds.

“You wouldn’t be,” you reply softly, your voice coming out small and weak as you maintain unbroken eye contact with him.

“Yeah?” he replies almost mockingly, bringing a hand up to stroke your cheek. “Why do I get the feeling that you want me to take advantage of you?”

It feels like your mind and heart are on two different accords as your face remains passive and unaffected yet what comes out of your mouth is, “Take me to your room and find out.”

It’s less a feeling of shame but more like acceptance that comes over you as you follow Leehan back into the throes of the party, his hand leading you through the crowd of people and towards his bedroom. 

Deep down, you know that the excuse he gave you earlier about his whereabouts was bullshit. Never once before has Leehan mentioned driving for Uber, and even if he did, it still wouldn’t justify his complete lack of regard for the plans you made and his lack of regard for you , refusing to notify you in advance that he wouldn’t be available.

But when faced with the proposition of sex, it seems foolish to deny it so that you can… what ? Continue to stew in feelings that will just leave you feeling empty, hurt, and worthless? Question him about being on a date when you know you have no right to?

Having sex will at least guarantee you a few moments of mind-numbing bliss, even if only a temporary high. Better that than have to face the reality of your own complicated nest of delusion.

As you’re let into Leehan’s room, hearing the sound of him closing the door shut behind you, you’re hit with the sudden realization that in the three months or so you’ve known him, you’ve never been in here before. 

His room has all the markers of a college boy’s sense of taste – dark colored furniture and bedsheets, posters scattered on the wall with no real order, random piles of mess occupying corners of the room. 

In a space that is otherwise unremarkable, your attention is piqued by a square, rectangular tank on top of his dresser.

“You have fish ,” you remark in a tone that is both matter-a-fact and questioning, something about your drunken state making you more curious than ever about the tank and it’s inhabitants. 

Throwing his jacket onto a random chair, Leehan comes up next to you and lets out a chuckle as he takes in your awe-stricken expression. “For some reason, I forgot you haven’t been in here before,” he observes, and when he watches you just continue to stand still, eyes transfixed on the fish but still remaining a few feet away from the tank, he gestures for you to follow him to it. “C’mon. Sit.”

You can’t help the way that your limbs move eagerly and excitedly towards the tank, where Leehan pulls up two extra chairs for you both to sit and view it together. 

Fish of all different sizes and shapes swim around in vibrant blurs of pink, orange and beige. You watch it all in awe, not sure if it’s because you’re tipsy or simply curious, and as Leehan explains what each type of fish is called, you hang onto every word.

“...this one is called a corydoras catfish. The rest of them are shrimp,” he explains, pressing his finger up against the tank as he points out each fish and the attributes that differentiate them from one another. 

In one corner of the tank, a group of fish swim frantically around each other, as if fighting.

“Usually they come right up against the tank when I sit in front of them like this. I think they’re mad because I haven’t given them any fish food.”

“Don’t you need to feed them?” you ask in genuine concern, turning to look at Leehan who only smirks.

“Are you trying to imply that I’m a negligent father, Y/N?” he retorts dramatically, his body tensing in mock offense before he relaxes and explains, “Don’t worry. They’re supposed to eat the algae on the rock. For some reason, they’re just being hesitant.”

“Maybe the algae isn’t what they want,” you chime in with a reasoning tilt to your quiet, contemplative voice.

“Just because the fish food is what they want doesn’t mean I should give it to them,” Leehan retorts simply, and maybe it’s the drunk, cynical part of you that thinks he’s making reference to your relationship. That you’re the fish who just can’t help but want something it can’t have, and he’s the sensible overseer that remains in control of what you will receive. 

But if Leehan is making some sort of larger, metaphorical reference to your relationship, he surely moves on from it quickly, becoming wistful and contemplative as he says, “I’ve been raising fishes all my life. Sometimes when I’m stressed I’ll just sit in front of the tank and talk to them.”

He presses his hand flat against the tank, his lips twitching into a prideful, paternal smile. “Because I know that unlike humans, they’ll never judge me.”

You find that your eyes never stray from the side of Leehan’s face as he talks, feeling almost like you’re a purveyor to this private, intimate moment he’s having. It feels like a privilege to be able to observe Leehan in moments like this where you’re given a genuine glimpse into his inner personhood.

But you’re pushed out just as quickly as you’re let in, watching as he promptly gets up from his seat by the tank and makes his way over to the bed. You turn your body in your chair to face him, and find that he’s now staring at you lustfully, gesturing for you to join him.

And as dismaying as it is to see him abandon the brief moment of emotional vulnerability just as quickly as it began, you stand up anyway, making your way to him.

Your movements toward him are slow, shy almost, and you can tell it pleases Leehan as you stand between his legs and are brought forward by his hands pushing at your lower back. He looks up at you, communicating wordlessly with just his sensual gaze how much he wants you. Your lingering anger from before stops you from making the first move, but even so, you don’t resist when he leans in to press a soft, steady kiss against your lips. Finding something almost apologetic about the innocent gesture, you put aside all of your inhibitions and decide to deepen the kiss, leaning your body fully into his and relishing in the groans he makes against your mouth. 

Passion quickly bleeds into the both of your movements until you’re kissing in a crazed, frantic manner. His hands that previously only looped your hips now wander across the expanse of your back, and with one forceful tug, your zipper comes down your dress. You’ve only just allowed the fabric to slide down your shoulders before he’s pulling the dress down himself, exposing your nipples to the cold air before covering them with his hot mouth. Tongue swirling around your hardened nubs, you nuzzle a hand in his hair and throw your head back in contentment. 

It’s with a wet pop that he pulls off of you, leaning upward to lock your lips once more. But because you're both incredibly and overwhelming horny, the kiss lasts for barely a few seconds before he’s pulling away to voice his plans for your body. 

“Want you to sit on my face,” he mumbles, voice gruff and deep and dripping with desire. “Wanna put that pretty pussy of yours in my mouth.”

Smirking in reply, you rest your head against his, eyes closed as you weather the currents of several shocks of arousal that travel up your body and make your legs feel like jelly. “I want that, too,” you confess, your voice sounding wispy as your body loses the strength to be assertive. “Also kinda want your dick in my mouth.”

His eyes light up at this, and with a hand on your chin that brings your face level with his, he says, “How about this: You hop on my face, and I’ll let you suck my cock. Sound good?”

Something about Leehan’s enduring leadership has the effect of making you feel intimidated, so much so that all you manage is a shy nod in response to his words, which he luckily accepts without any further prompting. You’re better at speaking with your actions, anyway, knowing that there’s a wordless understanding in the way that you kiss him hard and passionately while your hands push him onto his back.  

It’s with greedy, fast-moving hands that you strip him of his clothes, desperate for the instant bliss that is his mouth against your clit, the instant satisfaction that is his cum shooting down your throat. Once you have him fully naked, the fuzzy halo headband you’ve long forgotten about the only shared item of clothing between the two of you, you begin to adjust so that you may assume the required position. 

But your movements are suddenly halted when Leehan sits up suddenly, muttering the word “Wait,” as he maneuvers the both of your bodies so that you now lay on the complete opposite side of the bed. 

“That’s better,” he mumbles contentedly.

“What?”

“Just don’t want the fish to see what I’m about to do to you,” he replies, an answer so baffling that all you can do is laugh in reply. Your reaction barely phases him as he moves to drag your body onto his, and just like that, his kookiness is forgotten and your focus becomes tethered to the feeling of his breath against your awaiting pussy. 

He blows a few teasing, cool breaths against your dripping core, and before he has the chance to make you succumb to the pleasure of his mouth, you reach out to begin your own enjoyment of his heavy, hard cock. 

His member is veiny and substantial in your hands, reddened tip dripping with beads of precum that you lick away without thought of how it will impact Leehan. You feel his body seize with a jolt of pleasure from the direct contact with his most sensitive body part. 

And as if trying to get payback, he begins his assault on your pussy by sucking your clit into his warm, wet mouth.

From there, it becomes a competition of wills, a battle to see who can be least distracted by the pleasure they’re receiving in order to make the other fold, or at the very least, reach their climax. 

It’s a war you feel yourself pitifully losing as your drunken fervor somehow makes every casually overwhelming sensation feel 10x more heightened. You feel yourself inching closer and closer to release with each blissful flick of his tongue against your clit. 

Still, not forgetting about Leehan and his pleasure, you fight through the mental haze of your own gratification and concentrate on making slow, purposeful pumps of his cock within the ring of your hand. 

Sucking Leehan off is an activity you’ve gotten more than enough experience in to know what it takes to make him come. You gather all of the moisture in your mouth and wet his shaft with your spit. You press teasing, chaste kisses on his sensitive tip. You swirl your tongue in circles and continue stroking him with your hand. 

And then, when you can feel his thighs tensing as he grows tired of your teasing, you offer him relief in the form of taking him fully in your warm mouth.

Leehan’s self control is impeccable, even as you’re bobbing your head up and down his cock. He drags his tongue through your folds and finds himself at your hole, licking up the arousal there and fucking you open with his tongue. The only sign he shows of his own impending release are in the groans that he lets out against your mound. You can feel something overwhelming begining to build in your stomach, and though your body tries to squirm away from it, he holds you against his face.

You pitifully moan with his cock fully lodged in your mouth, and with a few final thrusts of his tongue, the knot in your stomach comes undone. As your orgasm overwhelms you, it’s difficult to continue moving your head. 

But Leehan’s too close to let his climax slip away from him, so it’s in desperation that he begins bucking his hips into your mouth at the same time he’s licking you through your orgasm. You just relax your jaw and let out restrained whimpers as Leehan fucks your mouth, not stopping until he finishes with a groan.

“My god, Y/N,” Leehan mutters breathily, turning you both on your sides, unraveling his limbs from yours until you’re no longer skin to skin. “We should do that position more often.”

You nod lazily in agreement, and with the little strength left in your limbs, you sit up to meet Leehan in the middle of the bed for a wet kiss. 

The position is slightly awkward, the two of you laying in opposite directions, twisting your bodies unnaturally, but kissing each other is a habit so addictive that even as you’re pulling away, he pulls at your hair to bring you back in for just a few seconds longer.

It’s comforting to fall back down onto the bed and feel Leehan’s fingers gently caressing the skin of your ankle. In your sleepy, post-orgasm haze, you’re filled with a sudden surge of contement in regards to your decision to come here tonight. 

You feel the fabric of a blanket kissing the sides of your body, and when you look over to find Leehan getting comfy in bed, it’s with satisfaction that you begin to do the same.

But then, the blanket you were just about to pull onto your body is snatched off of your skin, and when you look over at Leehan, you see him tucking himself in with a sleepy, content smile on his face. It’s just as you’re sitting up that he flutters his eyes closed, and with a sleepy tilt to his voice he says, “Hey, if you see Jaehyun on your way out, can you ask him to call me? I wanna know what time he plans on ending this.”

There’s a second after those words hit your ears where you’re not sure if you misheard him, slow to move from where you are in his bed. But as the implications of the statement hit you horrifically and all at once, it’s with a heavy feeling of shame weighing down your body that you reply, “Sure,” going to gather your discarded things from the floor.

The humiliating act of putting on your clothes after being dismissed so casually is almost instantaneously sobering. You catch a view of yourself in the display of your phone and notice that your plastic halo headband has been bent 90 degrees, likely from how rough you were. Your hair is strewn in every direction. Your mascara is smeared and ruined, running down your cheeks in squiggly, broken lines. 

You’re a mess. He made you a mess for the sake of his pleasure. And instead of cleaning you up, Leehan has essentially just kicked you out onto the street.

Only Leehan could cause such a dramatic shift between feeling like you were safe and desired to feeling like you’re just a worthless speck of nothing attached to the bottom of his shoe.

It’s just as you’re about to open the door to leave that you hear him call your name, and with your back turned to him, a hopeful part of you thinks that maybe, just maybe, he’ll say he changed his mind and wants you to stay.

But instead, as if to turn the knife in more, when you turn around, you find him staring boredly at his phone. 

Instead of regret on his face, you see neutrality. 

And instead of asking you to stay, he just says, “Thanks so much by the way. For the sex and the favor.”

It’s with a forced, robotic sense of calmness that you’re replying. “No problem, Leehan.”

And then you leave his room, never feeling so profoundly insignificant than you do in this moment.

There’s nothing quite worse than waking up with a terrible hangover, a panging feeling of emotional emptiness, and then having to send a string of desperate emails to your professors asking for deadline extensions. But that’s exactly what you do in the aftermath of the Halloween party, and by the grace of all things holy, you’re granted an extra few days to get your assignments in.

So grateful for the chance to resuscitate your failing GPA, you focus your efforts on finishing your assignments and almost forget about the cause of such misfortune, until you’re reminded when your phone suddenly buzzes with a text.

>leehan: what are you doing?

Messages of this sort usually have the effect of leaving you excited and giddy in anticipation of Leehan’s inevitable arrival to your doorstep. But now, all you feel is annoyance as you read the text and plague yourself over what to say. 

You type and delete several versions of a response that ultimately boils down to i’m too busy trying not to fail all of my classes which i wouldn’t be failing if it weren’t for all of the time i spend either thinking about you or fucking you , but in the end, you resolutely decide not to respond at all. 

In fact, in a move surely colored by the resentment you’ve allowed to grow for far too long now, you turn on read receipts so he knows you chose to disregard him on purpose.

You then continue typing away at one of the three essays that are past due, hoping you can forget about Leehan and return to the focus you had before receiving the message and being reminded of the past week’s events. You’re pleased when you look up after a few moments to see that an hour has passed and your attention hasn’t lingered. 

Just as you open a new tab to begin the reading for your second essay, the indistinguishable sound of a knock at your door stirs your attention otherwise.

You look around your shared dorm space. Your roommate went home for break already and hasn’t been here for the past few days. Assuming she communicated that to her friends, you know whoever’s on the other side of the door shouldn’t be for her. 

It could be an RA, though you couldn’t imagine why. 

Deciding to confront your curiosity head on, you get up to open the door and feel your eyes widen when it’s Leehan leaning against the doorframe.

Dressed comfortably in a hoodie and cargo pants, he looks up to greet you, smirking at the sight of your looming silhouette. “Hello,” he says casually, as if his sudden appearance was known to you before now.

There’s a strange mixture of excitement and dread that swirls inside of you the moment you see him. Because on one hand, just a look from him is something that gives you uncontrollable butterflies. You truly do like being around Leehan. But you feel like you have no control over the fact that you will let him in, even though you have every reason not to. 

He’ll fuck you, give you some of the best pleasure of your life, and will leave right afterwards, making you feel shitty. 

You’ll exerience the greatest high followed by the greatest low. 

And already in anticipation of how terrible you’ll feel in the aftermath of this inevitable scenario, it’s as if you’re body is already making space for the knife that will surely tear through your heart when this ends.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, though you already have a strong feeling what the answer will be. 

He’ll play coy, changing the subject by asking another question in response to your question.

“Aren’t you gonna let me in?” he says next, even though you both know the true reason why he’s come.

And because you like to feel like you have even the smallest semblance of control over the situation, you don’t give in to him easily, making a face of mock contemplation before replying, “Not if you don’t answer the question first.”

“Did you know that peppermint dwarf angelfish require a very specific type of fish food?” he asks, and because you’re so used to these divertive, weird diatribes he’s always so inclined to go on, all you can do is try and follow along. “I had to come all the way up here to find the only shop in Korea that sells it. And while I was already up here, I figured it wouldn’t hurt to stop by your dorm and say hi.”

You tilt your head as you stare at him, considering bitterly whether he could be telling the truth or not. 

But of course, his serious expression quickly melts into a smirk as he explains himself. “I’m kidding, Y/N. Not about the fishes, but about why I’m here. I wanted to see you, so I came.”

There’s something that’s really disgustingly cocky and self-centered about him just showing up to your door without warning with the unsaid though obvious expectation of sex. 

And yet, would he be wrong to have that expectation, when so many times before you’ve let him for that exact purpose?

He must be able to see the conflicting thoughts you’re having reflected on your expression, because from behind his back, he reveals a bouquet of flowers. You don’t know how you didn’t notice he was holding them until now, a colorful array of peonies and roses with, upon further inspection, a bunch of cardboard fishes placed among the petals. 

You can’t help but smile as you take them from him.

“I brought flowers?” he says, his voice titled in an expression of this being an olive branch, his way of expressing apology, though for what you don’t know. For showing up here unannounced? For putting you through so much obvious emotional turmoil? You’re not sure. 

There is something at least a little romantic about him boldly showing up at your doorstep instead of waiting for you to respond to his text. Though, through another, more cynical lens, you could also call it kind of creepy. Should you go with the latter interpretation, you know you would be sending the worse kind of message by letting him in anyway. You’d essentially be confirming to him that this relationship is on his terms, that he can show up to your place whenever he wants to get his dick wet, regardless of if you’re busy like you are now.

But isn’t that what this has always been between the two of you? Once again, you feel helpless in the face of the unbounding energy his presence causes. You can only watch the rest of the nights events play out like a bad movie you’ve seen far too many times, like you’re a witness from outside your own body and life.

You walk away from Leehan, leaving your door open so he knows he can come in. You place the flowers neatly on the table next to the entrance. It’s when you face the kitchenette of your dorm that you realize just how cluttered the place is; too stressed about your schoolwork, you haven’t put any thought into keeping it clean.

“Sorry,” you mutter sheepishly under your breath as you hear Leehan come in and close the door behind him. “It’s kind of a mess in here.”

He chuckles, as if to agree without having to say it plainly and hurt your feelings. You turn to face him and find that he’s already looking at you, a penetrating expression on his face as he asks, “Are you okay?”

You’ve never found that question as hard to answer as it is right now, especially when it’s his voice doing the questioning. 

Should you say that you’re on the verge of failing all of your classes, a circumstance you’ve never once had to worry about until he came into your life, causing a whirwhild of uncontainable emotions to take over your life? 

That you’ve been questioning everything when it comes to your own self-esteem and worthiness because it feels like you’re nothing if you’re not validated by the fleeting yet addicting warmth of his gaze and attention?

In the time that it takes you to think, you realize that Leehan has come closer, his body in front of you so that now you can’t escape from the kitchen counter against your back that blocks you in completely. Dazed by the proximity of him, you forget what you were asked, and are grateful when he doesn’t press you for an answer. It’s better for both of you if you don’t respond, anyway, because your honesty would surely kill the mood.

“You know what might make you feel better?” he asks, and you fight back a cynical giggle at the fact that he doesn’t even have to hear you say it to know that you need to be made better. “Fucking the shit out of me.”

As always, his moments of sudden candor simultaneously make you laugh and cringe because of how ill-fitting they are to the persona he occupies in your mind. You’ve always liked how awkward and strange Leehan is, which is why his fuckboy tendencies have always landed uneasily for you. 

It becomes too easy, then, to tease him by pretending you didn’t hear his outward expression of desire. “I don’t like the way you look at people,” you say, trying your hand at his usual divertive tactics. “It’s like you can see through them.”

You can always appreciate how even when you sidestep his advances, Leehan always plays into your banter, never pressuring you into action. “It’s because I can. BOO!” he exclaims, mouth open in an o shape as he childishly expresses fright. You muster a laugh at his playfulness.

After that, you’re both silent, and you know it’s because you’re both tired of playing games. You’re at the point now where it becomes obvious in both of your piercing gazes that you want to fuck, and now it’s just about who will make the move first. 

Suddenly conscious of Leehan’s long hair and how it hangs over the sides of his face, you reach your arms up to take pieces of it into your hands. There’s a rubber band on your wrist that you use to try and put it in a ponytail so you can see his features better, but before you can finish, he takes the opportunity of your increased closness to kiss you. 

The intensity of his kiss knocks the air out of your lungs, and you let go of his hair before you can finish tying it up. Because of your close proximity, it falls over the sides of your own face, obscuring the rest of the world from you so that it’s just him in your vision. 

His hands rest on the apex of your hips, and he pushes you slightly so that you’re completely backed up against the kitchen counter. You’d thought you’d feel more urgent, but your movements are leisurely as you bring your hands to his hoodie and begin to pull at the buttons holding it together. As the fabric begins to sag off his arms, he starts kissing at your neck, and you tilt your head to the side to accommodate him.

Once his shirt has fallen to the ground, you then work to release his cock from the confines of his pants, pushing at the thankfully loose waistband until it springs out against his naked stomach. You jerk him slowly and leisurely but it causes him to groan into your mouth just the same, and soon he’s moving to unbutton your own t-shirt until you’re both naked from the waist up.

“Leehan,” you whimper, as he cups your tits with both hands, “Bed.”

“Which one? I take it your roommate’s is empty?” he replies jokingly, and when you stare at him scathingly, he chuckles. “I’m kidding. Don’t look at me like that or I’ll come in my pants.”

You have no chance to scold Leehan for his teasing any further before he’s picking you up off the ground, your legs wrapping around his waist and hands around his neck as he walks habitually to your bedroom. He’s still on top of you even as you feel yourself being lowered onto your bed, mouth on yours in a sloppy kiss while his hands rush to get your pants off. He sits up to kick his own off, and now the two of you are left completely naked. 

This would usually be the point where the two of you would become like animals and rush to fuck as soon as possible. But while standing above your body, you watch as Leehan just stares at your still figure on the bed, taking in every detail with his penetrative, admiring eyes.

“I find you so beautiful,” he softly confesses, caressing the skin on your hip before looking up to meet your shy gaze. “Do you know that?”

It’s unclear whether he’s asking if you know that you’re beautiful, or if you know that he finds you beautiful. Either way, it’s in a moment of sincere honesty that you reply, “Only sometimes.”

Because there are days when you look in the mirror or put on your clothes on your way to campus and feel like your body is less of a home, but a prison that you’re forever doomed to occupy.

And with the emotional rollercoaster that is having sex with Leehan only for him to completely ignore you afterward, you’ve naturally found yourself wondering if the only alluring thing about you is that you’ll let him fuck you with no questions asked. That in a school full of beautiful girls with actual self-esteem, he’s settled for you so long as you continue to provide him with pussy.

Leehan furrows his eyebrows at your response, and with a corrective tone of voice replies, “ Always .” In movements that are slow and gentle, he leans down to lay a chaste kiss on your forehead. Another on the top of your cheek. Another on your ear. And then on every single part of your face that you’d normally consider insignificant. And then slowly down your rising and falling torso. 

“Everything about you. I couldn’t pick a favorite thing because I love every single part of you,” he confesses in a whisper-like tone against your skin. Finally reaching your pussy, he places one last gentle kiss at the top of your mound, something about the gesture making your pussy clench, espeically as he says, “You’re my favorite girl.”

To be affirmed by Leehan in this way is something that causes both your heart to swell and your body to pulse with arousal. But it’s also with a surge of sadness that you wish these words didn’t affect you so monumentally. 

A part of you wants him to stop making remarks of this sort to you during sex because you can never be sure that he truly means them.

But if that’s the case, then why do they feel and sound so genuine?

It’s with shaky resoluteness in your voice that you sit up to look at Leehan, replying, “Then show me.”

And, as if spurred on by the challenge, you can see Leehan’s expression changing even with half of his face obscured by your pussy. “How?” he asks, leaning in to lick teasingly against your clit. “Like this?” 

When he doesn’t wait for your answer and continues sucking and licking against your clit, you throw your head back as you enjoy the physical manifestations of Leehan’s attraction to you. 

If there is any time when you feel most desired and liked by him, it’s when he’s in between your legs, devouring you whole like a man starved. 

He uses his mouth not to tell you sweet-nothings, but to give you some of the best pleasure of your life. And it’s in gestures like these where you can wordlessly understand his devotion to you. 

It’s in your desperation to reach your peak that you begin to buck your hips into his mouth, wanting more of him, but he stops it with both hands that snake up your body and press down on your boobs. He tweaks at your nipples in a way that makes your back arch, but in a gesture that surprises you, he also just rests his hand over your chest, right where your heart is. You wonder if he can feel the fluctuations of your pulse, how it speeds up when his tongue does. Dreamily, the thought of him being so in sync with you that he can feel the intimate beatings of your inner organ sends you into a spiral of heightened satisfaction.

“Leehan, I’m gonna come.”

Even with your eyes closed, you can almost hear the smirk in his voice as he says, “My favorite four words in the world. Go ahead, baby. I’ve got you.”

Somehow, you think your body needed that permission, because it’s only moments later that your orgasm takes over your body. 

Your eyelids are covered with dancing spirals, your spine bends as you arch up into the air, and your body vibrates with a feeling so pleasurable it’s like an addiction, something you’d endure the greatest emotional lows to receive on a regular basis.

As you still, Leehan gets up to sit on his knees, looking over at your bedside dresser. “Still have the condoms where I left them?”

“Top drawer,” you confirm.

“Good girl,” he praises with a smile, reaching over you to rummage through the drawer and coming out of it with a silver packet between his fingers. 

It’s just as he’s finished putting it on and is about to slide in that you raise a hand to stop him, saying, “Leehan wait. I wanna ride you.”

His eyebrows raise at this, but he nonetheless maneuvers so that he’s in a criss-cross position, saying with a grin, “Woah. I feel lucky. You never get on top. Make me do all the work.”

“Shut up,” you grumble, making your way over to him and holding onto his shoulders as you hover over his hardened cock. But before you can take him, he roughly grabs your chin, squeezing your face in his hold in a way that forces your eyes on his.

“Make me,” he asserts, staring at you so intensely that it makes your stomach swoop. Reaching between your bodies, you grab hold of his pulsing erection and line it up with your hole, sinking down on him and loving the way it makes both of your mouths instantly open on impact.

It feels like you’re being split open in the most pleasurable way as you sit down fully on Leehan’s cock and allow the satisfcation of being filled by him to consume you. Driven by the pursuit of your own pleasure, you bounce, swivel, and thrust yourself against him. And when Leehan throws his head back, beautiful neck on display as he growls, “You’re so tight, Y/N,” you’re motivated to go even harder.

Sex with Leehan has never felt more intimate than it does now, when you’re above him and able to catch every small distortion in his gorgeous expression as he gets taken away by the gratification of this sex. Mantaining eye contact with him is nothing new to you now, but even so, you find yourself feeling like his eyes are admiring your soul more than they are your body or face as you bounce up and down for his viewing pleasure.

With your arms wrapped around his neck, you’re skin to skin, heart to heart, and in a way you almost feel like the closeness grants you the telepathic ability to know what he’s feeling and thinking. If there were to be a physical manifestation of the word yearning , it would be this exact moment between the two of you. 

Your expression melts into a smirk as you continue to ride him, and you feel almost motivated to giggle as the pleasure you’re experiencing makes you feel deliriously satisfied and happy. Leehan, with his hands leisurely rested at his sides, scans your face as if trying to memorize every detail, saying, “You make the prettiest expressions when my dick is inside of you. I truly can’t – nphhh – get enough.”

It’s as you begin to set a pace that has the tip of his cock kissing your g-spot with every bounce that you yearn for him to touch you, to light your skin on fire with the warmth of his touch. Anywhere. Everywhere. “Leehan, touch me .”

And it’s because he’s come to know your body so well, know exactly what makes you tick and what places to touch that have you crying in pleasure, he brings his hand to your clit and starts rubbing incoherent shapes into your swelling bud. Your body feels like it’s on fire, so much so that you begin to lose strength in your trembling thighs, something Leehan picks up on as he says almost desperately, “Faster, Y/N. Take it.”

You have to fight through the strain in your legs and the building tension in your stomach in order to begin bouncing on Leehan so hard it’s as if your life depends on it. And though it feels like it’s taking all of the energy in your body, you do it because you want to make him feel good. 

You do it because you want him to continue thinking of you as his favorite girl, even though that statement in itself implies the existence of other girls. 

Even though it feels like every morsel of your self-esteem is shattered in the process, you do it because his attention means so much to you that it blurs everything else.

“ Fuck , I’m gonna come,” you cry out as the pleasure becomes too much, as it begins to feels like everything else in your vision is obscured except for Leehan.

“Open your mouth,” you hear him say, and although your sex-crazed mind can barely comprehend why he’s asking you that, you comply anyways and feel your arousal growing stronger when, to your surpise, he tips your head back with a hand on your jaw and spits into your mouth.

The gesture is dirty and lewd and yet a moan rips out of you just the same, and the closer that your orgasm inches, the less you feel like you’re in control of your body or your reactions. Every thought and will in your brain has been diluted so that your only objective is to reach your peak.

“You like that, pretty?” he asks teasingly, his own orgasm approaching in a way that causes his voice to come out strained and tight. “Let me see what a dirty girl you are. Come all over my cock.”

Whimpers of his name leave your mouth in broken succession, the robustness of your orgasm milking you until your body quite literally collapses against his. And it’s after giving everything that your body could give, your legs trembling and your body screaming out in exhaustion, that Leehan takes over by thrusting wildly up into you. In search of his own climax, you can only whimper weakly into the skin of his neck and allow him to manhandle your limp body up and down his cock.

“I know, I know,” he coos apolgetically in your ear, fucking up into you hard and firmly. “I”m close. Gonna come inside your pretty little pussy.”

With a last thrust so impactful that it resonates throughout your entire body, Leehan releases into his condom, twisting his hips inside of you before pulling out with a groan. You collapse onto the bed together, and even though you can barely feel anything in the bottom half of your body, even though you have the foreboding inclination that it’ll be hard to walk later, you still can’t help the foolish smile that appears automatically on your face. There is no greater high than basking in your post-orgasm haze.

The stillness of the moments you share after sex is something you cling onto every time, wishing that the universe would mercifully turn those seconds of blissful and intimate silence between the two of you into minutes. But like the distant sound of thunder that lets you know that it’s going to rain, you feel the bed dip with the weight of Leehan sitting up, knowing that it’s only a matter of time before he sees himself out.

“You made a mess,” you hear him say as he picks at the fabric of your sheets where, sure enough, the white sheets have been soiled grey. The comment gives you slight butterflies, and as you manage a weak smile, about to reply with something snarky, he says, “Want me to stay behind? Do your laundry?”

If only for a few seconds, you allow yourself to consider the possibility that he’s being serious. That for the first time since you met him, he’s actually going to stay behind and take care of you instead of leaving you wet and limp and naked and sad. You hate how good those few seconds of belief feel. That just the idea of how doing something as simple as your laundry could make you feel so fulfilled and wanted.

At first you’re not sure what to think when he leans down to gently caress the hair on top of your head. But then, with an almost pitying expression on his face, he replies, “I’m just joking. If I hang around for too long, how would you miss me?”

There have been lots of times when Leehan has shown his lack of regard for you in his actions, but never in his words.

So to hear him plainly confirm to you that this is all a game to him, that it’s always been his intention to leave you strung out and wanting more, that he knows the emotional impact his absence causes, hits you like a slap in the face.

He doesn’t have to hide how little he cares about you because he knows that no matter how he treats you, you’ll always come back.

Haven’t you proven that exact notion to him time and time again?

“See you later, Y/N,” he says as he’s leaving your bedroom, a statement that he can make with confidence because you’ve shown him time and time again that he can walk all over you and still be guaranteed access to your body, mind and soul.

And as the reality of the situation that you’ve found yourself in hits you all at once, it’s at the sound of your front door closing that you begin to cry on impact.

Tears that feel endless begin to pour out onto your cheeks until you’re open-mouthed sobbing, and because you’ve spent so long holding these emotions back, they wreck your body until you have no energy left and devolve into soundless heaves.

You fall asleep like this, so emotionally wrecked and confused that you forgot about the three essays you were supposed to submit. 

You’re on the verge of tears as you enter your advisor’s office, sitting down across from the older woman whose passive expression tells you everything you need to know about the sort of news she’s about to deliver to you. But it’s with surprising clarity that you react to her saying, “Y/N, you’ve failed almost every single one of your classes this term.”

You stare blankly at her, processing the emotions that come over you at this news. It’s suprsing to say that the immediate feeling that comes over you is relief, but you owe it to the fact that you’ve been struggling this entire semester, plagued with anxiety as to whether or not you’d fail. And so, to have it finally confirmed after months of stressing about it feels similarly to being in the eye of a storm. 

After struggling for so long, you’re at a vantage point where it feels more comforting to be able to say that all that’s left is for you to fight your way out of the storm entirely. 

“Typically, when students have such large and sudden drops in performance like this, it’s because of some significant life event,” she explains, tilting her head as she looks at you pitifully. “Given that you’re a transfer student, I’m wondering if the transition from your old school to this one had an impact on your performance. Are you finding the academic rigor here harder?”

“No, maam,” you say, shaking your head. Academically, this school has been everything you had been hoping for and more since deciding to transfer. You couldn’t have expected to meet someone who so greatly turned your life around within a matter of months. 

Not sure how to explain the unique set of circumstances leading up to this moment, you vaguely answer, “I’ve just…transparently had a lot going on this semester in my personal life. So I haven’t been as great at prioritizing my classes.”

Humming in understanding, your advisor moves to face her computer. “Well, I’m afraid the next steps are to put you on academic probation for the rest of this semester. Are you aware of what that all entails?”

You shake your head no. Your advisor goes on to explain it to you. “You’ll need to maintain at least a 2.5 grade point average moving forward. Additionally, you’ll be given a tutor – another student who you’ll be mandated to meet with at least once a week to get your grades up.”

There a few telltale clicking sounds from her computer before she’s speaking up again to say, “It looks like the only available tutor for this semester is a student named Han Taesan. Do you know him?”

Admittedly only familiar with the few people who Jaehyun’s introduced you to, you shake your head no. You then have to try and push off the dread that builds inside of you at the thought of having to meet with a stranger once a week for the next two or so months until the semester ends.

You perk up as you watch your advisor’s eyebrows lift in surprise at something on her computer “It looks like he actually has office hours open right now until three. So, after this, I recommend you go see him and introduce yourself. It’s important that you get started right away so that you can begin correcting this situation. The last thing we’d want is for your financial aid to be affected, which – I should mention – will happen if you fail your classes again, Y/N.”

It’s at this warning that the reality of the situation finally hits you. 

As stupid as it now sounds, all of the times when you allowed Leehan to take up so much of your time in lieu of submitting your assignments were aided by a blind faith on your part that everything would work out in the end. 

But it’s in grave realization that you see how much you were gambling with your future by making such poor decisions. 

And with that feeling of shame and embarrassment weighing down on you so heavily, you leave your advisor's office a few short moments later, heading to the library to meet Taesan. 

As you’re leaving, you feel your phone buzzing in your pocket and unlock it to read a text that could not be more ill timed:

>leehan: what are you doing?

There couldn’t be any worse moment now than to receive such a message, after you’ve just been told that you could potentially lose your scholarship over your mindless decision making in regards to this man. And for perhaps the first time since you’ve met Leehan, you decide to let go of this manic-pixie-dream-girl image you’ve created for yourself, typing out a message that relays the completely honesty of your current situation.

>you: leehan, i failed my midterms. They’re putting me on academic probation and i might lose my scholarship. I don’t know that i’ll have much time for our “arrangement” anymore.

You stuff your phone back in your pocket right after sending it, caring little to know what Leehan will say in response. 

It’s in realization that you finally decide that making Leehan’s every thought, feeling and desire a priority in your life is a luxury you can no longer afford.

Arriving at the library a few minutes later, you wa;lw inside and observe how empty the place is. You suppose it makes sense given that most students have left for their fall break by now, not beholden to stay behind because of failing grades like you are. There’s a boy sitting by himself at one of the many tables in the library, a laptop and a few books surrounding him. You decide he’s the most likely to be the person you’re looking for and go up to approach him.

“Excuse me, are you Han Taesan?”

The boy, whose hair is uniquely marked by a streak of blonde in the back of it, looks up at you and nods.

“I’m not sure if you got the notification,” you say, pulling at your fingernails nervously. “But I’ve been assigned a tutor and you’re it. My advisor told me to meet with you today.”

Understanding finally dawning on the boy’s face, he puts down the screen of his laptop so he can fully pay attention to you and your presence. “Okay. What’s your name?”

“Y/N.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/N,” he says, and even though everything from his voice and manners should have you inclined to feel less nervous, there’s something about his facial features that have you feeling intimidated. 

He’s quite good looking, but in a way that makes him seem unapproachable. 

“If you’ve been assigned to meet with me, that means you’re on academic probation, correct?”

Something about hearing those words, the assignment of your name next to the phrase academic probation , feels like a knife to the stomach. Still, the only thing you can do is nod grimly, and without intending it, you launch defensively into an explanation. “It’s not something I’m in the habit of, if that’s what you’re wondering. This is my first time, truly, and it’s just because I had a lot going on this semester.”

You expect Taesan to appear annoyed with you, just as you are with yourself when you hear those words leave your mouth. But you’re surprised when instead, he smiles. And when he does, it’s like the intimidating persona you built of him in your head immediately shatters and in place of it, you’re introduced to someone that seems really sweet.

“Listen, I know you’re probably feeling like a total failure right now. I know cause I’ve been there. But you don’t have to explain yourself to me, Y/N. The last thing I want to do is make you feel judged for something that so many students go through,” he explains, shrugging his shoulders to further communicate how little of an issue this is for him. 

“Most of the time, the people I tutor don’t even need me. They’re not dumb, they just were going through something that made them deprioritize their classes. We’ve all been there before. I’m just here to be an accountability partner and help you manage the stress.”

Fighting against all the parts of you that have been feeling shame in response to today’s development, you allow Taesan’s reassurance to wash over you like a cold drink on a swelteringly hot day. 

“You’re…really nice, Taesan,” you reply, thinking of no better way to express your gratitude. “I really needed to hear that.”

“No problem. If you’re free, we can go somewhere else and begin working on those late assignments. I don’t really like staying at the library because we’ll be forced to whisper like this the whole time.”

It’s only at his observation that you become conscious of the fact that you have been indeed whispering this entire time, and it is in fact, very burdensome. “Yeah, you’re totally right. Are you cool with coming to my dorm? I live on campus, in Commons.”

Grabbing his things, he gets up to follow you, and it’s at that moment that you realize just how tall Taesan is. “Sure. Let’s do it.”

Just as you’re about to leave with Taesan, you feel your phone buzzing in your pocket once more. And because you completely forgot about your earlier exchange with Leehan, you don’t even consider that the message could be from him until a picture that you’re immediately swiping out of lights up your phone screen.

>leehan: he misses you :((((( [img_6785]

The image in question is a dick pic, a full frontal image with Leehan’s smartly masked face just barely peeking out at the top as he angles his phone downward. 

You go from surprised to disgusted as you remember what the picture is in response to – a candid expression of anxiety about your academic probabtion – and suddenly, you couldn’t be more sure of the negative impact that Leehan has had on your life.

More sure that if you never heard from him after today, it would be the universe's greatest gift.

“Are you okay?” asks Taesan from beside you, and it’s with great gratitude that you observe his reaction is not that of someone who accidentally saw a dick pic on someone elses phone. Steeling yourself from the shock of the unexpected message, you hum an affirmative sounding noise in reply, and with that, you exit the library. 

You walk together to your dorm that’s only 5 minutes away from the library, and as you walk, you discuss a variety of things. How and why Taesan became a tutor, the circumstances which led to you transferring from your old school, and observations on how empty campus seems to be right now. Taesan, a music major, became a tutor once he learned he could get paid for what he already liked to do, which was teach people. The more you talk to him, the more assured you feel about this arraignment and your situation at large. 

More importantly, Taesan has the ability to do something you thought no man or object could be capable of – he takes your mind off of Leehan, and moreover the picture you just received from him.

Arriving at your front door, you can feel Taesan’s eyes on you as he says, “When I started my day today, I would’ve never guessed it would lead me to a girl’s dorm room.” You giggle at the genuinely funny joke, and now, you’re looking up at Taesan as if you’re fully seeing him for the first time. 

In just a short amount of time, you’re learned that Taesan is handsome, smart, nice, and funny. 

Perhaps something other than good grades could come of this time you’re about to spend together. 

In the time that you spend looking at Taesan, still smiling in the aftermath of his joke as you let him into your dorm room, you don’t notice the fact that Leehan is waiting for you down the hallway, armed once more with a bouquet of flowers. 

After last time, he figured surprise visits would be his thing now, especially since he knew your roommate wouldn’t be there to stop him. 

He wasn’t expecting, though, that there would be someone else who would act as a barrier between the two of you. 

Someone who causes unexplainable anger and resentment to blossom unusually in his chest. 

It’s in a blur of confusion – both at himself for reacting this way and at you for being with someone other than him – that Leehan turns around and rushes for the building’s exit before either of you can see him.

part 4 can be found HERE

taglist: @lailols @papichulomacy @0310s @softiwoon @gardenforwon @cherrytaesan @mryuyux @saintriots @lonelylandofan @cyber-tiny @keyywrld @isabellah29 @amarecerasus @cadidupped

comment or send an ask to be added to the taglist!

[justkillingthyme]

oh puts the entire au in my MOUTH this is so cool. immediate thoughts of: - luke language barrier... aw poor buddy. i can just imagine the frustration of ''man what the hell, i can talk to THOSE animals just fine, why not THESE ones'' - tbh fascinated and delighted by feral luke just on the face of it. kid who is weird and scampers. this little beast is a bite risk - ohh emmy girlie you can't catch a break huh... yeah the person who was raised in a cult WOULD be susceptible to cult tactics wouldn't she - FLORA MENTIONED WOOOO FLORA 💪🔥💯 i'm so interested in how st. mystere is handling the apocalypse considering the Everything about the situation. you can have an adoptive guardian airdropped to you like a wolf being released into yellowstone but watch out! The Consequences.

It’s 2:43 am and I’m on the verge of tears laughing at the Hershel Layton airdropping

The golems that found St. Mystere luckily are more of a “oh these poor primitive robots <:3) than “I NEED to kill humankind’s creations” luckily. St Mystere (and its humans) are treated more like watching animals and giving them enrichment every so often. They haven’t figured out how to enlighten (or give true consciousness) to the bots, but they’re working on it. Father figure airdrop!

Hershel is Literally Just Some Guy now. Because what is he without all his trauma, and that’s all gone. Relatively, he’s the most well adjusted of everyone which is saying something.

He relates a lot to the puzzle solving robots (autism) and doesn’t know exactly why that is but they’re just vibing with this slightly eccentric guy that lives there now. Bruno is more skeptical, but Flora is ecstatic at having another live human person to talk to, so he lets it go.

Emmy’s so susceptible to cult tactics it’s not even funny. She doesn’t remember anything, much less targent, and these girls saved her so why shouldn’t she trust them? Who is she to deny them if they need help? It’s not like she has anywhere else to go. She doesn’t even know who she is.

Luke is feral. He can and will bite. Literal child raised by cat (Keats is very tame but they come across a few animals that influence how Luke behaves) who will hiss. He does chomp Des a few times. They have to do the thing you do with cats where you just sit in the room with them until they’re comfortable because he hides under the bed for days after he’s on the Bostonius. He understands parts of English, but Keats is more fluent than him. Cause canonically Keats knows English. Fun fact

[silvermoon424]

so hey, question! i've been wanting to start learning how torrent(ing?) works so i can take screenshots and make gifs easier (i miss making precure gifs so bad), but i have genuinely no idea how any of that kinda stuff works. would you maybe have a guide or explanation thingy that i could check out? i think i maybe remember seeing you post one a while ago but i can not find it for the life of me. i'm planning on getting stuff from nyaa.si if that helps?

sorry if this is a weird question and dont feel obligated to answer if you don't wanna! <3

Hello @wazzuppy!

Here is my guide on piracy in general. It includes links on guides on how to torrent, VPNs to use, sites to use, etc, so I think you're set!

I will narrow things down and make it more specific for you though:

Here is the guide on torrenting (the act of torrenting itself is easy btw, literally all you have to do is click a button and it pretty much does the work itself lol. It's getting the right VPN, finding torrent sites, avoiding bad torrents [which won't be an problem on Nyaa or other legit sites] that's the issue)

For VPNs, if you plan on using a VPN exclusively for torrenting I recommend going with Mullvad. Mullvad is not going to let you stream from other countries on Netflix or whatever, and it's so strong that I can't even use Airdrop on my Mac when it's active. However, it's by far the most secure VPN for torrenting you can use. DO NOT use highly advertised VPNs like NordVPN; I used Nord and I got busted by my ISP multiple times even though I had it active. Stuff like NordVPN and SurfShark is fine for doing stuff like streaming Netflix, but for torrenting, you really need a VPN that's exclusively dedicated to protecting you from your ISP finding out what you're doing. Another VPN that is recommended is AirVPN, which still uses port-forwarding (I don't really know what that means but a lot of heavy-duty torrent users find it important).

For the torrent client itself, I recommend qBittorrent. It's an excellent torrent client, especially for beginners thanks to its user-friendly interface.

Also, just a note, Mullvad will be $5 a month (AirVPN has multiple price points depending on how long you want to sign up for) while everything else is free. But you definitely don't want to skimp on a VPN, trust me.

Let me know if you have any other questions! :)

[matthewsgreybubbles]

People seriously need to stop spinning things and making it out to be creepy and that he’s a pedophile ffs. Yes, he’s asked fans to airdrop their fan pictures they just took together with him to him. Yes, he’s taken fan pictures with his phone before. Yes, he’s taken pictures of a fan with his mother because they shared the same birthday. Stop spinning it into something it’s not.

Okay yes there really wasn't anything weird on that video it was just fun to see his face on a bikini. If someone printed my face on a bikini I would probably react the same way he did because that's hilarious.

[blair-s-world]

Simulation Cartridge

You visit Budapest to attend Sziget Festival. You meet Alex.

This is the first part. 

Mentions of smoking.

No fluff or smut or angst. Just building the story.

Also remember this?

It was the last day of the festival. The line up was perfect. Not to forget, you saw one of your favourite bands. The Arctic Monkeys. The set was everything a fan could dream of. You and your friends were thankful that you got to experience it.

You and your girls come back to the hotel room, all laughing and dancing. Two of your friends just passed out in their room. You and your bestfriend were sitting on the floor and having last drinks before sleeping. It was just to commemorate your success of this girls trip. Both of you start to show each other photos that were clicked, of the group and the acts.

You happen to stumble upon a specific photo of Alex. In this faded shirt that your friend took, you immediately ask her to airdrop it to you. She looks at you confused. But does it.

The photo:

Both of you weren’t sleepy at all, so you decide to go on a stroll outside. Summer in Budapest was calm. You tried finding a decent place that was open and there was a small bar with twinkling lights just around the corner. Both of you went in and ordered yourself a whiskey coke. You don’t know why you did so, there was a weird electricity in you tonight. Again, you and your best friend did chat about anything and everything that was possible.

Thirty minutes into all this, you notice a guy approaching your friend. You push her to make conversation. He was tall, had a very different accent, he had brown and blonde hair. Both of them were in deep in their own little world. You took this as a cue to go outside for a smoke, whiskey made you smoker.

You take your drink and you go outside and sat on the porch. Fumbling through your bag to find your pack. You find you lighter instead. You were desperate. You give up and growl, “ fuck me”

“ Already? ” you hear a manly voice

You look around and you see a guy smoking, not looking at you, you murmur a sorry to him.

He doesn’t look at you still but asks , “ lost something? ” and smiles, you could see his muscles soften, you smile at him, first you keep your hands on your hips then run your left hand in your hair, “ Uhm yeah yeah, I was looking for my smokes. I guess I forgot to keep it, or I’m just too tired to look for it or I don’t know… ”

He puts his hand, in his jean pocket and brings out a pack, gives you a smoke. You jog in your heels to get it, whisper a Thankyou and get to your old place.

You don’t try to look at him and he doesn’t try to impress you either but both of you could feel the tension around.

What tension?

The dim lit porch, chatter and music in background, yellow lights & smoke in the air.

Both of you felt alone together.

The man clears his throat and comes near you as he plans to walk in. You examine him. He smiles at you and you smile at him.

You stub your cigarette after a while & went inside to see your bestfriend is still chatting up with the guy. You smile at her and you look around and you notice the same man, sitting with a group of his friends. You ask the bar man to send a glass of whiskey towards that man asking what he was drinking. You take the bar pen and scribble a thank you for the smoke on a napkin and asked if same could be sent out along. The bar man did so.

You didn’t do any of this to flirt. You did because you felt so. Remember the electricity?

Your bestfriend looks at you and asks you things & starts ranting about this man she was talking. There’s a good chance they sleep in tonight.

“ So, he is here after work. He works at a construction company. I suppose he lays concrete. God, his eyes… ” you best friend blabbed

The bar man comes back to you with a note in his hand that read -

Pleasure & thank you. - Alexander

Your best friend stops and asks, “ who is this Alexander & why is he taking any kind of pleasure? And why is he thanking you? WHAT DID YOU DO??? ” she whisper shouts.

" he gave me a smoke & i returned the favour w a drink ”, you said as you look at his side and to her.

Your bestfriend starts to follow your gaze, and slaps your arm, “ Alexander? You mean Alex? Dude you just had a smoke with Alex Turner from the Arctic Monkeys. ” she responds looking at you and him alternately.

“ what, wait what? ” you look at her and the man.

That’s when it comes to reality. Yes. That man was indeed Alex. You were so drunk. You didn’t realise anything. Both of you laugh out at each other.

You look at the man who was looking at you now and you gesture with your index finger and your middle finger for another smoke and he nods.

You bestfriend vanished as her god of a man was back.

You were again back at the porch. With Alex by your side but no words spoken. He lights a cigarette and gives it to you. But doesn’t light one for himself yet. You mouth a thank you to him.

You start humming the tune of Sculptures of Anything goes

Within both of you chuckle and burst into laughter.

“ so you know who I am ” he still isn’t looking at you.

“ took me a minute but I did, sorry I didn’t want to make it awkward for you. And honestly, I really needed a smoke. ” you gesture to the cigarette in your hand.

He takes a fag as you hold on to the light.

“ Mhm.

It’s okay.

Wanna go for a walk? ” he said as he looks at the way out.

You look at him and try to look in the bar towards your friend who is still talking to the guy. God she’s a chatter.

“ yes. Just take a lap? ” you respond & adjust your jacket.

Both of you start walking. He walked at you pace. You examine him. God. He was wearing the same shirt as he did in the gig. He looked so comfortable without any effort.

“ so what brings you here? Ms. ? ” he asked. Again not looking at you.

“ Miss Y/N. the festival. Girls trip. ” you replied as you look at your shoes.

“ did you watch us? ”

“ Yes. ”

“ did you like it? ”

“ Yes. ”

Much for a conversation.

Much for a conversation where he is not looking at you.

“ why don’t you look me when you talk to me? ” you asked him hurriedly.

He stopped walking. Looked at you. Deep in your eyes. Stern with his muscles. You could feel his breath on you this time.

“ because the first time I did, it made me come ahead for a smoke and walk w you ” he said without an emotion.

Both of you continue walking. No words exchanged.

Never did you expect to enjoy silence with someone. That too with a man like him?

Both of you reach the porch again. You see your best friend and the guy waving at you and you realise that she’s leaving.

“ You know her ” He asked you.

“ That’s my friend. I guess she is going to have a good night. ” you chuckled.

“ what about you? ” he asks

“ me? ” you ask with a shock

“ yes, you. Miss y/n ” he spoke w a lower tone

“ guess I’ll go back to the room. Listen to music. Not yours. But just waste time you know. ” you didn’t think before speaking and your face change as he looked at you.

“ I can listen to your music aswell. ” you responded in order to make a compensation. You were really star stuck. Hm.

“ waste your time with me? ” a smile formed on his face.

•••

Join in the tag list via DMs.

Feedback appreciated.

•••

[fandomsoda]

Airdropping a new character on y’all

This is Annulus! He’s an old OC I dug up and spruced up for modern use!

He’s a conceptual fusion (not literally a fusion of the characters themselves, but of their concepts) of Dream and Nightmare and is a chaotic mess of an emotional protector. He’s supposed to be keeping the balance but he’s constantly being thrown into chaos and weird situations. His moral compass is a roulette wheel and he’s just generally Doing His Best™️. He’s heavily bug-themed because I noticed that the DT siblings each kind of have a certain type of animal theming (Dream has a lot of wing and bird imagery, NM a lot of deep sea life inspo) and thus I just chose another heavily nonhuman animal classification to make him.

Technically speaking he’s not actually related to the Dreamtale siblings, but he is very much their found family and I’d very much prefer if everyone treated him as if he were their brother.

Also clarifying right now- Annulus is very much an insect, not an arachnid. Those extra little pincer things are called cerci! Also the weird eclipse halo thing he has is optional and decorative, not essential to his design just a pretty little thing.

more info under the cut! :3

Annulus is also a tree spirit, and he originates from Celestialtale (name subject to change)! He has his own apples, which are. A ride.

They can instantly stabilize an emotionally disregulated person but if someone who is emotionally stable eats one, they get assigned a random disregulation, like a sudden emotional status condition. So yeah just be careful with those. Also they look like this!

Additional clarifications:

his little wing-looking cape thing is two pieces!

He’s so part-bug that his bone structure is actually slightly different!

Observe :3

that’s about all for now, hope you like him! Also he’s open for asks, you can ask him (or me about him) anything!

[earhartsease]

Chimborazo is an amazing phenomenon - it's an extinct volcano in the Ecuadorean Andes

and while Everest is the highest mountain above sea level, Chimborazo is something else: because it's almost on the equator (and the earth is an oblate spheroid, which means it bulges around the middle), the peak of Chimborazo is the highest point (or as the wiki article says poetically, the utmost point) from the centre of the earth

and what this means is that if you go up there and then jump up and down, gravity is noticeably less than at sea level

we have always longed to do this - we're a wheelchair user now so we'd have to be airdropped, and our jumping up and down days are over, but we'd still love to see it and feel it - anyway we thought you'd like to know about it and look isn't it pretty

and the only reason we know about it is a very weird chain of events in which near the end of 2000, we were on a solitary retreat and over the course of three days had an entire novel dumped into our psyche out of nowhere, which made us go and look stuff up when we got home

this novel is never going to get finished because we just don't have the spoons, but we can tell you that one plot point concerns the head of Orpheus making its way from the greek islands (with the artist Augustus Earle) to the Beagle (Darwin's exploratory ship), getting left on one of the Galápagos islands by Darwin, taken to Ecuador by Melville (he of Moby-Dick), and then taken to England by Edward Whymper, the first white guy to climb Chimborazo - thus incidentally causing the eruption of Krakatoa (where Orpheus' genitals were being kept - it's an equilibrium thing)

do not ask us to explain where any of this came from because we have no idea, it's one of the weirder things that has happened to us

[angelfanqs]

I hate flirting, I'm not good at it

My idea of flirting is me saying "look down, I just airdropped a baby inside of you. Can you feel baby Jesus in your womb?" And immediately expecting everyone to want to be inside of me, but no, apparently you can't just say the first thing that comes to mind when flirting, because I can say "weird" things (⁠〒⁠﹏⁠〒⁠)

𓆩 minors dni please ♡ men dni I genuinely want every one of you singlehandedly murdered in the street 𓆪

[nick--knack]

Top 5 tanks?

Oh boy.

If there is one thing that I absolutely love, it is tanks that look goofy. Tanks that are, in the words of @the-history-chap, a bit of a fucked up creature. There are a bunch which I could think of and it was a little hard putting together this list, choosing only the best of the best without this list running on forever, but I hope it was worth the wait.

5. the Antonov A-40

When dropping a tank from the sky, while doable at a very low altitude there are several inconveniences such as the vehicle needing to be in a certain gear lest it break and the crew needing to be dropped separately which burns time for deployment. As such, there have been several attempts to create a flying tank - one of which being the USSR's own Antonov A-40. Designed by a man named Oleg Antonov, the Antonov A-40 is built to glide from the air onto the battlefield with the crew already inside of it which would reduce the deployment into war by mere minutes

The Antonov A-40 is essentially just a T-60 but with wings attached to it. The wings are detachable and built to fall off once it hit the ground and in order to be light enough for air use, its armament, ammunition, headlights, and almost all of its fuel is removed. Some sources say that even the turret is removed aswell. A test flight which involved it being towed by a TB-3 bomber was conducted in 1942 but even with all its modifications, the A-40 shown itself to be far too heavy leaving the project to be abandoned.

Regardless of whether or not the tank could fly, the A-40 still has its issues. The deployment of the tank could take extra time due to having to shed its wings and since the fuel and munitions are taken out of the tank those things would have to be airdropped separately. In trying to invent a tank that would deploy quickly, Anton ended up creating one which would likely take the same amount of time if not more with more inconveniences. Apparently the T-60 itself isn't that good of a tank either, though I don't really know anything about that one so I don't have anything to say about it.

I totally understand why someone would create a tank like this but at the same time, there is something inherently funny to me about a tank with wings. The Japanese also tried to make a flying tank called the Maeda Ku-6 (So-Ra) however not only did that tank also look ridiculous but it too was a failure. Regardless of that, I would love to see a tank that can not only fly but work efficiently.

4. the Tsar Tank

The early years leading up to and during WW1 were the most fun in terms of coming up with new and wacky designs for tanks but the Tsar Tank really takes the cake in terms of weird and wacky. Designed by a small team, this massive hunk of machinery is an entire 30ft in height and requires a crew of 10 people to operate. According to the memoirs of Lebedenko, one of the engineers, the inspiration for this machine came about from Turkic carts which he noticed were able to easily traverse bumps and ditches thanks to their large wheels.

In January 1915, Lebedenko presented a wooden model of the tank to Nicholas II and the two of them played around with it a little. The tsar was enamoured with how easily it was able to roll across the carpet and over books, so much so that he personally funded the project with over 210,000 roubles and kept the wooden model.

Only 1 was built and it didn't take many tests before the tank proved itself to be unusable. The biggest issue with the tank is that, with the balance of weight being very important in these machines, the Tsar Tank puts all its weight onto 3 small pressure plates thus making it very easy for the tank to get stuck in soft ground and mud. And it did get stuck almost immediately at the start of its first test run. Not even having the most powerful engines at the time - two Maybach engines - were enough to pull it back out. Time and time again, it would go through failed test after failed test until September 1915 when the project was cancelled and any attempt to pull the tank out of the test area weren't successful. The tank was guarded in its test site until it was abandoned due to the outbreak of the Russian Revolution, then dismantled for scrap in 1923.

I love this thing it looks so absurd. I'm sure if I was some poor German bastard on the eastern front and I saw this massive hunk of machinery slowly rolling towards me I would shit myself. Why in gods name is it built like that? Ohhhhhhh it is so shape. I absolutely love it. I wish that the original wasn't disassembled because I would kill to see this thing in real life in all its absurd glory.

3. the Renault FT

While there were many different tank designs sprouting up with the idea of armoured warfare spreading across Europe, there are very few whose designs would prove to be revolutionary and be used as a reference for tank designs in the future. One of those tanks was the light tank Renault FT, with its configuration (crew at the front, engine at the back, and fully revolving turret) becoming the standard tank layout.

The Renault FT is a French tank designed by a man named Louis Renault, who began working on the idea in the late December of 1915. Whereas the previous tanks at the time were designed to be large and heavy, the engineer behind the design of this vehicle wanted to create a small and light tank that could maneuver better, be harder to hit, and could be fielded in large numbers. Of course, thousands of these tanks were ordered but most were not finished until after the war and as a result these tanks ended up being exported all over the world. The Renault FT was in service all the way till the Soviet-Afghan War.

The first time that the Renault FT was deployed was on May 31 1918, only 6 months before the end of WW1. It was used by French forces and the American Expeditionary Forces (AEF) and played a central role in the offensives of 1918, giving it the name "Victory Tank".

I like the Renault FT because it is very cute :). I really wish I had more to say about it, though, and I actually made one awhile ago. 10/10 tank, would ride.

2. the toaster tank A7V

After the first British tanks appeared on the Western Front in September 1918, the Germans were quick to invent something of their own much like it. Something big. Something metal. This is when the A7V came into existence and let me tell you, this tank was very bad.

Designed by Joseph Vollmer, this giant hunk of metal requires at least 18 crew members to operate but often times they were sent into battle with as many as 25 on board. The engine of the tank is situated right at the centre of it, giving off noise and toxic fumes and the amount of ammunition that it carried only further reduced the space inside. The driver had very poor vision. The "body" of the tank sitting so low to the ground and the overhang at the front makes it difficult to cross bumpy and muddy terrain, leaving the tank to mostly ride over flat terrains and roads where it at least there it can be used to its fullest potential. I guess that the powerful engine and 6 machine guns peeking out of it on all sides made it a real force to be a reckoned with but with all these limitations it has and its ridiculous appearance I just can't imagine it that way. No wonder Germany didn't consider this tank a success.

Even though the A7V is generally considered better designed due to its British counterparts, the goal of building 100 of these tanks was impossible to reach due to its complexity and cost. As a result only 20 were built, each with their own unique little features as they were built by hand and with great quality. The British gave this tank the title "moving fortress" for its appearance, being big and boxy and yet surprisingly fast. Ultimately, with having such a little impact on the battlefield, the A7V was more of a propaganda tool than an actual machine of war.

This tank fucking sucked, but it sucked in a funny way which is why I like it. I will give the Germans some slack, though, because it was made during a time where people were still trying to figure out how to build tanks but when your tank requires 18 people to operate I think you should start reconsidering some things. I also like calling it the toaster tank because of that one tweet which I redrew. I love the A7V. Very funny.

1. the Burstyn-Motorgeschütz

I'm sure you saw this coming. It's on my banner after all and I even wrote an essay on it once in the past, though that was a very long time ago so I shall write a second one. My #1 favourite tank of all time is none other than the Austro-Hungarian Burstyn-Motorgeschütz.

The idea for the Motorgeschütz first arose when an inventor named Günther Burstyn went on a torpedo boat trip with his brother whom was a marine officer. Burstyn was impressed by the ships speed, power, and protection and began to think of the idea of a land vehicle with the same qualities which could be used for warfare. It should be armoured, capable of off-road maneuvers, and be able to cross trenches. This idea crossed his mind once more as he went to an exhibition in Vienna and witnessed the Austro-Daimler Panzerautomobil, being one of the first armoured cars in history. He saw the potential, but at the same time thought that the four small wheels were a big limitation as it wouldn't be able to cross rough and muddy terrain - something that was essential to be able to navigate in a battlefield. Burstyn then moved one last time, travelling to Trento where he would witness heavy guns equipped with caterpillar chains to reduce ground pressure. All of these experiences combined would lead him to create what we now know as the Motorgeschütz, designed in Austria in 1911.

The design of the Motorgeschütz is very simple, and the reason for that is because its blueprint actually lacked a lot of detail. Due to this, the only thing that Burstyn was allowed to patent were the arms as those were the only detailed parts of the Motorgeschütz. From what we can gather, though, the design of the Motorgeschütz is surprisingly sleek and "modern-looking". Inside the turret two gunners would sit with their backs to each other as a third, the driver, would sit in a compartment behind the turret and pass on rounds of ammunition to the gunners. In that area is also storage for fuel, oil, and the ammunition.

The most distinct part of the design is, of course, the two arms on each side of the tank. These arms are movable and would help the vehicle overcome various obstacles, the front arms being operated by the front gunner while the back arms are operated by the crew member in the rear compartment. Unfortunately, the way that the levers are installed would make them hard to reach with the turret in certain positions. Whether or not the arms would even help the vehicle cross obstacles in the first place is a question that still remains as balancing the weight of a tank is a very important thing and lifting it in such a way would mean that the weight would be transferred to one side, causing the tank to sink into soft or muddy ground.

This project of Burstyn's never became popular, first taking it up to the Austrian War Ministry only to hear back from them 3 months later that they didn't want to fund it as they had very little faith in the design. If Burstyn wanted the vehicle to be built, he would have to pay out of his own wallet and, of course, he did not have the money to do that. Burstyn then went to the German War Ministry, but they turned down the design aswell. Both war ministries were stuck in their conservatism when it comes to warfare but they also didn't like how vague the blueprints were and how there were no specifications for things such as the engine or guns. In one last attempt to get his project to gain traction, Burstyn went to the press but as expected, nothing came of it.

As a result, the Austro-Hungarian army went to war without a single armoured vehicle. They had some armoured vehicles but there were no tanks and as Burstyn considered taking up his offer to the War Ministry one last time, he felt that he would only be rejected and so he didn't.

I fucking LOVE the Burstyn-Motorgeschütz so much and I always will. It is my son. My special little boy. My baby. The simplistic and sleek design makes it look very charming and the little arms on the front and back give it a special flair which adds to its originality. Additionally, it's from Austria-Hungary, one of my favourite historical countries which just makes it even more special to me. I actually have a model Motorgeschütz, though I haven't started building it yet because I'm worried that I'm going to assemble it wrong due to it being a much older model than what I'm used to but I'm sure I'll get to it one day.

Honourable Mentions

Bob Semple tank - A tank designed in New Zealand by a man of the same name during WW2. It had no formal plans or blueprints, numerous design flaws, practical difficulties, and was never once put into production or used in combat... but none of that matters because believe me, the Bob Semple tank is the epitome of tank design. It is covered in impenetrable corrugated iron attached to its tractor base and even has a mattress inside that the gunners can lay on. Now that is a luxury. Do you know of any other tank that has a mattress that you can lie on? I didn't think so. None of these tanks have ever been lost in combat because its just that unstoppable and the Japanese were so pants-pissingly afraid of this machine that they didn't dare step a foot on New Zealand's soil lest they be utterly eviscerated by its sheer power. It doesn't even need a main cannon like so many other tanks do, instead only needing 6 light machine guns to effortlessly mow down its enemies in the blink of an eye. You may hear people say "Nooo the tiger is much cooler" or "Wahhh the panzer is the better tank" but what is a silly little cat to a GOD? Every single tank built after the creation of the Bob Semple had been naught but a weak attempt to capture even a fraction of the majesty of this magnificent metal beast. Ok but really though, the Bob Semple tank holds a special place in my heart as it's the very first tank that I ever took a liking to. It's so hilariously awful and atrociously bad, being a literal armoured tractor, but that's what makes it perfect. My favourite part about this tank is that, even while it was being ridiculed by the public, its inventor stood by his design and said something like "Well I don't see anyone else coming up with any better ideas so whatever."

Landkreuzer P.1000 Rattte - This tank is massive, weighing a hefty 1000-tons which makes it heavier than five Panzer VIII Maus. Its a staggering 36ft in height with a width of 46ft and a length of 115ft if we're only measuring up to the hull. It's insane to me how someone could unironically design such a massive tank, let alone approve of the project attached to it, and yet Adolf Hitler did. Of course, the project was cancelled by Albert Speer in early 1943 but if not then it could've been the biggest tank that Nazi Germany had ever built by far. Of course the flaws of this thing would be obvious, given that its so large that it would be vulnerable to air and artillery attacks and destroy everything in its path including roads and bridges, but I think it would be even funnier if it was built only to simply not work at all setting Nazi Germany back even further with that massive waste of resources and thus making them lose the war even harder. Hell, this thing is so absurd that some historians straight believe that the P.1000 Ratte is just a hoax or sketch made by a bored engineer for their own amusement. It's so ridiculous but thats why I love it.

Medium Mark A Whippet - It was actually @spoopi-natural who introduced me to this tank through a past ask and I immediately fell in love with the design, thinking it looked very silly. The whippet is a British tank which was designed to speed through enemy lines and exploiting any breaks in them and although it looks more modern than the Mark series of British tanks, its directly based off Little Willie - the very first completed tank prototype in all of history. The Whippet first rolled out into the battlefield in March of 1918 and proved itself to be very useful in combat due to its speed. It wasn't without its downsides though, as driving the tank had proven to be hard if not outright dangerous and machine guns would often jam. Still, a very nice tank.

If you got this far, thank you so much for reading. I had a lot of fun answering this question even if it took me a long time to get around to doing. Also, if you find a funny tank that you think I'd like PLEASE show me it, I would love to see it.

[alustfulfeeling]

[honeyhetalia]

FIRST OFF IM GONNA WRITE ABOUT THE LOVE OF MY LIFE WHW BARELY GETS RECOGNITION: 2p China

Full name: Zao Wang

*smol but tall

* 5'10

* looks about 25

* Nice long hair 

* Wears it half up half down 

* Or in a bun 

* Kinda lowkey shredded

* Abs

* very attractive

* skin is usually pale in the winter and somehow always has a tan by the time summer rolls around

* for some reason I believe Zao adopts the American culture really well

* i see him thriving in San Francisco or Los Angeles

* like he’s a west coaster

* sun, beach, babes, that’s all he needs

*he loves Chinese food but he also loves trying food from other cultures

* major foodie

* also I imagine him being a gym freak but only because he uses the gym to get with girls

* he looooovesssss attention

* lowkey a whore

* Memes

* Breathes m e m e s

* his personality is insufferable

* like he can be so annoying

* On twitter 25/8

* Hyena laughs 

* Nice ass smile tho

* "Psst everyone turn your air drop on."

* Airdrops literally the dumbest things 

* Almost never wears hoodies 

* "It's suffocating."

* loves basketball and hip hop culture for some reason

* Plays basketball really well

* you can catch him playing pick up games in Venice Beach with Allen

* Point guard

* Zao is Yao's younger brother 

* Loves pissing Yao off

* He lives to do so 

* that one guy who swears he knew the song before everyone else

* "I knew that song before it was cool." 

* Rich kid

* Yao's his older brother so of course that's his money plug

* Drives a nice ass car even though he doesn’t deserve it

* Spends his money on drugs and name brand stuff

*C R A D L E R O C K E R

* this man loves younger women (Ik it’s weird…)

* Best friends with Allen and Lutz 

* They all do illegal shit together 

* they Live with each other which is complete and utter chaos

* Attends meetings but goofs tf off 

* Doesn't take notes 

* Gets all his work done the day before or the day it's due

* loves action movies

* rlly big Marvel movie fan

* he’s seen every single one

* I believe he’s a simp but only for the right girl

* this man takes substance abuse to the next level

*that’s all I’ll say abt that

* he’s rlly nice tho

* pls be his friend

* loves video games

///andddd that’s all I got for now. Feel free to chime in and tell me what you think or who you want to see next. I love Zao sm he’s my lil babey. But yeah see ya!!!///

[imovyn]

okkkk day recap time fun one bc i am so excited to be alive yayyyy am at my parents house today my childhood bedroom tho it may be haunted w teenage angst has a v comfortable bed but for reasons unrelated to bed my back has hurt since last night but that’s fineee tried to get it out w stretching whatever got dressed and grabbed my camera to go take pictures in the backyard for photography class immediately after the sun created the mountains which is like 9am here they’re way close to the mountains and had breakfast same time as my parents my dad still goes to church but my mom was like let’s go hikingggg except i didn’t have any hiking shoes w me so whagever let’s grab the dogs who were very excited to be going on a trip and do a walk up the canyon because the leaves are changing probably they weren’t actually we were a little early but it was still very pretty and i took lots of photos and talked to an old dude who was also taking photos and on the way back we drove through a bakery and my mom got me a coffee and a pistachio croissant it was so good omg and my dad will almost always make pancakes or waffles on sundays for lunch so i had some blueberry pancakessss and spent the afternoon chilling and unsuccessfully trying to airdrop my younger sibling memes but they were doing homework like the straight A student they are (as someone who was like a B- average in high school i am so incredibly proud of them holy shit) my mom had gotten me some new tshirts bc she loves buying clothes but i’m literally not complaint they are very open back tho which i’m not super keen on but why not they’re decently cute and later my moms side of the family was coming over for dinner so i helped my mom wash dishes and set up and make food we had tacosss and my mom made entirely too much food but she’s an amazing chef it was all delicious and they all arrived at once and i talked w my cousins and dinner was good and that side of the family is always v interesting some of my family members have some uhhh unusual thoughts and opinions didn’t know my uncle was a straight up conspiracy theorist that’s really not great but my dad is like insanely patient and diplomatic thank god and when my uncle left his son was like it’s amazing how patient you are which like holy shit how far gone do you have to be for your own son to realize you’re full of shit after everyone left my parents and i continued talking about belief systems and religion and i know i resented my parents a lot when i still lived w them but they’re actually both really smart and cool and i should talk w them more as the evening went on i talked w them individually about some of the thoughts i’ve been having about religion and spirituality recently it’s a weird relationship they have still being in the church but not agreeing w everything they do and i realized some things while talking to them wwwwwww i need to meditate some more on some stuff but yay

[remnants]

batfam and phones:

dick- iphone user and annoying about it. literally the worst omg. speaker phone all the time good luck calling him to have a private conversation because it's gonna be all over town by the end of the day, possibly even the next city over depending on where he is. and he always wants to face time! you text him to ask a simple yes/no question and all you get back is 'ft me' like come onnnnnn bro 😩.

jason- based android user 🤪💖. does NOT vibe with how far phones have come since he died. no he does not wanna talk to the robot phone lady NO he is not giving the phone his fingerprint or letting it scan his face you are crazy you are weird what is wrong with you. he sucks so bad at facetime too he just doesn't get it. he also thinks airpods are stupid <3

tim- the kind of iphone user that should really get an android. refuses to put a case on his phone because he's a menace to society and his own wallet. it's actually so tragic because if anyone could get the most out of those fancy iphone camera features it would be tim but nooooooooo he dropped his phone from the top of the dinosaur in the batcave last week and now the only thing he can do on it is tell siri to call people 😒.

steph- iphone user but hot? idk. shes on her third pair of airpods this month but she would rather die than buy a wire headphone adapter. her phone is always goingoff because she's in every groupchat ever and she sets so many alarms but forgets why she set them in the first place. uses air drop for nefarious purposes (a rare win for jason nation on the phone front 🥳).

ex: (most embarrassing highlight reel of all time. if you didn't think she saw you you're wrong because she did 💖)

duke- iphone user because bruce bought him his phone. he didn't wanna be rude! if he wasn't so worried about hurting bruce's feelings he'd switch to android so fast. will leave you on read intentionally as well as unintentionally it's his fatal flaw 💔. he's just not a big texter! he thinks about how to respond and then forgets to actually type it out and send it. you'd have better luck in a group chat rather than messaging him directly. his ringtone is probably some naruto op lol.

cass- also subjected to iphone because bruce bought her phone but she doesn't really care because she prefers being face to face anyway. do not call her she hates talking on the phone and she will not answer. she'll watch the phone ring and then text you after to get her point across. uses airdrop for good (jason nation loses once again 😔).

ex:

bruce- iphone user but doesn't care about the whole debate. most of his kids have iphones so he has one to make getting in touch with them easier (sorry jason lol 🤭). sets his phone up on a stand so whenever you ft him he looks like he's in a zoom meeting. responses to texts are either entire essays or a simple 'k'. there is no in between.

damian- another bruce appointed iphone user who could not care less. also absolutely terrible at facetime. him and jason get it from talia 💖. tbh the only things he uses his phone for are, setting alarms, googling things for homework assignments and drawing references, and the cheese viking mobile game.

[matthewsgreybubbles]

Thank you for including the video in your last response. I don’t have tiktok so it wouldn’t play for me on the link, but having seen it now I’m like WTF is creepy about it?? She said she wanted to show it to him, she’s clearly not a child (I would put her around 23-28), and like, I know it can be difficult to say no to something on the spot, especially if it’s to someone you like and admire, but she’s the one who included the detail that he asked her to airdrop it to his cameraman. If she was deeply uncomfortable with them having that photo, she’s old enough to say she’d rather not. The only thing that would be scandalous would be if she’d done that and he/his brother had insisted, and I think that would’ve already made the news given how many other people were there.

Oh you're welcome! Just thought it was interesting for everyone to see without having to look for it. But everything looked fine and he didn't insist or make any weird or gross comment. LEAVE MY BOY ALONE. 🤺🤺🤺

[heartintact]

📸 for eli and esther !!!

photo 1: there was no hidden agenda behind this one; she looked so fucking gorgeous, he had to capture it. so he made sure the lightning was right, softly angled her face so her earring would stand out more, definitely held his breath as he took her in. he send it to her, and sure, he would’ve deleted it; because she’s your sous-chef, and you don’t want to make things weird between you too. instead, he printed it, kept it on the ever evolving inspiration collage at his house’s kitchen because watching her like that made his mind run in a million different directions, inspired her to create something just as pretty. (he failed, couldn’t even come close. but at least he tried.)

photo 2: this is the first christmas-season they spend together and it becomes one of the best days of elijah’s life. he thinks it’s a bit stupid ‘cause it’s not even christmas christmas but the sunday everyone gets together to decorate the restaurant so it looks more festive—and that enough should do it, ‘cause any sunday he gets to be with her, is a good sunday. but there’s something almost magical about it; everyone’s drinking and laughing and there are no stopwatches to be aware of or orders to yell and he gets to sit close to her, knees knocking together, listening about holiday anecdotes, and if he would’ve paid more attention, he would’ve noticed how deeply in love he already was.

photo 3: it’s esther’s birthday dinner (or, well, they’re on their way to it), they’re already engaged and she’s looking oh-so-not-surprised because it’s possibly the photo number 100 he’s taken of her that entire night. he can’t help it if he’s in love, and he won’t take the blame for being late. it’s all on her and the perfect dress that hugs every curve just right and the glossy lipstick he keeps trying to taste. by the time they’re on the uber, he’s promising to behave, saying he won’t even get his hands on her during the dinner.

photo 4: esther and liv the day she invites her over to meet their new restaurant —if you can call it that, because there are tools and equipment and paint tins everywhere; but the place is theirs and they know it will be a hit—. naturally, liv cries. eli offers himself to make something to eat and rolls his eyes and scoffs a little too loud when he gets called out for coming up with something completely elaborate and ridiculous. He does it on purpose, thinks the occasion is completely worth it.

photo 5: one of their first dates if you decide —like most people did, apparently, when he asked them years later— that fucking someone at your office and spending time together during work hours couldn’t count as a proper date. eli got tickets for a game from a customer who went at least once every week to eat at their restaurant and it only took him four hours of complete stress before gathering the courage to ask her to go with him. (he thought it was funny to say i figured we could go together, wouldn’t know what to talk about with the people who actually own the official jerseys; almost died when she showed up that day).

photo 6: taken the same night of the third pic, just less than an hour after, before they even enter the restaurant. pat airdrops it to him and he can’t tell why eli’s ears are immediately red. yeah, he couldn’t keep his hands away for long, there was no denying the evidence.