#Stay In Costa Rica

[itineraryblog]

Discover the Best Area to Stay in Costa Rica: A Traveler’s Paradise Awaits

Costa Rica, the gem of Central America, is a country that never fails to enchant its visitors with its rich biodiversity, stunning landscapes, and the warm hospitality of its people. Whether you are an adventurer at heart, a beach lover, or someone seeking tranquility amidst nature, Costa Rica has something unique to offer. But with so many incredible places to explore, finding the perfect spot to stay can be overwhelming. Let’s dive into some of the best areas to stay in Costa Rica and uncover why this destination should be at the top of your travel list.

Why visit Costa Rica?

Diverse Ecosystems: Costa Rica is home to a remarkable array of ecosystems, from tropical rainforests and cloud forests to arid plains and coastal regions. This diversity means you can experience a wide range of flora and fauna, often within a short distance of each other.

Adventure and Thrills: For those who crave adventure, Costa Rica is a playground. Zip-lining through the jungle canopy, white-water rafting down raging rivers, hiking up active volcanoes, and surfing on world-renowned beaches are just a few of the adrenaline-pumping activities you can enjoy.

Wildlife Galore: Costa Rica’s commitment to conservation has made it a haven for wildlife. Here, you can encounter monkeys swinging through the trees, sloths lounging in the canopy, colorful toucans, and even elusive jaguars. The sheer abundance of wildlife is one of the country’s biggest draws.

Cultural Richness: The Pura Vida lifestyle, which translates to “pure life,” embodies the Costa Rican approach to living. It’s about enjoying life’s simple pleasures, being in the moment, and embracing a stress-free attitude. The friendly and welcoming nature of the Ticos (Costa Ricans) adds a special charm to your travel experience.

Best Areas to Stay in Costa Rica

1. Arenal: For an adventure-filled stay, Arenal is your go-to destination. The imposing Arenal Volcano, lush rainforests, and rejuvenating hot springs make this area a must-visit. La Fortuna, the nearby town, serves as a convenient base for exploring the region’s natural wonders.

2. Monteverde: Known for its stunning cloud forests, Monteverde is a haven for nature enthusiasts. The Monteverde Cloud Forest Reserve offers incredible hiking trails and the chance to see unique wildlife species. This area is perfect for those who appreciate cooler climates and serene landscapes.

3. Manuel Antonio: Combining beautiful beaches with rich rainforest, Manuel Antonio is a top choice for many travelers. The Manuel Antonio National Park is famous for its diverse wildlife and scenic beauty. Whether you’re lounging on the beach or hiking through the forest, this area has it all. Continue Reading

Are you ready to learn more about the best areas to stay in Costa Rica? Click Continue Reading to discover detailed insights and plan your dream vacation today!

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FAQs: Best Areas to Stay in Costa Rica

1. What are the best areas to stay in Costa Rica for first-time visitors?

For first-time visitors, some of the best areas to stay in Costa Rica include Tamarindo, Arenal, Manuel Antonio, and Monteverde. These regions offer a great mix of natural beauty, adventure activities, and convenient amenities.

2. What is the best area to stay in Costa Rica for beach lovers?

If you love the beach, Tamarindo on the Pacific coast and Puerto Viejo on the Caribbean coast are among the best areas to stay in Costa Rica. Tamarindo offers lively beach activities and nightlife, while Puerto Viejo has a more relaxed vibe with stunning beaches and a unique Afro-Caribbean culture.

3. Where should I stay in Costa Rica for the best wildlife experiences?

Monteverde and Manuel Antonio are some of the best areas to stay in Costa Rica for wildlife enthusiasts. Monteverde’s cloud forests are home to a diverse range of flora and fauna, while Manuel Antonio National Park is famous for its rich biodiversity, including monkeys, sloths, and exotic birds.

4. Which area is best for adventure activities in Costa Rica?

Arenal is one of the best areas to stay in Costa Rica for adventure activities. The region offers zip-lining, white-water rafting, hiking, and the chance to explore the majestic Arenal Volcano and its surrounding rainforests.

5. Are there any family-friendly areas to stay in Costa Rica?

Yes, Costa Rica has many family-friendly areas. Manuel Antonio is particularly great for families due to its beautiful beaches, safe swimming areas, and abundance of wildlife. Arenal is also family-friendly, with plenty of activities suitable for children and adults alike.

6. What is the best area to stay in Costa Rica for a romantic getaway?

For a romantic getaway, consider staying in Monteverde or Manuel Antonio. Monteverde’s serene cloud forests provide a peaceful retreat, while Manuel Antonio offers beautiful beaches and luxurious resorts ideal for couples.

7. Is traveling to Costa Rica safe?

Costa Rica is generally considered safe for travelers, especially in the popular tourist areas such as Tamarindo, Arenal, Monteverde, Manuel Antonio, and Puerto Viejo. However, as with any travel destination, it’s important to take standard precautions, such as keeping an eye on your belongings and avoiding isolated areas at night.

8. What is the best time of year to visit Costa Rica?

The best time to visit Costa Rica is during the dry season, which runs from December to April. This period offers sunny weather and is ideal for exploring the best areas to stay in Costa Rica. However, the green season (May to November) can also be a good time to visit, with fewer tourists and lush, vibrant landscapes.

9. Can I experience both adventure and relaxation in the best area to stay in Costa Rica?

Absolutely! Costa Rica offers a perfect blend of adventure and relaxation. For example, in Arenal, you can enjoy thrilling activities like zip-lining and then relax in the natural hot springs. Manuel Antonio combines beautiful beaches for relaxation with adventurous hikes in the national park.

10. How do I choose the best area to stay in Costa Rica for my interests?

Choosing the best area to stay in Costa Rica depends on your interests. If you love the beach and surfing, Tamarindo is a great choice. For nature and wildlife, consider Monteverde or Manuel Antonio. If you’re looking for adventure, Arenal is ideal. For a unique cultural experience, Puerto Viejo is the place to be.

For more detailed insights on the best area to stay in Costa Rica, continue reading here.

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[usersukuna]

Ok but this article is SO good 😭😭

[crowsneststuff]

He is SITTIN’ in the LEAF.

[sustainabilitytravel]

Sustainable Accommodations: Best Eco-Lodges and Hotels Worldwide

The way we travel has a profound impact on the planet. One of the best ways to reduce your environmental footprint is by choosing accommodations that prioritize sustainability. Thankfully, eco-lodges and green hotels around the world are leading the charge in eco-conscious hospitality. From lush rainforests to urban oases, here’s a guide to some of the best sustainable stays that promise comfort, luxury, and care for the environment.

1. Soneva Fushi – Maldives

Nestled in the Maldives, Soneva Fushi is a luxurious eco-resort that blends seamlessly with its natural surroundings. The resort is powered by solar energy and features a world-class waste management system. Guests can indulge in stunning overwater villas, dine at zero-waste restaurants, and snorkel in crystal-clear waters, knowing their stay supports sustainability.

2. Fogo Island Inn – Canada

Located on a remote island off Newfoundland, Fogo Island Inn is an architectural gem committed to sustainability. This eco-conscious retreat uses locally sourced materials, supports the island’s economy, and reinvests its profits into the community. With breathtaking ocean views, a cozy Nordic aesthetic, and locally inspired cuisine, it’s a haven for eco-conscious travelers.

3. Treehotel – Sweden

If you’ve ever dreamed of sleeping in a treehouse, Treehotel in Sweden is the place for you. Each uniquely designed cabin is suspended among the trees, offering stunning views of the Swedish forest. The hotel operates with a minimal environmental footprint, using renewable energy and sustainable building materials.

4. Grootbos Private Nature Reserve – South Africa

For those seeking a safari experience with a sustainable twist, Grootbos Private Nature Reserve in South Africa is a must-visit. This eco-lodge supports local conservation efforts and community programs while offering luxurious accommodations. Explore fynbos-covered landscapes, go on guided nature walks, or enjoy fine dining with farm-to-table ingredients.

5. Hoshinoya Karuizawa – Japan

Located in a tranquil forest in Japan, Hoshinoya Karuizawa is a resort that exemplifies harmony with nature. Powered by geothermal energy, the resort offers serene hot springs, minimalist Japanese architecture, and locally sourced cuisine. It’s the perfect blend of luxury and sustainability.

6. Whitepod Eco-Luxury Hotel – Switzerland

Nestled in the Swiss Alps, Whitepod Eco-Luxury Hotel offers a unique glamping experience in geodesic domes. The pods are energy-efficient and designed to minimize their impact on the environment. Guests can enjoy stunning alpine views, hike through pristine trails, and embrace the beauty of the mountains.

7. El Nido Resorts – Philippines

El Nido Resorts in Palawan is a stunning example of sustainable tourism. Surrounded by turquoise waters and lush jungles, the resort operates with solar energy, marine conservation programs, and eco-friendly designs. Guests can enjoy snorkeling, kayaking, and exploring hidden lagoons, all while preserving the natural beauty of the Philippines.

8. Lapa Rios Lodge – Costa Rica

Lapa Rios Lodge is a true eco-tourism pioneer, set in the heart of Costa Rica’s Osa Peninsula. This lodge protects over 1,000 acres of rainforest, supports local communities, and uses sustainable practices in its operations. Guests can immerse themselves in the wild beauty of Costa Rica while enjoying eco-luxury at its finest.

9. Camp Glenorchy – New Zealand

Located near Queenstown, Camp Glenorchy is New Zealand’s first net-zero energy retreat. It incorporates sustainable building practices, solar power, and rainwater collection systems. Guests can enjoy cozy accommodations, stunning mountain views, and a deep sense of connection with nature.

10. Six Senses Ninh Van Bay – Vietnam

Six Senses resorts are known for their commitment to sustainability, and Ninh Van Bay is no exception. Perched on a remote bay in Vietnam, this resort combines luxury with eco-consciousness. From farm-to-table dining to marine conservation programs, it offers an indulgent yet environmentally friendly escape.

Why Choose Sustainable Accommodations?

Staying in eco-friendly accommodations doesn’t just enhance your travel experience—it helps protect the planet. These lodges and hotels prioritize energy efficiency, reduce waste, support local communities, and often reinvest in conservation programs. By choosing these options, you contribute to sustainable tourism and ensure that future generations can enjoy these incredible destinations.

[kirstielol]

Ahoy! Random long-time follower here. I’ve always wanted to go to Costa Rica and was wondering if you had any recommendations on companies, travel package deals, etc. Anything helps, thanks!

hello follower! 😊

there's so many different ways to vacation in costa rica, so i'm not sure how applicable this info will be to the type of trip you want to do.. but what we do is plan and book our own custom trip.. rather than doing a travel package or going to any all-inclusive places.

like this time around we did 3 days at a lodge in monteverde, 3 days at a lodge right beside arenal volcano, then 5 days at a resort near a city called la fortuna. everything was booked separately.

we used a company called "destination costa rica" to drive us from the airport to the first resort, then again from the final resort back to the airport. i highly recommend them, we've used them all 3 times we've gone to costa rica and they've been great!

to get from monteverde to arenal we used a company called "jeep-boat-jeep". they specialize in taking people across lake arenal, so that's only going to be helpful if you're planning on travelling between those two areas.

otherwise, each lodge/resort we stayed in was able to drive us to other resorts, cities, wherever we wanted to go. the taxi's in costa rica are also great! we used them quite a few times to go into town.

as for activities you might want to do, like ziplining, tours, hiking, whatever.. every place i've ever stayed at in costa rica has given us a huge list of activities that you can book, and they'll arrange transportation for you. all you need to do is show up in the lobby at a certain time. we also would just pull up google maps and look at what there was to do nearby lol

hopefully this was the type of answer you were looking for! costa rica's a very modern and safe country, so i find it really simple to plan trips and get around on your own without doing a travel package. and i find most people that work in hospitality, and all the drivers, spoke enough english to communicate just fine.

i hope you have a wonderful time, it's such a beautiful country 😊❤️

[puckeffideb]

[communist-hatsunemiku]

bro i am just barely skating by when it comes to bills and rent. and my mom is like "you need to save money for the trip to costa rica in december!"🙃

[butterbabyflapjack]

✧˖° Brian Moser x serial killer fem!reader

✧˖° summary:

The Ice Truck Killer’s back in town, and somehow he's stuck babysitting you; Miami's newest would-be killer.

Helping you out wasn't at all his original intention–he'd rather see you dead, you know far too much–but he supposes he could spare an evening to undomesticate that hungry beast inside you. Show you how to really live your life.

In which Brian helps you kill someone who utterly deserves it, and the kill room turns into a horny sex-fueled bloodbath.

✧˖° wordcount (chapter 1): 5k

✧˖° chapters: one, two, three

✧˖° ao3

✧˖° warnings: serial killer fem!reader, reader insert, explicit sexual content, rough sex, passionate sex, fucking in a kill room, dark romance, dark comedy, canon typical depictions of blood and gore, enthusiastic consent, mutual pining, impact play, playing with your food, serial killers in love, banter, dirty talk, voice kink, trauma bonding, babysitting a serial killer, implied sexual abuse of a child (you're killing this mf don’t worry), torture (you’re torturing this mf don’t worry), Brian is his own warning, enemies to lovers, biting, daddy issues?, blood play, a bit of angst a dash of bloodlust & a heavy splash of spice, Brian loves to fluster you and he won't shut the hell up going about it, Brian survives season 1 in this house

✧˖° author's note:

This is ridiculous, horny, bloody, silly and dark (in essence, a very dark romantic comedy), so please heed the tags!

Starts after season 1, but with Brian escaping. Sorry if there’s any rough spots, I kinda rushed editing this.

ch.1 is from Brian’s POV, and the rest of the story is from yours. And there aren't nearly enough problematic female characters in the world so I'm making you one 😃

✧˖° chapter 1

Hello again, Miami. 

Didn’t think I’d see you again this soon.

What’s it been? Eight months? Since I was your most highly sought after criminal?

Guess I just couldn’t stay away.

Time flies when you’re laying low.

Guess I just missed you.

But really, my reason for coming back to dear old Miami–my home, both my real and spiritual birthplace–has a name, a life, and a face. Your name, if you’re really so curious. Your life. Your face. And I intend to leave what remains of all three of those things behind to the hungry bellies of gators before once more absconding stage left. 

But why, you might ask? Why do I want to kill you? Horrified, scandalized, even. For what reason had you to die by my skillful hand? And the answer to that is simple: death doesn’t need a reason. Death simply is, and I simply enjoy it. 

Though…

Regardless of that irrefutable fact…

I’ll admit. 

This particular death–your death–has a slightly more personal reason. And that reason, or at least its causation, was currently chit-chatting with me on the phone.

“Your plane lands at eight?” Dexter asked, and I didn’t waste time with a nod when he wouldn’t see it. Simply staring out across the coast of Costa Rica, the sunset reflected within the dark shadow of my gaze.

Costa Rica… and I’d really wanted to retire somewhere cold.

Not that this was retirement.

It was more of an… unplanned, involuntary vacation. Just until the heat from the feds cooled down.

Then again, I wasn’t waiting for the temp to drop before planning this little excursion back to Miami. But you’d sorta forced my hand in that regard, now hadn’t you?

“Hope you don’t mind if I crash on the couch,” I said, good-natured, and I knew he wouldn’t object. My brother couldn’t feel much–much more than myself–but I sensed a sort of guilt in him for how he’d previously driven me off those eight months ago. Choosing a fake sibling over a real one, one who actually knew who he was… I’d say the guilt had good cause.

I could hear him at his quaint living room/office combo’s computer, typing away at something. Perpetually Distracted Dexter.

“Yeah–yeah, that’d be great,” he said. 

I exhaled a little sigh whilst listening to the soft waves roll in beside me. “Why do I feel there’s a but coming?”

“No buts,” said Dexter. “I just, uh…” He seemed distracted, but not by whatever he typed. “I’ll just have a friend over tomorrow. She’ll probably be here when you arrive.”

Ah.

The friend.

The one I’d been silently wishing Dex would just kill himself. Grow suddenly bored of you.

Wishful thinking.

He seemed quite fond. 

He wouldn’t shut up about you. Always and forever droning on.

It wasn’t romantic, this interest, or so I’d come to suspect over all these past droning months. I didn’t exactly ask about that, though, half because I really didn’t care and half because of how much the subject of you annoyed me, raised over and over again and ugh, just give it a rest already. 

Dex shouldn’t have ‘friends’. The mere concept a fairytale, a mask to people like us. It should be just he and I, two hunters against the world, hunting whomever we like.

“Ah,” I voiced aloud, with the sugar-flaked pleasantry of someone who wasn’t at all picturing severing your aorta with an icepick. “Your little friend will be there to greet me. How nice.”

Dexter must have misread the edge of sarcasm as some sort of concern. “She already knows you’re coming. Don’t worry, she can be trusted.”

Just more proof that my do-good, misguided brother is far too trusting.

“Well,” I said, as though accepting this point as fact. You really can be trusted with my and my brother's secrets–such relief! “I look forward to finally meeting her.” And carving and slicing and dicing her.

I must have forgotten to include that last part out loud, and thus Dexter had no objection–even sounding strangely relieved by my show of good faith in at long last having this introduction.

“See you tomorrow night,” he said, and my lips formed a little smile–instinctual, without any warmth.

“See you then,” I said, then hung up.

And now; here I am. Back in the ever-enchanting sunshine state. My former playground of frozen, meticulously broken toys, and it feels much more like home to be back than I even expected, with just the small matter of ridding you from these sentimental, familial walls.

Walking the concrete pathway to Dex’s Palm Terrace place was nearly surreal, assaulting the walls of my person with waves of distant memories. I’d broken into his beachfront apartment so many times before. Snooping around, getting to know him. Leaving gifts tied up with little red bows. I was basically murderous Saint Claus.

I had only one bag, having traveled here light–a black leather crossbody, which I thumbed the broad strap of whilst knocking with mild knuckles against the door.

Silence. Then, footsteps. Then–

Dexter throws open the door, a smile formed ear to ear like a big, goofy animal. 

“Brian,” he says, and somehow it melts me. Chips slightly away at all that frigid, cold frost round my cruel, vacant heart. And his eyes dip over the state of me. The longer hair, dark curls well past my ears, now; just long enough to tuck back but not long enough to stay there. The dark scruff which coats my angled jawline in the absence of shaving for so long.

“Dig the beard,” Dexter says. “Quite the disguise. Bet the ladies love it.”

I smile at the compliment, though if he'd hated the look I'd feel much the same. “One does what one has to to effectively blend,” I return. And it’s hard not to feel somewhat warm, somewhat seen, understood, by my brother before me. The only person in this world who accepts who I am.

Well, not wholly.

Thanks for nothing, Debra.

Still. Since the death of our mother, Dex is the only place I’ve ever belonged, and seeing him now I’m abruptly struck with just how long it’s been.

I don’t wait for him to welcome me in–he’s probably too cordially stunted to properly welcome me, anyway. I just step right up and throw both my arms around him, my baby brother, my other half; cuffing him firmly on the back as I breathe him in.

“It’s been too long,” I say, holding him there for a moment, before pulling back.

Dexter’s expression is torn into a million indecipherable things, but amongst them is his affection for me. The brother who’ll always see him for who he really is. Who truly fathoms that insatiable beast inside him.

The bliss of our reunion’s forced to end, however, because this house has a rat problem. And as I hear a small, feminine throat being cleared from the fluorescent-lit depths behind my brother, my curiosity gets the better of me.

Time to finally put a face to the name I’ve been loathing for weeks.

And there you are. Standing before a metal-limbed armchair nuzzled inside the living room, like you’d sat there then stiffly stood up; uprooted at the sound of my knocking. Frozen, now; lingering. Like you’re caught in a trap you don’t know your way out of. Hands fidgeting as they twist at the hem of your shirt. 

It’s like you know you don’t belong here–that this moment is Dexter’s and mine–and for the cleverness of that, at least, I must inwardly applaud you. Though that’s decidedly where all my praise ends.

This is one of those social situations I’ve learned so well to navigate through life in the foster system, masking my aberrance. Awkwardness. Other people’s–not mine. And though I could so effortlessly put you at ease as you stand there fidgeting, I find it more entertaining to draw that part out. For a while, at least.

I must admit, I hadn’t pictured you at all in my head. What you’d look like. Not as anything more than an aggravating, compromising blip I’d soon snuff out the threat of. But if I had pictured you, I wouldn’t have imagined you looking, so…

…Well.

You’re not…

Unnatractive. 

I feel one dark brow slowly raising.

And you’re only a friend…?

Whatever must poor Rita think? Seeing the two of you together?

Dexter. You dog.

My eyes trace your expression as you awkwardly hover there in the length of my speculative pause. Myself perfectly content to allow you to hang there in a noose of discomfort all night, and then some. Though eventually I know one of us will have to say something.

This is our fated and much anticipated formal introduction, after all.

So at what feels like long last, I throw you the lifeline that is my smarmiest smile. Knowing full well you won’t know it’s not real. No one but Dex ever does.

“And you must be the friend I’ve heard so much about,” I greet you pleasantly, my deep voice threaded with warmth. Though, peculiarly, that unsure tension in you remains stubbornly in place. Seems if anything only to grow, despite my intent to disarm it. 

Huh.

Oh well–it doesn’t deter me. Killing you will be so much easier if you don’t see it coming, so I’m keen on you liking me, letting your guard down. Thus, I graciously continue:

“You have no idea how much I’ve been looking forward to finally having you right in front of me.”

Maybe a bit of truth will lube you up. And I watch as your lower lip’s sucked in between your teeth for just a moment whilst you eye me; the motion drawing my studious gaze like a shark’s to blood. 

“And why is that?” you ask, which admittedly I wasn’t expecting. Such a nervous mouse, yet you’d put me on the spot.

I can’t place your nerves. I’m perfectly charming. And yes, you’re aware I’m the notorious Ice Truck Killer, but I’m not sure why that would be alarming. Not with the company you keep; namely, my murderous brother. So it must be something else.

And I so hate not knowing things.

“So I can be introduced to you in person, of course,” I say, like it’s obvious, and it should be. Striding in past Dexter as he steps aside to allow me in, shutting and latching the door behind us all; a roomful of killers, or so I’ve been told.

Our eyes never stray in my steady approach; not yours, not mine. My height soon towering over yours, which isn’t unusual for me when meeting new people, nor when standing near almost anyone. Offering my hand and a smile I’ve been told is quite dashing. “Dex has had such wonderful things to say about you.” And I’m sure he has, I just couldn’t be bothered to remember any of them.

My smile could melt steel as if it was butter.

“I’m Brian.”

I won’t lie, I expected you to crumble. Most women love this move. The confidence, the approachable self-assurance. But you eye my outstretched hand as though I might pull you into the fires of hell with me were you to take it, before craning your neck to meet my gaze once more.

“Charmed,” is all you say; unmoving.

Something about that irks a small ripple up my nape, but I just allow my hand to drop graciously back to my side. All practiced, svelte charm still in place. It’d take a lot more than that to dischevel me.

“So,” I say, by all appearance unconcerned by the lack of civility in my brother’s ill choice of friends. “It almost feels like I already know you, what with the way Dexter’s gone on and on.”

Your gaze steals over to Dexter, hovering there in the distance behind us, before you smile up at me again in a way which feels forced. And I suppose you’re not the talkative sort, though why you keep glancing at Dexter as if waiting for something from him, as if he’ll swoop in and save you, I’m uncertain about.

In due time I’ll figure it out.

“But there’s still one thing I’m curious about,” I say, turning to make myself comfortable. It has been a long trip to get here, after all. 

I plop down like a wolf amongst sheep atop Dexter’s hideous couch, legs spread like I own the damn food chain. One arm draped out along the length of its backrest as I eye you somewhat expectantly, still rigid in how you stand. Imagining what you might look like strung upside down by your ankles with a lengthy strap of duct tape kissing those soft lips, holding them shut for me. 

The shadows beneath my eyes pinch.

It’s a lovely image.

Maybe you’ll see for yourself.

“And what’s that?” Dexter asks–bravo, Dexter–at least one of you’s courteous enough to ask. And I tilt my darkly curled head at him.

“How exactly did the two of you get to know one another?” I ask. Watching him. Eying you. Hoping my focus might rattle you–just a little. “I’m sure it’s an interesting tale.”

“I’ve already told you,” Dexter says, and he probably has, at least in his unabbreviated sense. “We work together at the precinct.” He dons his playful tone I often find so silly but right now I find I detest. “The lab geek and the cop~”

“Right. But that’s not what I mean,” I slice into his futile comedy routine, “What I mean, is: how did our friend here come to know you’re one of Miami’s most heinous, uncaught serial killers?”  

The other, of course, being myself; excepting the whole uncaught thing.

Dex is lucky I’m so forgiving.

I put it forth bluntly, with little room for either one of you to wiggle out of answering. And though my radiance of charisma remains, my intensity’s keen. ‘Cause I must admit; now that I’m here, I’m curious about you. Especially when you seem like such a rabbit in a household of jackals. Weren’t you supposed to be some like-minded killer or something? Perhaps I should have paid closer attention whenever the unwanted topic of you had come up in mine and Dexter’s conversations, instead of bitterly tuning you out. 

Strangely, Dexter doesn’t seem to know what to say, and neither do you. Like the story’s too long, too elaborate. As though there's pieces the two of you’d rather omit. 

Fascinating.

“She helped me out,” Dex says at last; monotonously shallow, like the words aren’t even his, like he's rehearsed this. “In a time of need.”

I quirk a subtly mocking brow at him from where I’m idly lounged on the couch. 

“Why do you sound like a generic thankyou card?” Why, indeed. “C’mon, baby brother–I want specifics. You can tell me.” My dusky gaze passes from him to his lovely, curious friend, hovered opposite the ugly coffee table before me. “We’re all friends here, right?”

It would seem that my smile unnerves you. Which might be annoying if it wasn’t so entertaining a thing to see.

Dexter sighs before trying a more human answer, leaning one bulky shoulder against his white, open-backed bookcase that separates his living room from the office attached. 

This whole effectively communicating thing is hard for him.

“It was sort of an accident,” he says, like that’s far more telling. The lacking details seeming to spur you to chime in. 

“It was really just me being in the wrong place at the right time,” you elaborate, with the passive front of one pretending the ice they walk on won’t at any moment begin to splinter. Folding your arms against that pensive look I toss you, which I tilt my head in silent question of. Why so nervous? I’m far from daunting, aren’t I? 

“I was called to check out an anonymous tip,” you continue, averting your gaze from me far more often than one normally does. “Some sort of suspicious activity at an abandoned storage shed near Palmetto. Myself and my parter.” 

You glance at Dex, as if he might continue the tale for you, might rescue you from this, but when he merely quirks a little smile with a similar shrug, you’re forced into proceeding.

“It was supposedly related to a case–which it wasn’t, not that that matters, but…” You let out a breath. Seeming to steady yourself, the recollection, though for all your nervous fidgeting your tone is surprisingly calm. “I walked into the storage shed, it was unlocked, and… And I saw Dexter. Sawing someone’s arm off. Someone who was strapped down to a table in a plastic fucking tutu.” 

You glance at Dex, as he detachedly watches you. 

“Someone I knew from a previous case,” you continue. “Someone who deserved whatever it was Dexter was doing, and much more than that, too. Which is exactly when I shut that fucking door and assured my partner there was nothing to see here, and we left. Left Dexter to do what he does, undisturbed.”

That’s the end of your story, and I picture the scene, all while some predatorily protective part of me insists on clarifying, “So… That’s it? You saw my brother chopping a man into pieces, and were immediately okay with it? Go Team Dexter? Just like that?”

I try very little to hide my disbelief, ‘cause I don’t buy it. In my experience with cops, and I’ve had plenty, you all tend to be such sticklers when it comes to casual bloodshed and carnage. What’s more, your uptick in nerves isn’t exactly selling me.

My lashes lower in my deliberate examination of you. “Why’d you really not turn my dear brother in?”

In lieu of answering, you once more eye Dex, and that look between you says something.

“It’s complicated,” you say at last. Like you’re waiting for Dexter to speak, but he’d rather wait on you.

The pair of you. Really. You’re like a couple of tongue-tied, helpless kittens. Must I string this conversation on for you?

“Enlighten me,” I say, with something of an edge.

Perhaps I should’ve kept the disarmingly fake smile, because if anything you thrust your guard up.

“Look, I don’t owe you a full explanation of what Dexter and I have been through, okay?”

“Oh, I beg to differ,” I viperously put forth, my pretense of pleasantry slipping. “Seeing as how you know so much about myself. And all without my express knowledge or permission.”

An impermanent issue. One I won't leave Miami without personally seeing resolved. You know far too much–you’re an issue. For Dexter’s sake and for mine, we must unfortunately bid you bon voyage.

“I’d say it’s only fair I know a little more about you,” I continue, cordiality slipped back in place. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

The delicate line of your jaw tautens, eyes wavered with wariness and doubt. Refusing to spit out any more, though the longer you’re subject to my critical appraisal, the more the twine of your stubbornness unwinds.

“I… I need someone dead,” you admit at last.

Ah.

There it is.

“And, after seeing Dexter doing… what he does…” You bite your lower lip, as though struggling to recollect straying thoughts. “I need his help. I need his help to kill someone.”

I take my time mulling about your words. Piecing together the part you still aren't saying.

“So… You won’t turn Dexter in, so long as he helps you kill someone. Did I get that right?” 

You bite down harsher–immediately shake your head. “No, it’s–it’s more complicated than that!” 

But by now I’m barely listening. Turning instead to lift a wry brow at my brother, who’s watching this whole fiasco with a can-I-please-leave-yet look plastered upon his face.

“This is the friend you’ve been telling me about?” I wonder vaguely. “The cop who’s blackmailing you into helping her kill someone?”

“I’m a detective,” you cut in, like that matters, like I care, and I feel my eyes already rolling.

“Detective,” I sarcastically amend, with a scathing glance at you. “So sorry to offend, Detective Whoever-You-Are. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m talking to my brother.”

When you mutter back your name under your breath, I make a show of ignoring it.

“So, what?” I instead ask my foolish, good-hearted kin. “You’re actually going to help her kill someone?” 

His lack of answer’s enough. And at his arms-folded silence, I ruminatively tut my tongue.

“Doesn’t seem like you, Dex… Not the edict-ruled brother I know.” I try not to let my tone grow too ingratiating whilst goading, “What about your beloved code?” 

Dexter exhales a stiff breath. Putting forth, “It’s more than that.”

“More?”

“Like she said, it’s complicated.”

“Has the word ‘complicated’ been redefined as ‘indescribably moronic and impossible to explain’ sometime in the last fifteen seconds?” I return, incredulously flat. Eying their strange and stilted silence with dwindling patience. “What aren’t the two of you telling me…?”

You’re biting your lip like you’re biting back words, and I watch, waiting, biding my time for those bit-back words to get the better of you–though surprisingly, it’s Dexter who breaks first. 

“It’s nothing about that, it’s…” He rubs the back of his sand-colored head, roughing his hair up with tense distraction. “Well, it is about that, in a sense. I didn’t know how to bring this up. I just… I have to leave town for the weekend,” he finally gets out. “First thing tomorrow morning, I’m headed out.”

I’m too nonplussed to hide the creeping edge of my bemusement.

That’s what he’s been having trouble saying?

He drops this like it’ll land like a bombshell on our entire reunion, before rushing at whatever my bland expression, “It’s just for a few days. I’ll be back Monday bright and early.”

To be honest, I’m mostly confused about why this seemed so hard for either one of you bumbling idiots to tell me. Or why you’re bumbling about it at all. Why should I care if he’ll be gone for forty-eight more measly hours after we've been separated for almost a year? And for many, many years before that? Does he actually expect me to mourn him till Monday?

“Big plans with the family?” I venture coolly, and Dexter’s broad shoulders bunch into a shrug, as though he’s cornered and a shrug is all that might save him.

“It’s a whole thing,” he explains. “Cody has a scouting trip, then Rita wanted to make a whole weekend out of it with the grandparents–I’ll spare you the details.”

Yes, thank you for that.

Dexter the family man. It’s so sweet it’s nauseating.

“So you’re taking your fake kids camping so you can keep playing domesticated dad to a woman and children who’d hate you if they knew who you really are?” My smile’s so feigned it hurts. “Sounds like a great time.”

My brother, the shrugger, shrugs once again. Doesn’t even try to defend my interpretive accusation. “I gotta be there.”

“Well have fun on your little adventure,” I muse; side-eying him. “Not sure why it took you this long to tell me. I’m sure I’ll find some way to busy myself in the meantime.”

You and Dexter exchange that look again. That look which betrays how you still haven’t shared whatever’s so lodged down your throats and wherever this is really going, and by this point it’s driving me toward wanting to just rip open your necks to drag whatever it is out, myself.

“Well, actually,” my brother begins, struggling once more with saying things. “I’ve already got an idea that’ll keep you busy in mind.”

I steady him in the crosshairs of my vision. Well. Now we might be getting somewhere. And I can’t deny my interest, much like my frustration, is piqued. 

“Oh?”

“A favor, really,” he adds, without elaborating, and I really am going to rip the words right out of him.

“Are you going to tell me what that favor is?” I’m finally forced to ask, before glancing exasperatedly at you. “Or perhaps I should defer to your translator?”

There you go, nervously rubbing that elbow again, though I find myself oddly mesmerized by the motion of it. I can’t say for what cause, other than I’m not blind, and you’re obviously attractive. Watching you anxiously stand there is becoming one of my favorite pastimes.

“I, um,” you mumble, so quietly I almost can’t hear you. A nervous mouse again, one my nature is stirred to chase. “Well. Dexter was going to help me with–you know… What I was saying before. We have everything planned for tomorrow, and it has to happen tomorrow.” You seem strangely adamant about this, and I don’t care enough to question the ‘why’, just as I don’t care for the ‘who’–I’ll take your word for it. “But, um, with Dexter out of town…”

Helpless, as if to say any more’s an impossible task, you glance to Dexter for support.

“Really, the two of you,” I lowly muse. Eyes glistening between the pair of you, alight with my wicked amusement. Stretching out more broadly on the throne of Dexter’s hideous couch. “You could almost put a full sentence together so long as you tag one another in after every breath.”

The taunt’s enough to unlodge wherever Dexter’s tongue’s at. 

“I need you to help her kill this guy while I’m gone,” he finally says bluntly. Arms folded, expression stern, yet hinted by what may as well be him begging me, which in itself, is…

Well. He’s never asked me for anything. Not like this. Though I certainly don’t owe him any favors…

“I know you know how to set up a proper kill room,” he states, and he should–he’s seen my imitation of his plastic-drenched kill room, firsthand. I’ve studied his work more than anyone. Emulated it to perfection, and all for a happily-ever-after he refused to take part of, spat cold in my face.

For a moment, I feel almost human in how I can’t seem to react or respond to this request. Though as I watch the mirrored hope in you both, as the idea of this slowly settles, I find that it doesn’t completely bore me…

My eyes drift to you. Singling you out. Stringing round your anxious expression. And you’ve mettle, at least, to not look away from the barbs of my musing intensity.

So. This is why you’ve been acting so sheepishly inept. You need big bad Brian’s help with something.

It’s laughably cute, the idea of you killing, and already I know I’m going to do it. But I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t make you sit in it a little. Take my time in toying with you, first.

“You want me to babysit your blackmailing little friend here,” I say to Dex, with raven-dark eyes still on you, “while she attempts–and correct me if I’m wrong here–her first kill?” 

I can tell you can feel how my gaze is dissecting you. Pulling apart, piecing together, assessing every piece and shape and shade of you. It makes you squirm, and I love it; sparing a moment to slide my tongue over the sharpness of my teeth as I feast on such a beautiful reaction. 

I turn back to Dex. “What makes you think she’s even capable?”

“I’m capable,” you insist, drawing my gaze again. And even through those nerves roused in my presence, you appear quite convinced of it. 

Interesting. 

“I can do this,” you again allege. With such frail confidence, but confidence nonetheless. “I just… need a little help.”

I tamp down the rearing head of my inquisitiveness. Ensure my interest remains vague in how I lackadaisically eye you. 

“Help with what, exactly?” I slowly ask. And it’s not a no, which I’m amused to see is so surprising.

You blink a few times, eyes growing wider, more determined–before you’re explaining, quickly, as though whatever luck this is may run out.

“Getting him to the kill site,” you say succinctly, with all the puffed-up bravado of a fluffy little rabbit pretending that they’ve slayed a fox before, and it really is amusing. “Moving the body. Clean-up.”

I let my watchful silence drag on. Held in supposed indecisive contemplation. Should I? Should I? Until, when I can nearly hear your fretting heartbeat, I feel one corner of my lips slowly quirk up. Watching every minor movement of you like a fox might a meal, might a rabbit, and find I really wouldn’t mind taking a bite. 

“Don’t need help doing the deed, then?” I subtly ask you.

Your eyebrows flicker to a knot. Lips pressing flat, before you shake your head at me. “No.”

“You sure?” I further goad, with silken smoothness. Loving those little cracks of hesitation along your lovely surface so much I’m inclined to hammer in even more of them. “‘Cause I won’t kill him for you. You have to do that, yourself. And what’s more, if you for any reason chicken out on me and can’t follow through with all this…” I calmly smile. “I’ll simply leave you there all alone with whatever maddened mess of whoever this man you’ve left behind.” The idea of it sparks a delicious flame somewhere deep below my cavernous lack of heart. “After ensuring he’s woken up, first, of course. Aware. Pissed off. Untied.” 

I smile my cheshire smile as that resolve in you flickers in place; the smallest glow, so nearly snuffed out already. 

“So?” I spur in your uncertain silence. “Do we have a deal, little killer?”

And still, you hesitate. Seeming to weigh my words with care, along with the cost of your own, which I certainly appreciate. You’re not as stupid as I’d originally believed, in any case.

At long last, you nod, but I don’t move, don’t even blink from how I wolfishly watch you from my throne of Dexter’s couch. Not until you say the words out loud. And you will, if you want my help. You have to.

If that’s a flash of resentment within those pretty eyes of yours, it only causes my broadening smirk.

“Fine,” you say at last, after thickly swallowing. “We have a deal.”

And surely light must dance in my entertained eyes as I bite back just how pleased I am by this answer. 

This should be fun.

✧˖° chapter 2

[crevicedwelling]

these nice big wandering spiders (Ancylometes bogotensis) were a common sight at the last few sites I stayed at in Costa Rica. initially, I thought I was seeing multiple species, but apparently there’s a number of color morphs (I think? these seem to all be adult) in both sexes. my favorite was the all-black male with hints of blue iridescence.

[hearts4johnwick]

SUMMARY. 𝜗𝜚 your husband has been missing for almost two months now, yearning for him is making you relive some of your best memories.

CW. 𝜗𝜚 mentions of od’ing, fluff & angst (whose page are you in??? ofc it’s angst 👅) bold = flashbacks

A/N. 𝜗𝜚 umm i know absolutely nothing!!!about south korea or their schools, so this is purely based off of american schools bc my latina ass is not cultured on this, if yall wanna correct me or help me in some stuff, pls do! just know i’m writing this for fun tho <3

the voice of your teacher announcing a new student catches your attention, a boy with slightly longer hair stands beside her, holding onto his backpack. “this is kang dae-ho, he is transferring from seoul, and as your new classmate, you shall treat him with respect.” your eyes analyze dae-ho, he’s cute, you think. you glance over to your friend and she raises her eyebrow in a flirty manner, you smile.

“find a seat, dear.” there were plenty of seats available, but the seat beside you was the one he was eyeing the most, and you did not mind at all if he sat next to you.

the two of you make eye contact and you watch his eyebrows raise slightly, he quickly makes his way to the seat beside you. you give him a soft smile and he returns it, a soft hint of redness grows on his face.

“of course.” your friend playfully rolls her eyes and you chuckle before the teacher begins the class.

once the class finished, you head to your lockers to put away your books, in the distance you see dae-ho and your friend speaks. “you should go and talk to him, maybe we can go to the bakery after school.” you look at her and nod.

“that’s a good idea.” you walk away from your locker, your hand holding your other over your legs as you make your way toward him. dae-ho turns and his heart begins to race as if your beauty leaves him speechless, or you coming up to him caught him off guard. “dae-ho, was it?” he nods. “nice to meet you, I’m y/n.”

he smiles widely. “cute name for a cute girl.” you smile, his confidence taking you aback for a slight moment.

“thank you.” you feel your face heat up, but you brush it off. “my friend and i were wondering if you’d like to join us at the bakery right across the street after school? we usually go there for some lunch, since the lunch here is not too good.” you make a disgusted noise and scrunch your nose, he laughs and you smile.

“I’d like that,” he says and you smile.

“great. see you there. what’s your next class?” you ask him, and he tells you that it’s math, you exclaim when you look at his schedule and realize you have every single class together.

after classes finish, the three of you do as you agreed and head to the bakery. you get to know a lot about dae-ho, and you find out you have much more in common than you ever thought. he’s energetic and kind, and you admire that.

“so, do you have any plans after graduation?” you ask him, breaking the silence your friend left you both in after her mother came to pick her up.

he hums, taking his time thinking what to say. “joining the marines is a good idea.” you raise an eyebrow. “but, apart from that—i’d love to marry a pretty girl, maybe start a family with her, maybe move back to the city, or move to costa rica, i’ve seen pictures and i think it’s the most beautiful place i’ve ever seen.” you can’t help but smile at his plans, they’re quite nice. “and you?” he asks you your question.

“i want to become a veterinarian. i love animals so much, i’ve rescued some! dogs and cats!”

“what do you do after? do you keep them?” he questions.

“oh no no! i’m allergic to cats, i just send them to a shelter or put them up for adoption. when animals stay in shelters too long they sometimes kill them, and i hate that. i wish i could keep every animal i rescue, but ive only kept two dogs, two german shepherds.”

dae-ho laughs. “remind me not to mess with you, then.” you laugh at his joke.

“yeah, don’t.” you suck on your bottom lip and look at him. “but, apart from becoming a veterinarian, I’d also like to marry a handsome guy, and maybe start a family, although, I’m alright with dogs—how many kids do you want?”

“i want 4.” your breath hitches, and you grimace, you’re acting as if you’re gonna be the mother, but, you couldn’t help it.

“your poor wife.” you place your lips into a thin line. you two share a short laugh and continue to get to know each other.

you and dae-ho grew fond of each other in only 3 months, he was even walking you to your house, no matter the fact that his house was nearly 20 minutes from yours.

one night, you and dae-ho stand in your front steps, before you say goodbye, he grabs your hand and caresses it softly. “y/n.” he begins, he has all of your attention. “why don’t we… take a break from the bakery and go to an actual restaurant…maybe tomorrow?” he pauses between his words, thinking thoroughly about what he’s saying. when he sees your expression soften, he knows it’s going great.

“i’d love to.” you smile widely and place a hand on his cheek gently. the two of you share a sweet moment, he said he’ll text you the details, and you dismiss him with a kiss on the cheek and the blood rushing to his cheek makes your heart flutter.

one date led to another, and then another, after that, another one, until it became a weekly thing. when the two of you graduated, he quickly went off to the marines, and you were proud of him for that, he could do what he wished for, but you were terrified at the same time, terrified that one day he might not come home, and the thought of that destroyed you.

him coming back home permanently meant everything to you, you thought that maybe you could start a family now, you were at a fine age, you were married and financially stable, your job was paying you very well, and so was, dae-ho’s, but now that he’s back—forever now, that might change—and, it did.

you turn sideways on your bed, your hand brushes the cold spot next to you, it’s empty, you don’t like that feeling at all, it makes you feel empty. you remember the moments when dae-ho kept you warm, the times after intimate moments when you would just lay in his chest, staring into his eyes, or simply when you would fall asleep in each other’s arms.

you check the time, and it’s 2:34 am, you sigh and stare at your ceiling, and you start to feel tears pooling in your eyes. you stand from your bed and head over to the closet. there, you take one of dae-ho’s jackets and hug it, as if he was wearing it as if you were hugging him. his scent made your heart ache, this was the closest you’d been to him in almost two months.

you sob your heart out as you slide down the wall, softly murmuring his name like a prayer, hoping he’ll hear you.

your finger softly curls dae-ho’s hair, and the two of you admire each other in the spotlight, his hand on your hip and yours on his shoulder, sharing the prom king and queen dance.

“prom king, huh?” you raise an eyebrow.

“no thanks to you, prom queen.” he chuckles and you roll your eyes.

“what’s a king without his queen?” dae-ho raises his eyebrows and nods. “this is so embarrassing, i hope they’re not looking—or looking at you.” you chuckle.

“no, trust me. they’re looking at you.” your eyes light up, and your face gets hot, but you don’t know if it’s because of embarrassment or his compliment. “you look unbelievable tonight, y/n. i can’t imagine you on our wedding day.” he says, your mouth opens and your heart flutters, god, you cannot wait to marry him, he’s all you’ve ever wished for, you don’t care that he’s your first love, you think he’s the love of your life—you know he is, and that’s what matters, not what people think.

“i love you.” your confession catches him off guard, he’s said it before, but you never said it back, only ‘me too’ but the words ‘I love you’ have never come out of your mouth, and even though you’ve been wanting to say it ever since the moment you laid eyes on him, something has been stopping you, but you knew it was about time.

“i love you more,” he says back, and you smile widely. you embrace each other, but continue your dance until it concludes.

shortly after graduation, the two of you decided that after dae-ho serves his time in the marines, you’d get married—and so you did. your wedding was beautiful, it was intimate, with only two or three family members from dae-ho’s side, for obvious reasons, and almost your whole family tree.

your family loved dae-ho as if he was their own, and that made you feel very grateful, dae-ho had a rough childhood, and seeing him get the love he never had growing up was better than anything you could ever ask for.

the day of your marriage was truly the happiest day you’ve ever been, and let’s not even talk about the night. from then on, you appreciated every single moment with dae-ho, you always have, but you’re treasuring them even more now. the two of you began to travel, you started with costa rica, of course, and so on—you went to some places such as japan, tennessee, bali, dominican republic, and all of europe, you’d hope that between this year and next, you can finish traveling the caribbean because dae-ho loves the caribbean and the beaches.

you had planned for the bahamas on your next trip, but this is around the time when your husband was struggling, and when he turned up missing.

dae-ho has been missing for almost two months, he just vanished into thin air, he didn’t leave you a note, or a text message, he just… left. and you missed him dearly, you thought these months as an eternity, and you couldn’t take it anymore.

the orange bottle of full pills was tempting you—you wanted to end this pain, you wanted to end it now. he could end it, if he would just show up on the doorstep, just him, you don’t even want flowers or a gift, you just need him, or the other reason to end it is to just not keep living.

why would you need to keep living? the reason you are hasn’t been here with you these days—you have no reason to keep living, so why not just finish it?

your brother found you, he took you in his arms, sobbing and calling out your name. the bright hospital light was bothering you, your vision was blurry and your heartbeat was steady, slower than usual, but it was still beating, and that was the important thing.

the cold, dry air of the hospital made you feel sicker as if you were actually dead. you had your eyes closed when you felt a familiar, warm touch in your hand. you try your best to open your eyes, but your vision is still blurry.

“dae-ho?” you croak, a drop of wetness rolling down your cheek in pain. you hear no answer, so you don’t know if you’re hallucinating, or dreaming, but you cry.

you had thought that maybe—maybe he’d been back, oh, god you wish he’d been back, just so that you could spend the time you have left with him—but one thing is for sure, and it’s that you’ll soon be seeing him, whether that would be in the flesh, or the after life, is still to be decided.

❛ i wish i could live without you

but you’re a part of me. ❜

[jbbartram-illu]

Time for a brief break from posting ceramic animals to post some flesh & blood ones (see alt text for species!)!

My partner's mom & stepdad took us to Costa Rica (near Tamarindo) for his 40th birthday & I was in bird/creature heaven! The nearest rainforest was a bit too far from where we were staying, but I got to experience some wonderful dry tropical forest & estuary/river ecosystems, plus got some good hangout time with the Pacific ocean <3

My partner gave me the good DSLR for the nature tours we went on & it was a joy being able to take pretty OK photos instead of sad zoomed-in cheapest-iPhone ones (obviously I still have a lot to learn, but these are exciting as a beginning!!):

Since our two nature tours were boat-based (one on the Palo Verde River, one on an estuary in Las Baulas park), most of my decent bird photos are herons, as they're larger, generally lower-down, & also move more slowly than goddamn passerines/parrots/smaller birds.

I did get an ok-ish shot of a common black hawk, tho!! LOOK at that eagle-y beak!

& finally, the reptiles!! There were green iguanas & black spiny-tailed iguanas absolutely everywhere...

...AND WE SAW AMERICAN CROCODILES!!

On the Palo Verde river tour we saw some BIG guys (smallest maybe 6', biggest must have been 10'-12')!

& on the estuary tour we saw a few young ones. Two were less than 3' long, and this guy was maybe 4' and let us get super close b/c it was tucked away in the mangrove roots!

I had a wonderful time on this trip and am already looking forward to coming back for a rainforest-focused adventure next time!!

Also, Tamarindo has two really good coffee shops run by the loveliest people (Nordico Coffee & Derecho Sagrado) so if you're ever there, pls check them out!

FIN!

[modmad]

hi mod!! do you happen to have any tips for those of us who are masking at work and still want to stay hydrated?? i wanna be safe, but water is a MUST ;; even if you can't think of anything, i hope you have a good day!!

okay so I admit working from home gets me out of this situation a lot, BUT. on the occasions I've been on a train and been Thorsty I used this! when I went to Costa Rica one of the most wonderful things I purchased and have kept ever since is The Bitey Woter Tube

What the Fuck is That you ask, well it's a Platypus Drink Tube and all you do is screw it onto your platypus waterbottle or plastic bag. thing. whatever. turn the bottle upside down, 'bite' lightly on the sucky part (which opens the end of the weird straw) and then use it... like a weird straw.

I survived hiking around in a rainforest for a month with this sucker (literally) and I've found it oddly useful ever since covid hit, bc you can sorta shove it into the side of your mask for a sip when you are dying from dehydration and not have to take the mask off fully.

If you want to look marginally less bizarre (and you have the option) I'd suggest simply leaving the crowded areas to go have a drink break outside or in a corridor, but if you can't leave and don't mind people asking what the fuck that thing is, this has been working for me!

[hard--headed--woman]

"I had to fight to be myself and to be respected. I'm proud to say I'm a lesbian. I don't talk about it too much, but I don't deny it. I've had to confront society and the Church, which says that homosexuals are condemned. It's absurd! How can they judge someone who was born that way? I didn't learn to be a lesbian, nobody taught me to be the way I am. I was born this way. I've never slept with a man. I've never slept with a man. Yes, I'm a virgin and I'm not ashamed. My Gods made me this way"

- Chavela Vargas

Chavela Vargas (María Isabel Anita Carmen de Jesús Vargas Lizano) was a Mexican singer of Costa Rican origin, born in 1919 in Costa Rica and died in 2012 in Mexico.

She is considered a leading figure in ranchera music, which she sang with strength and emotion. Her voice, rough and warm at the same time, served her theatrical, passionate and human interpretations of standards from the traditional Mexican repertoire.

"And since I have to say it almost everywhere, I'll say it: my parents didn't want me. I suffered for it".

She has an extremely difficult and conflicted relationship with her family, who do not accept her in any way. As a teenager, she left her country and her family for Mexico. The young woman rejected and criticised the ultra-conservative society in which she lives. Once in Mexico, she began singing in the streets.

In the 1940s, she became friends with the painters Diego Rivera and Frida Kahlo, staying with them for a while and becoming Frida Kahlo's lover.

At the age of 30, she was noticed on Mexico City's Avenida Insurgentes by the composer and famous rancheras singer José Alfredo Jiménez, who became the author of her main hits. With his help, she performed in the cabarets of Mexico City in the mid-1950s before embarking on the road to success in Acapulco, an international tourist destination, where she sang at one of Elizabeth Taylor's weddings.

Chavela Vargas rose to fame in the 1960s and 1970s, touring the world. She became a well-known figure in ranchera song, to which she gave a new lease of life.

Dressed like a man, smoking and drinking like a man, carrying a pistol, "the lady with the red poncho, silver hair and brown flesh" as the Spanish singer Joaquín Sabina described her, is characterised by her red sarape.

In a television interview in 2000, she came out as a homosexual woman. This is where the text at the beginning of the post is from!

Chavela's career reached its peak from the recording of her first album (Noche de Bohemia) in 1961 until the end of the 1970s. This was followed by a long period of fifteen years, during which the singer, suffering from a heavy addiction to alcohol, interrupted her musical career, which she did not resume until 1991.

Encouraged by her friend, the director Pedro Almodóvar, who compared her to Édith Piaf, Chavela embarked on a world tour, performing at the Olympia in Paris and Carnegie Hall in New York. Among her most outstanding performances was Tú me acostumbraste by Frank Domínguez in Pedro Almodóvar's film Babel. Being a close friend of Pedro, she has appeared in several of his films, including The Flower of My Secret.

Following a final concert in Madrid on 10 July 2012 to present her album (La Luna Grande), she was hospitalised in the Spanish capital with serious respiratory problems. She died on 5 August 2012, aged 93.

I am sure you know at least one of her song, La Llorona !

In any case, Chavela was an immense artist who had a profound impact on music, and I'm delighted to have discovered her, or rather re-discovered her. I listened to some of her songs and they're amazing if you like that kind of music ! And please look her up yourself, she was such an interesting person, I couldn't talk about everything in this post or it would have been too long !

[elzdaizy]

Trouble After Paradise (Part 1)

Warnings: lots of angst, conflict, explicit language.

Summary of short story: Reader and Harry have returned from their honeymoon to a harsh reality and their first huge hurdle as a married couple.

A/N: This is 1 of 3 parts. Enjoy! Just a little short story idea i had and wanted to share with you all.

It’s been four weeks since you returned home from your honeymoon in Costa Rica and you’ve found yourself reminiscing constantly on that magical holiday.

To say the least, things have took a turn for the worst since you and Harry got home.

You were bombarded with mountains of piles of work to get through because there was no one to fill your position whilst you’d taken the month off leading up to your wedding, including the honeymoon.

Harry had started filming his next movie, one that was mentally draining due to his character being a very unwell mental patient at a psychiatric hospital.

You worked from seven in the morning until four in the afternoon in the office but always brought home some work to do which kept you busy until about eight at night when you’d get into bed.

Weekends were exhausting as well, you were catching up with friends and family after basically being off the grid throughout the week.

Harry’s shooting location, thankfully, was only a few hours away up north in Manchester so he managed to be home often between breaks but unfortunately meant that he wasn’t home with you for periods of times.

He tries his best to be at home with you on the weekends but his schedule doesn’t work that way all the time. On average you probably see each other a total of two days out of the week and it’s been this way the past four weeks.

You’ve both been so busy, you’ve barely had the time to live life together as a married couple. There’s a tension building full of stress and exhaustion on both ends of your marriage. You find yourselves bickering when you’re together and getting on each other’s nerves more than ever before.

You know it’s because you’re equally annoyed with yourselves and each other with the current situation.

It’s 8pm on a Friday night and Harry called you earlier that morning to let you know he’s coming home today at around 6:30pm and will be able to stay the full week until he’s off again. He asked for you to pick him up from the station because he had booked a meal at The Ivy for 8pm. You of course said yes. You were so excited to hear the news, you felt tears well up in your eyes. “I really can’t wait, I miss you so much.” You replied before you both said your goodbyes and I love you’s before hanging up.

What you didn’t know was that working would be busier than ever that Friday and now you’re still in the office trying to hurry up and finish off one last piece of paper work to be sent off to your client before the weekend. Your phone had died two hours ago and Harry hadn’t contacted you before it died so you weren’t too concerned that he would’ve tried to since then.

You could cry out of frustration. You purposely stayed back to get all this extra work done so you could book off Monday and Tuesday to extend your weekend to spend some time with your husband.

Half an hour later, you finally send the email and pack up your stuff. You race to your car and make your way home. The door is unlocked when you go to turn the key and your heart skips a beat when you realise that Harry must be home.

The lights are all off downstairs which is odd so you make your way upstairs to your bedroom to find Harry sat on the edge of the bed in just his underwear and his phone in his hands.

“Hi, baby.” You softly speak up as you walk through the door and put your bag and coat over the chair in the corner of the room.

Harry glances at you over his shoulder briefly without so much as a tiny acknowledgment of your presence before looking back to his phone.

You frown, thinking his behaviour seems a bit off. The energy in the room seems low and you can sense he’s not in a good mood.

You walk over to him, a hand on his shoulder and the other hand reaching to lift his head by tilting his chin in your direction for him to look up at you. As soon as you try to lean forward to place a kiss to his lips he yanks his head away from your touch and rolls his eyes, letting out a huff.

You step back, very offended and extremely hurt by his cold actions.

“Fuck you, then.” You throw your hands up and storm away to head downstairs to the kitchen. You’re literally trying so hard not to break down and cry right now so you’re pacing around your kitchen, breathing heavily for a few moments then deciding to pour yourself a large glass of wine.

You almost down the first glass. The second one being poured less than five minutes later. You’re just stood by your kitchen island with a glass of wine in one hand and thoughts racing around your mind as you try to figure out why your husband seems to despise you at the moment.

You soon realise it could possibly be the fact that your phone was dead and maybe he was trying to get ahold of you.

You start to feel a pit of guilt in your stomach when you take your phone from your pocket and plug it into the charger point next to your toaster.

You finish your second glass of wine once your phone switches on and your eyes widen when you notice the ten missed calls and five unread messages from Harry.

You read the texts carefully one at a time.

From Harry:

6:09pm - l’m fifteen minutes away from the station if you want to set off now. Love you. Xx

6:30pm - Where are you? I’m waiting near the security box until you’re here. Xx

6:53pm - I’ve rung you five times and you’re not answering so I’m making my own way home now.

7:26pm - Why aren’t you answering and why aren’t you at home? You do realise we have to be at The Ivy in half an hour.

8:03pm - cancelled the booking. If you read this before you come home - don’t bother me when you get in, I can’t be arsed with this tonight.

You heart feels like it’s going to stop. You have never felt more terrible in your life. You feel like a punch to the gut is what you deserve right now and nothing less. And to think, you literally just spat in his face and said fuck you to him, still not realising what you’d done.

You were so fixated on wanting to spend the week with Harry that you’d completely forgotten about picking him up and going out for dinner tonight.

You were a little drunk and very upset with yourself so of course the only thing currently you did was start to cry. You sat on a stool at your island, lent your elbows on the countertop, put your face in your hands and sobbed. Sobbed for your husband and how upset he must be feeling. Sobbed at the realisation of how much you hurt him and let him down. You felt like a failure.

After about thirty minutes of letting your feelings flow out of your system uncontrollably, you composed yourself and prepared yourself to go and apologise profusely. You’d gone over what to say in your head a million times and nothing sounded good enough but you know the least he deserves is an apology rather than an explanation or excuse right now.

Your face is puffy and red from the crying as you shakily walk up the stairs to your room and find Harry is now laying under the covers with the tv on, watching a movie with a deep frown on his face. As if he’s in deep thought rather than paying attention to the screen.

You push the door open gently and let yourself in. Basically walking with your tail between your legs, you can barely look at him as you sit on the bottom corner of the bed on your side. You couldn’t be further away from him on the bed if you tried.

“Harry, I’m so sorry.” You croak. Lips quivering as you fight the urge to break down crying again. You finally look at him after your first attempt at the beginning of a long apology. He’s ignoring you. Keeping his eyes fixed on the screen and his arms crossed over his chest.

You decide to keep speaking, “I completely understand why you’re angry and I don’t want to give myself any excuses for-.”

He reaches for the remote and turns up the volume to drown out your voice.

You let out a shaky sigh. A tear slipping down your cheek. “I didn’t ignore you on purpose- look, can you please just say something?” You beg pathetically and Harry’s head turns as his eyes look at you with anger.

“Told you I can’t be fucked with this tonight just leave me alone, please.” He sighs in annoyance before completely turning his back to you as he lays on his side.

You really don’t know what to say now. You didn’t expect this reaction from him. He’s never been this angry with you before and it’s terrifying you slightly because you really can’t cope with it. You don’t even care if he shouts at this point, you just want more of a reaction from him.

He has every right to feel the way he does, you know that. You hate going to sleep on bad terms though. You both agreed to always resolve conflicts before getting into bed because you never wanted to be that couple that gets into fights and makes one or the other sleep on the sofa.

It seems like it’s going to be that way tonight though. You don’t want to say another word because you don’t want to make it worse. Even though you know you won’t get much sleep, you decide to go sleep downstairs on the couch. You could go sleep in the spare room but you need a tv to distract you from your racing thoughts so the living room it is.

You get up from the bed, go take a quick shower and change into your pyjamas before grabbing your pillow from your side of the bed and walking towards the door.

“Goodnight, Harry. I love you.” You say to him softly before closing the door behind yourself and making your way downstairs.

You turn on a shitty reality show to fall asleep too. It takes a few hours but eventually you drift off.

The next morning you’re awoken by the sound of the blender rattling off in the kitchen. You feel at peace for a split second as your groggy memory clears up as your consciousness comes back, along with the awful events of last night. You grimace start yourself as you sit up on the couch and turn around to see Harry standing in the kitchen, making himself a smoothie, dressed in his running gear.

It mustn’t be any later than 6am because he only likes going running at the crack of dawn. He hasn’t noticed that you’re awake yet but you know he’s still fuming by the look on his face.

Now that you’re not intoxicated and knowing it’s a new day, you’re determined to resolve this issue very soon. You don’t want to waste any more of the short time you two have together for the next four days being bitter.

You get up from the couch and stretch before walking over to the kitchen island and taking a seat on the stool you were sobbing on last night.

“Morning.” You say with a tired voice as Harry still hasn’t acknowledged you whilst he’s cleaning up some dishes. You’re both facing each other on opposite sides of the island.

Harry looks up at you frowning and doesn’t reply so you take it as your queue to go in strong with all guns blazing.

“Can we please talk about this now?” You plead. Harry just deadpans and looks at you with a look that tells you no as he picks up his AirPods and puts them in as he makes his way to the door to go on his run.

“What the actual fuck! This is an actual fucking nightmare.” You frustratingly shout to no one but yourself after Harry closes the door on his way out.

[perfectly-m1saligned]

K!nktober day 4

Followin @dreamlandcreations prompt list. Day four: food play; biting/marks; drunk sex (they were all too good to not make a story with all of them). You can find all my stories on my Wattpad as well. Toodles!

(NSFW: MDNI!! Reader's discretion is advised)

Simon Riley x reader

(Husband! Simon)

cw: Simon is obsessed with his wife (as he should), oral (both f and m receiving), unprotected piv, creampie

word count: 2628

a/n: this is my longest one yet, but trust me, it's WORTH IT

No one would've ever pinned Lieutenant Simon Riley for a romantic, not even you when you had first met him, really, yet you couldn't deny that your husband was full of surprises. The day you said "I do" at the altar, you didn't just get married to Simon, but to his job, too. And now, said job was the culprit behind your delayed honeymoon.

A dangerous mission had taken Task Force 141 somewhere in South America for two whole months, eight weeks in which you had barely received any updates from your husband from burner phones that made him sound like he was talking through a brick. Still, Simon never thought he would be grateful for a near-death experience, but apparently there's always a first time for everything. The mission had taken place in Costa Rica and, even though he was sent to the nasty part of it, he had been able to catch a glimpse of the crystal clear water, beautiful beaches, and the opportunities that the country had to offer to civilian tourists.

As soon as he came home to you, he had bought two plane tickets, but since his trip-planning skills were fairly limited, he hoped to make it up to you by booking the honeymoon suite at the fanciest all-inclusive resort he could find; also, he couldn't risk having you seeing the same atrocities he had while on mission.

Simon wasn't exactly the most tactful guy, so he didn't really provide any explanation when he tossed onto the bed the envelope with the two tickets inside, just a gruff "we're leaving in two days" and then he was out of the bedroom, leaving your confused, half-asleep form babbling like a fish out of the water.

You never pinned your husband for a romantic, but you couldn't have been any happier when, as you walked down the hotel's hallway to your suite, he picked you up bridal style, his heart melting at the sound of your sweet giggles, your arms wrapped around his neck as he carried you over the threshold of your room. Lucious, spacious, opening onto a small living room, an arched entryway led to the bedroom - and you wondered just how many people could fit in that gigantic bed - which was lined with floor-to-ceiling windows, a wooden balcony extending outside, with an opening onto your very own personal pool, and the ocean right next to it. There was also a bathtub in the bedroom, and your heart clenched with sympathy for the cleaning ladies, what they had to see- and definitely what they would see after your stay.

The staff had left a fruit basket on the bed, a little note that you were now cradling between your fingers where they expressed their gratitude for choosing their establishment and wished their best to your marriage, and a bottle of expensive champagne. "How about we wait tonight to celebrate?" Simon asked, his voice a low purr next to your ear as he encircled your waist from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder. "How about you put on one of those sexy bikinis you packed and we go enjoy the free bar, hm?" You didn't have to be told twice before eagerly agreeing, "free bar" was possibly your favourite combination of words in the English language.

You decided on a plain black bikini, with two small golden chains that ran along the underside of your breasts, and a small golden pendant that hung off the side of your bikini bottoms. Simon was wearing matching black swimming trunks, his sculpted chest carrying battle scars, tattoos lining his left forearm, ink-stained skin that you ran your fingers on countless times, memorising every line and curve. You loved Simon's body, just like every other part of him, but sometimes you forgot that he didn't exactly look like a civilian, with his crooked nose and the silver scar cutting over his bottom lip. He didn't care about the dirty side-eyed glances he received from the people that crowded the beach; as long as he had those big eyes of yours looking up at him with love, like he hung the moon and the stars, he was happy.

"How much did you pay for the whole thing anyway?" You asked, sipping on your second - perhaps third - margarita, sitting at one of the high stools that surrounded the beach bar, your feet dipped in the water. "Eh, don't even remember," Simon lied. "But I had been saving a small sum on the side for our honeymoon." Your lips curled up in a warm smile, eyes twinkling and filled with love, even as you watched your 6'4", 250+lbs husband sip on some pink fruity cocktail.

The sun was setting, so you decided to head back to your suite to get ready for dinner. How you were going to achieve that was still unclear, since you were both fairly tipsy, your arm secured around his as you couldn't stop giggling. The moment the door closed behind you, Simon picked you up effortlessly, a small squeak leaving your mouth as the room started spinning around you. "Simon, we should-" your thought was interrupted by Simon's lips, catching yours into a scorching kiss, tongue impatiently running along your bottom lip, seeking entrance, which you immediately granted, letting him delve deeper, coaxing a moan.

A growl rumbled in his chest, fingers digging in the supple flesh of your ass, pressing you against his chest impossibly closer. "Fuck the dinner," he whispered against your lips, his breath still carrying the liquor. "I need my wife." Before you could realise what was happening, your back hit the mattress, and soon Simon's weight followed as he settled himself between your thighs, caging you to the bed with two large hands on either side of your head. "And since the hotel staff was so kind..." he reached for one of the strawberries that laid in the fruit basket. "I have everything I need right here. A tasty meal," - he ran the strawberry down to the valley of your breasts, making you gasp - "and dessert." He said, sporting a cocky smirk as he brought the strawberry to his lips and bit into it.

He placed the unbitten part of the fruit between his lips, now tinted a faintly darker shade of pink, and he lowered his head. You met him halfway, snatching the strawberry with your own teeth before letting yourself fall back against the pillows. Simon watched you eat, brown irises almost eclipsed by his pupils, dilated by lust and the desire to fuck you stupid, the alcohol making his fingers itch to touch you even more. "What?" You asked, amused. He shook his head. "Just thinking about the ways I'm going to ruin you, my love." He whispered, running a hand over your bikini top, catching the small golden chain with his index finger, making you shudder with anticipation.

You never stopped being his good girl, so pliant under his touch as he undid the knots of your bikini top, discarding it onto the floor, and moved to remove your bottoms, so you lifted your hips to help him slide them down your legs. The both of you were still a little hazy, drunken giggles mixing with your breathy gasps, every touch of his fingers making your skin come alive with goosebumps. Simon took a moment to lean back and admire your naked form, the dips and curves he's memorised through the ears with every part of his body. He reached for the basket again. "Now I need you to stay still, love." He ordered with a purr, fetching some grapes, placing them in a neat line from your collarbone to your lower abdomen.

You kept your head and neck movements to a minimum, your eyes carefully following the way his fingers placed the little green grapes with care across your bare skin. A small chuckle made your chest stutter with mirth, causing one of the fruits to fall onto the mattress. Simon's eyes darkened in warning. "I said don't move, love. Or I'll have to punish you." Your eyes widened at the quietly-spoken threat, lips pressed together to suppress any unwanted sound or twitch of your body. When everything was in place, Simon slowly started to eat the grapes, lips closing around it and leaving a wet, warm mark on your body.

Once he'd caught the one that laid between your breasts, your chest suddenly caved as he proceeded to pepper the sensitive, supple flesh with more kisses, lips closing in on one of your erect nipples, making you hiss in pleasure. "Simon-" you called out with a moan. "Don't. Move." He growled, giving your other nipple a gentle pinch with his teeth, coaxing a whimper. As he continued his path down your torso, you couldn't help the giggle that involuntarily slipped past your lips when he caught the grape he'd placed on your navel, the swipe of his tongue tickling you. His large hands secured around your spread thighs, he gave them a punitive, bruising squeeze. "S- Sorry!" You squeaked meekly, earning a displeased hum from him as he chewed.

Finally, he reached the last one, and you almost bucked your hips upwards, body sizzling with anticipation. "Patience, my love," he whispered, hot breath fanning across your hooded clit as he swallowed the final grape. "Fuck..." you mewled, back arching away from the bed when he pressed his tongue flat onto your drenched slit, lapping up the arousal that had collected between your folds. He moaned, the vibration he sent against your pussy making you see stars. The alcohol in your system made you even more sensitive, your hole weeping with juices that leaked onto Simon's face, covering his lips and chin with a glistening coat.

"You taste so good, my love...fuck," he murmured, peppering your puffy lips with kisses. "So wet already, I can't wait to stretch that tiny hole with my cock." His words made you shudder, an incoherent babble leaving your mouth. "Hm? What was that, lovie?" He prompted, a wolfish grin on his face as he looked up at you through hooded eyes and bushy blonde brows. "Need...cock..." You managed to utter, hands fisting the pristine sheets as he kept his assault onto your sensitive cunt.

"Such a desperate little girl, you." He chuckled, circling your needy hole with the tip of his finger. "I know that you turn naughty after a few drinks but Jesus, baby, you're filthy tonight." His dirty talk made you chase his teasing finger with your hips, and he cooed, finally obliging to your silent plea and pushing his fore and middle finger into your needy entrance. You gasped, eyes wide open before you squeezed them shut again, He kept sucking onto your swollen and sensitive clit as he scissored against your gummy walls, stretching you out to accommodate him later. You were a squirming, moaning mess, leaking onto the bed sheets, leaving wet splotches, as you felt the heat coil in your stomach, bringing you closer to the edge.

"Simon...'m gonna..." A frustrated cry followed, as Simon withdrew his fingers and pulled away, making you prop yourself up on your elbows, brows furrowed in a scowl as he got up from the bed. "What the f-" you were silenced when he shoved his cock past your lips with one long thrust, balls hitting your chin as he buried himself in your throat. "That's it," he praised. "Good girl, take it all in that pretty mouth of yours." Hand fisting your hair in a makeshift ponytail, Simon fucked your face with deliberate thrusts, making sure you would coat the whole length of his shaft with your saliva. He grunted your name, chest heaving with ragged breaths, and he had to stop before he accidentally came in your mouth; he was more sensitive when he was drunk, but he wanted to enjoy the night to its fullest

Your lips made a soft 'pop' when Simon unsheathed himself, a string of drool still connecting your tongue to the tip of his cock. You looked up at your husband, doe-eyed, as he caught his breath. "Good girl, y/n, look at this," he held his member with one large hand. "Can't wait to fuck you stupid, love." A giddy grin grew on your lips, and you settled back onto the bed, eagerly waiting for him, but you saw him move away instead. "Si-"

"Easy, love, I'm just putting these in a safer location." He reassured you, a hint of amusement in his voice as he placed the fruit basket and the bottle of champagne onto the desk. "Though I like seeing you like this, so desperate for my cock." You merely suppressed a pathetic whimper, cheeks glowing red at his filthy words. He made his way back, putting one knee after the other, mattress dipping under his weight as he ventured one again between your thighs. "Sorry for the delay, my love," he whispered, lips skimming the sensitive side of your throat. "But I wanted our honeymoon to be perfect, to make sure I could show you exactly how I'll treat you for the rest of our lives."

His teeth sank into the thin flesh, just as his tip entered your weeping hole, your breath taken away inch after inch. Simon growled, biting down harder until he kissed your cervix, fully buried inside you. "Oh fuck, Simon-" you hissed at the delicious ache caused by the stretch, the heels of your feet pressing down on his ass to somehow get him even deeper. "What a greedy little thing you are, y/n," he murmured, chasing away the sting of his bite, running a flat tongue over the deep red mark. "Already full of my cock yet you want more, hm? We'll see about that."

You weren't sure if sex could get you drunk, but it surely looked like you were drunk off your husband's relentless fucking, his merciless thrusts making your pussy release the the filthiest squelching sounds, his lower abdomen covered in your squirt, the room filled with your voiced pleasure as he held you in a mating press, knees bent at your ears. Simon had his hands secured on the back of your legs, hips angled so he could drive his hungry dick as deep inside you as possible, a proud smirk on his lips as he watched your eyes roll back into your skull, your neck and breasts covered in red and purple-ish marks. He wasn't exactly thinking about the fact that you would have to walk around practically half naked for the next two weeks; clearly, it wasn't really one of his concerns right now.

"Simon," you called out, your hands curling around his forearms, neatly manicured nails sinking into his skin. "Please, please, please, 'm gonna cum...please!" Simon welcomed your plea, keeping the exact same pace that was driving you over the edge, and felt your gummy walls clenching his length almost painfully as the orgasm wrecked through you, making you scream out his name. Your muscles were squeezing him so tight Simon couldn't really hold on much longer, his own orgasm finding release deep inside your warm cunt, the spasms of your womb drinking his cum greedily as he grunted your name.

Silence fell once you had both rode out your high, a low, pleased hum leaving his lips as he unsheathed himself, consequently collapsing onto the bed next to you. You were both sweaty and spent, yet too tired to get up to wash yourselves. "Simon?" You called out softly after a couple of silent minutes. "Hm?" He replied lazily. "Are we going to spend every day like this?" You asked. "Oh, for sure." He chuckled, snaking a hand around your waist to bring you into his chest, nuzzling his nose in your hair. You sighed, a smile tugging at your lips. "Good."

•This is an original work of fiction, please do not copy, translate and/or share on this on another platform without credit•