#i need to have more grace for my mistakes than the adults in my life did while i was growing up

[choking-on-roses]

They should invent a losing/forgetting things because you have a disorder that makes you lose/forget things that doesn't make me feel so guilty and frustrated I want to cry

[simplystaticstrike]

📺 *⁠.⁠✧ VOX × READER *⁠.⁠✧ 📺

｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+ WARNING:

Cursing. Insults. Manipulation? Degradation. Rude behavior. Mentions of depravity and loneliness.

｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+ GENRE/THEME:

Hate-Love. Loving hatred. Unrequited attraction. Speculative attraction.

｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+ SYNOPSIS:

Vox is known for being a cocky and confident overlord, famously known for his Vox-Tech. His behavior is rather rash, and no one even thinks about standing up to him. Well, all apart from this one determined critic who is looking out to make his flaws known.

｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+ AUTHORS NOTE:

This is technically my first time writing an OFFICIAL fanfic, so apologies if it isn't TOO great or professional. This isn't proof read so try to look over the mistakes, if there are any!

Always striving for personal growth, Vox was a motivated individual constantly preoccupied with his numerous responsibilities. He cherished the VEES, as their workplace possessed an air of authority that lead to carefully considered decisions, having a lasting impact on thousands. Embracing a luxurious aesthetic from its granite walls to lavish mahogany floors and comfortable handcrafted desks, the high ellipsoidal ceilings grace each room with both spaciousness and importance. There was no room for anyone else or any kind of hobby with Vox's overbearing passions and works. Being alone, however, made him reflect on his decisions in life. He wondered if he had chosen the right path. As a child, he had always dreamed of a family of his own. Yet as a young, independent adult, he found himself more alone than he had ever been. Despite the joy and cheer he saw all around him, specifically emitting from Velvette and Valentino, Vox just couldn't feel it too. Truly and genuinely at least. With no one to share his thoughts or feelings with, he often sat by himself in his room, contemplating his life choices. He found himself wishing for a companion, someone to celebrate his accomplishments with and make him feel less lonely. However, another part of him told him that what he was looking for wasn't another person and he only assumed that because of the undertaking tension that festered within past relationships. He didn’t particularly like to think about that. Instead, what seemed to be his main purpose to live involved business and business only. He lost himself in the worlds created by successful businessmen, savoring every detail; their days were spent in a routine of hard work and introspection. They found solace in their businesses. Vox wanted that too, more than anything.

The VEE headquarters was its usual tranquil self, with employees busily typing away and chatting on the phone in their spacious cubicles. The labyrinthine workspace seemed to stretch on forever, each area was a unique world populated by a diverse array of individuals. There were the quiet ones, the loud ones, and those who loved to boast about their sadistic affairs. Vox, on the other hand, was as usual, on the move, determined to make progress. He strode confidently over to the excited crowd awaiting his approach,

Vox was ready to tackle his next challenge:

"Hello, my lovely patrons! I'm assuming you all are looking for some form of reassurance after that crazy battle at lil princess morningstar's hotel, yeah?" The overlord questioned the chaotic crowd, his voice loud and clear.

"Yes, sir!"

"Are you still working on those angelic securities?" The angels will definitely come back with full force next time, right?"

"why, of course! Your safety is our priority after all!" Vox declared, outstretching his hands out in a gesture of triumph.

"but, sir! Is that even necessary? I mean, the princess and her band of misfits kinda showed those angels up! So, wouldn't we just need some angelic weapons?" No cameras and shit, right?"

Vox was taken aback by the sudden question, and his voice was infused with disbelief: "Heh, I mean weapons aren't ALL you need. Have I ever stood you all wrong before?" He crossed his arms, quirking a single brow.

Silence.

Then a scoff.

Vox's jaw tightened as he trained his eyes on the customer that dismissed his statement. "excuse me?" He watched as they stepped forward, pushing past the other customers determinedly. "And you are?"

"Y/n," They stated, extending their hand out for a hand shake. "Professional critic; Been following you for a long time, Vox."

“Really now?” Vox questioned quietly, hesitantly accepting the handshake. He crossed his arms, continuing broodingly, "What do I need a critic for, eh?"

"The truth is bound to come out eventually, right?" The critic began, also crossing their arms as if they were mimicking the overlord. "So, I must say that it is because of you and your not so delightful personality, sir. I have heard countless of statements from employee's who are just tired of working for you. Now, I'm not saying you're a bad person. You're just hard to deal with and that's just me being conservative."

Vox blinked, craning his head to look back at his subordinates who quickly scattered away in worry. Looking back at Y/n, he forced a polite smile. A part of him had expected that answer, but another part had hoped for something entirely different.

“I can be demanding at times and may push the policies here and there to achieve success, but that's not enough reason to complain, now is it?” He narrowed his gaze onto the critic, as if he were challenging them. “Tell me, what did I do that was so terrible and difficult to deal with? What have you heard? Please, tell."

Y/n winced, pausing before answering, "Vox," they began, pulling a notepad out of their bag before they started reading off some statements from employees, "working with him was enjoyable at first, but over time, it became exhausting as he relied too heavily on me for things that didn't even fit into my department. It felt as if he was just using me to cover up his back."

Vox took a deep breath and clenched his fists. His screen glitched in frustration as he addressed Y/n, "They are MY employees. It's their job to cover my back and handle the workload. That's what they're getting paid for. What else am I supposed to do as their mentor? Play golf?" He took a step closer to the critic, his expression intensifying greatly.

Y/N flinched, "I understand that," they responded cautiously. "But THEY don't enjoy doing so much, and I don't feel like you appreciate them. You think of them as your servants and expect them to go above and beyond their duties."

Vox grimaced, taking a step closer, closing the distance almost entirely. “I'm doing the best I can, so please stop portraying me as the villain. I'm not asking too much from them. All I expect is for them to fulfill their responsibilities. If I were such a terrible supervisor,” he then muttered begrudgingly, “then my employees are even more terrible workers. They're only staying to be paid half of what their worth, but just enough to keep them coming back for more."

"are you kidding me?" Y/n asked cautiously, trying to hide their apprehension. "You--"

"Ya know, I am an honest man." Vox interrupted and jumped at the critics side, invasively wrapping an arm around them. "As honest as one could be! And to be COMPLETELY honest, I don't think being a critic is really the right career path for you, my dear. How about..." He paused, tightening his hold around Y/n. "A day laborer? You've got the look and a solid reputation to match, so why not consider a day laborer position? Although the work may be menial and leave you covered in dirt and grime, you'll do a great job, I’m sure. However, let's not kid ourselves – this is no cushy gig. But, given your lifestyle, you're more than capable of tackling it.”

“What the hell?!” y/n exclaimed, visibly offended. They pushed Vox away forcefully and slammed their notebook to the ground below, “That's so degrading!"

“It's yours. The job offer, I mean.”

“Wha— this is . . . why are you like this?”

Vox expression feigns solemnity, “You’re right. I haven’t appreciated my employees as much as I should have been. I know I’m a bit difficult to work with, but I’m sorry for taking them for granted. Their presence will definitely be appreciated from now on. I’m sure of it. Just as YOUR presence would be appreciated anywhere but here."

“You’re literally saying I’d be perfect doing unglamorous tasks, you fuckin' prick!” Y/n argued, defensively.

"Think twice and check yourself before you speak if glamor is what you're seeking, babes." Vox mused with a hint of sarcasm, booping the critic's nose. Then his voice got exceptionally lower, "But, I will admit, my dear, no one has ever stood up to me like this before. It's quite riveting.

I just might continue my distasteful behavior if it means you'll stick around and talk shit about me."

Surely, this was all a part of Vox's facade. He could careless if you come back or not, or at least that's what he told himself. Maybe, just maybe, if he had to choose to spend his time with anyone, it'd be y/n:

Because they surely were something.

[buckybarnesss]

it's amazing derek's functioning in s1.//

His sister was killed. Killed by his uncle. Who was the feral alpha. That bite a teenager. And there was Kate, who shot him and torture him.

And yet, he never try to take revenge. Is incredible that after all that. He really tried to do his best. He called Scott brother, he tried to make Scott trust him. He try to save him. When he was mad a Scott teen crush, he was seeing himself with Paige.

He wasn't the best communicating. But he tried.

He never used other or try to make them do something that they didn't want to. But Scott, he made Derek to bite Gerard. When Derek told him that the bite was a gift.

Scott is not a saint.

derek hale is probably one of the most traumatized characters to grace television and that's before we're introduced to him. i don't think derek had a break in life since before paige's death and he'd been existing in survival/crisis mode for years by wolf moon.

i'm of the mind that derek didn't receive the proper support he needed after having to mercy kill paige. which was an act of compassion to minimize her suffering a drawn out painful death. however, due to the circumstances her true cause of death had to be covered up and along with it derek's grief surrounding not just her dying but his participation in it.

this is what kate argent took advantage of to get close to derek. i think it's reasonable to assume that the substitute teacher angle can still be considered valid. we know the argents use this tactic and it was used in the on fire novel.

her being a sub would've put kate in position of trust and authority over him not to mention paige's death would be recent enough for her to easily find out about it as well as derek's connection to paige.

in fact, i think it was paige's death that was the impetus for kate even being in beacon hills but i digress.

all the adults in derek's life failed him.

the thing about derek hale is that never gives up and he never stays down despite the things life has thrown at him. he learns, he changes and he evolves as a person.

when scott and derek meet in wolf moon it's the worst possible time for them both and that impression is what lingers between them. derek's has a hard time not seeing scott as a reflection of his younger self and derek is so, so, so viscerally angry with teenage derek. it compounds when he believes scott is making the same mistakes he did.

scott, of course, responds to derek with bullheaded stubbornness because not only is scott a super independent person but he reacts very badly to male authority figures who want to exert any form of control over him.

rafe mccall is a piece of shit and i will stand by that. there is no one incident when your parent is an alcoholic but maybe it's my own personal bias showing. it's just hard to believe rafe only did something once especially when the supposed only incident is a grown man grabbing a small child with enough force that when the child resists they fall down the stairs resulting in losing consciousness.

the show makes it's clear melissa and rafe argued frequently and loudly, that melissa believes they're better without him. that says abusive household. hell, the man also seemingly checked out of his son's life for years and with the money issues the mccall's are shown to have does he even pay child support?

scott responds negatively to not just villains like peter, gerard, and duecalion but to also to normal power tripping mr. harris. his relationship with chris argent gets development so scott eventually respects him but it takes time and allison literally dying.

there's also the fact derek is not more than a few years older than him so scott does see derek as more of a peer throwing his weight around than he sees an adult with authority. derek using the "we're brothers now" line on scott triggered him and frankly derek it's a weird thing to put in your welcome speech. it's trying to inorganically force a relationship that isn't on that level. it's why it's both funny and sad when scott uses the line later on liam and stiles cringes so hard his soul leaves his body.

the only two male figures scott carries respect for throughout the show is sheriff stilinski and dr deaton. which is why it's so easy for deaton to get scott to go along with his plan in s2 without him thinking the repercussions entirely though.

don't misunderstand me scott's double cross in s2 is terrible but i think people forget deaton's role in it sometimes. there's a reason stiles wasn't in the loop on it like nearly every other plan scott does. i wish the narrative put more weight on it but i'm not surprised it was glossed over as teen wolf keeps everything snappy and fast paced. we don't frequently get time to dwell on things which is a shame because it could've provided interesting development.

if anyone tries to make scott a saint than they're lying but also the opposite is true. scott isn't evil like some fans seem to want him to be.

derek and scott's relationship is never straight forward and always complicated. they're both shitty to each for reasons due to their respective histories that the other has no way of knowing at the start.

but also like it's not teen wolf if there's not a failure to communicate to drag the plot out.

[sushywritez]

Stranger Danger | Older!Eddie M. X Fem!Reader | Intro

PLOT: Eddie is a loving single father and a busy man, he hires you on occasion to watch his child. Sometimes he wish he had the courage to ask you out, but one terrible weekend will prove to him he hasn't got much time. WARNINGS: blood, slight gore, language, suggestiveness, angst, fluff, thriller, slasher, divorce, and adult humor.

Tonight Hawkins Police are baffled by yet another series of brutal murders, claiming that no evidence has been found. All suspects appear to evade local officials leaving Hawkins' residents terrified; citizens have dubbed this mysterious stranger as The Night Walker–

The booming voice on T.V. is interrupted by the sudden blaring of the house phone. You quickly set aside the bowl of snacks and toss aside the blanket. You scoot to edge reaching for the phone. As you snatch it off the reciever, the caller I.D reveals it to be Eddie. He was a father to the sweetest little girl, whom you ended up babysitting for purely by mistake, but you loved it.

"Hello?" So deep in thought you forgot that'd your thumb had pressed the answer button. Oops.

"HI! Hey, Mr. Munson I'm sorry." You quickly apologized. "I dropped the phone." Scrambling to hold the device up to your ear, to be graced with that sweet laughter. Eddie has such a beautiful laugh, a kind souls, and even better heart. Not to mention how well he rook care of his daughter, not only that, Violet was respectful and energetic just like her Dad. How any mother could just drop out of their life is beyond you.

"Silly girl, always dropping stuff." He teases.

You scoff, "I do not always drop stuff."

"Oh, really?" Eddie inquires, a light chuckle escaping him.

"Yeah." You defend, unable to hold back the smile that spreads onto your face and Eddie can tell. "It's only sometimes."

"Okay." He agrees, enjoying your rather playful nature.. "Well, I didn't call you to just chat, Sweetheart. I need a favor–"

"Anything for you, Sir." You eagerly admit, and even before he can finish.

"Great." Eddie sighs in relief. "Now, I know I said you could have weekends off if you needed it, but I have to go out of town this weekend." He explains and you understood how busy his career kept him. Violet would miss him terribly and sometimes she couldn't sleep without him. "So I need you to stay over the weekend, Friday to Sunday, and take care of my little princess."

"Well, of course I wouldn't say no to that." Eddie is relieved and equally eased by your response. "I love Violet, she's a sweetheart." You add, already listing the many activities in your add and that she shall surely enjoy.

"That's great." Eddie sighs relieved. On his end he's engrossed in the activity of staring down at the little toddler playing at his feet. Her chin lifts up and a pair of bright green eyes find his. "She'll be excited." She tilts her head and he can tell that her little mind was working hard to figure out just exactly who was on the phone. Violet was incredibly sweet, but also intelligent in ways Eddie was more than proud of.

By the smile on his face and rosiness on her father's cheeks, there was only one answer. "Is that Miss (L/N), Daddy?" Violet drops her dolls and pulls herself to her feet, curling her tiny fingers in the fabric of his jeans to climb up into his lap. She's already reaching for the phone, Eddie laughing as her hands reach for the phone. "Daddy!" She whines, "Let me talk!"

You join in on the laughter, "I don't mind, Mr. Munson." You only encourage and he gives in mumbling something about spoiling you both then hands over the phone.

"Hi!" Violet squeals into the phone excitedly to which you respond with an eagerness.

"Hey, cutie. You keepin' him outta trouble?" She giggles and crawls off her dad to run off and converse with you. Eddie sighs, but is still smiling. His little girl was always so happy to see you and that should have been enough proof for him to make the leap. However, the last time he let his heart out to a girl, she left, and refused to be a part of the child's life. He should know you better than that but he worries. He needs a sign and maybe it'll come soon enough.

"Vi!" He calls out to her, "It's night-night time!"

Little did this family know there were forces, darker than light at work in his favor. Their life would change forever.

TAGLIST:

@yaspillz @dahliamae @munsonloverblog @off-phelia @strangerthingsstories5255 @fujiihime @puppy-coded @damon-loves-pie @seratoninsickness @k0urti @thatlonelypieceoftoast @phantomxoxo @wittlewowa @rollergirlworldwide @allithewriter @gothguitargal @eddiemunsons-missingnipple @ali-r3n @harrys-tittie @yearwalker96 @lipglossanon @thepastdied @jessevans @dullsocietyy @littlelimb @ghosttownwherenoonegoes @3rriberri

I will continue the story if it is enjoyed and people want to see more.

[man-down-in-hatchet-town]

Ani: A Parody and the Radical Act of Recovery

Okay, so let’s talk about Ani, and why I love it. It’s not my favorite Starkid show (look, they can’t all be), but the older I get the more precious it becomes to me. And I think that's because of the way it handles failure, damage, and healing.

Ani is of course about the villains, but in some cases it's specifically about those who are the villains of their own story. It's about the losers, the characters maligned for years for being too cringe or pathetic, the ones who self-sabotaged their way out of all success and potential they once held. Even Tarkin, who in A New Hope was a pretty cool and collected guy, is an awkward mess in this version of the story. In different ways and to different degrees, Ani, JJ, and Jeffrey (looking purely at his relationship with Emily here) all start from a place of hopelessness, a nest of despair they each built for themselves despite having once been at the top of the world (for Jeffrey, that would be holding a position of power inside the Empire that could easily impress Emily).

And they're also founding members of the Empire. The creation of the Empire went hand-in-hand with Ani's worst moments and JJ's worst instincts. Really, if you want to get symbolic about it, the whole damn system is a representation of those two characters' failures and traumas. Without even really realizing it, Ani's cast spend their entire lives drowning in a manifestation of their worst selves and mistakes. And whether they are able to put it into words or not, it's clearly not working out for them.

To borrow from Black Friday, the characters' psyches are riddled by holes caused by the decisions they made within the lives they lead. The idea of these "holes" is of course not unique to Ani. Characters having unmet wants and needs is a vital component to storytelling. But Ani stands apart from other Starkid shows because its protagonists start in a place of dreamless failure, where they have already fallen so completely from grace, and dare to dream anyway. Despite all reason and learned helplessness, Ani gets back in that podracer. He chooses to believe that the holes can still be patched.

Obviously, we aren't villains like Ani Skywalker (I mean, I guess I can't speak for you guys, but I hope that's the case). But Ani is nonetheless a show about potential that has already been lost, an adult life that has already and irrevocably become something different and worse than dreamed of years ago. And that's... what life is. At least when you're like me (and at the time of writing Ani, that's what the Langs and Brian were), and just trying to survive your late twenties in an unsteady industry fueled by latent dreams but swamped by late-stage capitalism (hahahaha the arts). And I think it's probably true for people in other paths as well. Unless you're very lucky, growing up contains that moment where your life turns from something you will get to live into something that you are currently enduring until it can be fixed, if such a thing is even possible. Can you recover from this fall? Are you your hero or your nemesis? Did you make the wrong choices? Are your weaknesses and failures going to be what defines you in the end, drowning out all that promise and hope you felt in your youth?

Black Friday says "Probably. All you can do under this system is learn to see the holes, accept them, and stop them from making you worse."

Ani says "No. It doesn't matter how fiercely you burned out. It's never too late to heal." More than lost potential, it is a show about recovery as a radical but ever-possible action, about re-learning to get Back of Top once more no matter the obstacles.

And I think both answers are important.

[moonleeai]

Namaste Collab: Teri Hasee Ka Noor 

Title : Teri Hasee Ka Noor 

Pairing : Hoseok x female reader 

Word Count: 13.8k

City/State : Kashmir / Goa 

Timeline : February / March

Rating : Mature 18+ 

Genre : travel au, friends to lovers, fluff, baby angst, SMUT 

Warnings: unprotected sex, slow burn, explicit language

Summary : Hoseok takes best friend duties seriously and makes it his mission to cure your winter blues. He intends well by surprising you with a tropical vacation but it starts off colder than anticipated. Hoseok fixes his mistake in time for the hot weather to stir something in both of you, but will his flirty nature hinder the flame? 

AN: The meaning of the title is “the radiance of your smile/laugh”. Thank you Baby Queen Jiya @btsstan12 (ao3) for the beautiful banner. It’s so much more than I expected and I love love love it as much as I love love love you.

A huge shout out to Jasz @downbad4yoongi, Sara, and Kari for beta reading this and helping me so so much! xoxo

Special thanks to @sugarwithtea , @btsstan12 (ao3) and @apotatomashedbybts for having me in your desi BTS fanfic collaboration! It was so fun learning about India! I hope you like my take on it ☺

Read More Stories here: Namaste Collab Masterlist

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Work. Eat. Sleep. Repeat. 

Life is so boring sometimes. The highlight of your month was buying a cordless vacuum for your newly renovated hardwood floors—adult things. You love your job as a dance director at your best friend Hoseok’s dance academy. He keeps the days entertaining, but you’re tired of repeating the days in the same ways. Today, after teaching the last class of college dance majors, you helped Hoseok do the nightly cleaning of the studio. He blasts hip-hop music and moves rhythmically around while sweeping, and you wipe down the mirrors, watching how his body flows to the beat like a graceful bird gliding in the wind. He glances over and catches you staring, you quickly look away and grumble.

“Hurry up, Seok. I wanna go home.”

“For what? It’s not like you have plans!” 

He wasn’t wrong. Your best friend of a few years knew exactly what you were going to do tonight. Nothing; your favorite thing. He used to get offended when you wouldn’t come out to clubs but quickly realized you just enjoyed the comfort of being home. Once he learned that about you, he started inviting himself to your place instead.

Hoseok is a man of many talents, but he’s most known for dance and his ability to choreograph and practice until perfection, spotting any slight flaws in a millisecond. The hottest dancer there is, was, and will ever be. His presence is a force known as J. Hope or Jay, his stage name. Hoseok is an above-average gentleman, J. Hope is the motivator everyone needs at the end of an exhausting practice, and Jay– well, he’s the performer with the sultriest moves.

The next song comes on, and you both pull your faces into surprised expressions. The song-- Troy Sivan’s “Youth”-- was one of your favorite duo choreos from back in the day. Quickly, you both jump into place and begin the dance from muscle memory. This time though, you two are a little too close, and Hoseok decides to improvise; instead of grabbing your hand at the end, he pulls your wrist up, raising your arm above your head, making you spin, and your back firmly presses into his torso. He places his chin on your shoulder and wraps his arms around your waist, swaying your bodies together. You can feel your temperature rising, and the need to melt into his hold almost takes over. 

“Ahh…I love this dance!” Hoseok nearly screams in your ear, forcing you to pull away, hand over your ear. He laughs and goes back to cleaning while you’re glad to have a reason to walk away. Hoseok is a very touchy-feely friend, and it never bothered you until recently. During the holidays, you were both single and spent too much time together. Too much because now... now you think you’re falling for him. 

You both like the same music, the same movies, and you both love to dance. So many of the holiday nights turned into spontaneous dance battles or deep conversations about those things you equally enjoyed. His laugh was beginning to be your favorite sound, like poetry in pretty handwriting. Every giggle and smile from him filled your soul with something you couldn’t pinpoint.

You finish the mirrors and watch him two-step to the trash can. He glances over as if he can feel your eyes on him and gives his charming smile. The smile that drew you in and made you crave his friendship. He embodies comfort, like the feeling of a favorite oversized sweater on a cold day, wrapping you in warmth.

“Let’s stay here and dance.”

“No, Seok. I’m hungry.”

“We can order takeout.” He walks over and reaches for your hand, but you pull away, knowing you’d give in to whatever he wanted once the slightest spark ignited your bones from his touch. 

“Let’s go to my place… it’s close; we can grab food and move the couch to dance. Plus, I have all the alcohol.” 

Hoseok watches you, amused by all the layers of clothing you put on as if you’re preparing for a snowpocalypse and your strawberry lip balm. He knows you are a tropical person at heart, and every winter, you believe it just may be your last. Your beach-loving, sun-soaking spirit is having the most challenging time battling winter blues this year, and Hoseok is going to fix that. He’s been planning something and intends to tell you tonight. Only if you would give him the time to do so; he’s been dying to say something but hasn’t found the right time all night, and now you’re rushing to get home. 

“Why aren’t you getting dressed?”

“Oh, I was just…lost in thought.” He throws a midweight jacket on, “Let’s go!”

“At least put this beanie on, Seok! You’re going to get sick one of these days!” A hint of a smile plays on his lips as he gently takes the hat and turns away from you to hide his flushed cheeks. He’s always faintly enjoyed you taking care of him. 

After grabbing food and arriving at your apartment, you hurriedly remove your shoes, rush over to your freestanding electric fireplace, and turn it on. Hoseok, still at the door hanging his jacket, tells you to throw your jackets over to be hung. Then you both sit at your coffee table in front of the fire to eat. 

“So, I’ve been wanting to tell you some news.”

“What news?” 

“I’m going to close the academy for a week and go on vacation.”

“Va–? What! To where? When?!”

He stifles a grin and tots his tongue over his teeth, “India.”

“In–! Are you serious right now? By yourself?”

“Well…no. I bought two tickets and have everything planned out. A week in a tropical place–”

“Jeong Hoseok! Who are you going with?”

“I was hoping… you?” The last word comes out so soft and shy you almost miss it.

“You’re serious?” Hoseok nods his head yes to your question. “O–Okay! Yeah! I’ll go!” 

Cutely, his shoulders rise as he half states and half questions, “Soooo… we’re… going to India?” 

“We’re going to India!” I could kiss you right now!

But you don’t; you settle for a tight embrace and huge smiles before you both return to eating. After a few beats of awkward silence, you’re looking up pictures showing each other beaches and cabanas. The excitement is too much to hold in, and you both surrender to fits of giggles. Hoseok throws his body into your lap and you’re enchanted by his comfortable sound. 

☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺

On the plane, you sit back and get cozy in the oversized seat. Thankfully Hoseok splurged a little for business class. The dijon yellow cushions and extra pillows make it feel like you’re sitting on the couch in the tranquility of your home. 

Achoo! You look up in disgust as you were just sprayed unexpectedly. A child in front of you stands in their seat, looking at you. Snot running from their nose is enough to tell you they probably have a cold but– achoo!-- the menace is sneezing directly at you. You swat at the air to rid your space of the germs and scrunch your nose at the kid, making them turn around in their seat. 

“Let’s look up the places and try to plan what to see and what to do before you lay this kid out,” Hoseok says, pulling the reservation up on his phone.

“More than the beach?” You laugh because that’s all you want to do. Sit in the sand and sun, letting your body absorb enough heat that might keep you content until summer arrives.

“Well… I saw a boat ride on Dal Lake. The boats are pretty, and yes, the beach, of course.” He shows you a screenshot that he took of a row of wooden boats painted in pastel colors with vibrant cushions. The boats are beautifully resting on a still body of water, but the background catches your attention. There are snow-capped mountains exquisitely reflected in the lake. Snow-capped. Snow.

“Seok, when was this picture taken?”

“Mmm, I just got it off the internet.”

You connect your phone to the Wi-Fi and ask for the resort’s name.  

“Well, it’s two hotels because the package is split into like a north and west tour. Gulmarg and Goa. It was rated pretty high.” He pulls up the reservation and shows you the booking. You type in the first name.

“Hmm... How do you spell the city?” The first picture that came up showed a building with a snow-covered roof.

Hoseok spells it out as you slowly type in the name along with ‘things to do’ and choose the first option. You notice a few pictures with snow again.

“Seok. Did you happen to check the weather for this time of year?”

“What? No. It’s India. Isn’t it always hot?” You both stare at each other. As quick as uncertainty weighed on your chest, his candied hazelnut eyes swept it away, sweet and syrupy, glazing over any discomfort. 

“Let me see the reservation again.” Kolahoi Green Resort, Gulmarg. A luxury resort is nestled near India’s most popular spot for skiing. Skiing. I can’t strangle him on the plane. Reading on, you also see he’s booked a honeymoon package, whatever that means. You close your eyes and take a deep breath. “Seok…maybe you should read the whole resort description.” You tilt his phone toward him and hold your finger under ‘skiing’ and ‘honeymoon’.

His expression turns into a panic. Eyes wide, he covers his mouth with his hand. 

“I am so sorry. I swear I booked the beach package! I saw honeymoon packages, but I didn’t think I chose that one. I was only looking at the differences in price.”

You pull the phone back and start reading the entire reservation. There is, in fact, a beach for four days, but only after the one by the ski lodge for three days. Three days in the cold, which you just left. To say all excitement has left your body is an understatement. You immediately begin thinking about the lack of clothes you packed. Your suitcase is full of cute sundresses, tank tops, and shorts. You don’t even remember packing jeans. Luckily, there are the sweatpants and hoodie you’re wearing on the plane. Maybe, just maybe, it’s warmer now. You look up the weather in hopes of quelling your thoughts. 

“Seok, I don’t know if I have enough warm clothes for three days in the cold. The temperature is like 11 to 15 degrees Celsius. I– I only packed dresses and–” 

“I’m sure we can buy some clothes somewhere. You can also wear some of mine; you know I overpacked hoodies and sweats.” He goes into compassion mode, a voice of reason. There’s always a solution to a problem; he does just that as you both continue talking. His voice is a soothing palette of neutral tones, easing you into solace. 

“Yeah.” You turn and stare out the window with your hands tucked under your thighs. Hoseok can feel how disappointed you are and will spend these hopefully not-too-cold days doing whatever he can to see you smile. 

☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺

The resort is pretty. Not your cup of tea with the patches of snow still covering the surrounding property, but you can kind of see the appeal. The receptionist gives some information on the area and informs you that it’s the last weekend for skiing since it’s warming up. 

Warming up. Ha! Skiing is the last thing on your mind, but Hoseok’s body wiggles, and his face lights up. When he turns to look at you, you return a small smile, feeling your cheeks heating up. As the receptionist hands over the key card, they congratulate you with best wishes, and you both walk away confused. 

“What was that about?”

“No idea,” he rushes through those words to get to the next subject, “but would you want to snowboard tomorrow? The sign says they rent out everything, even snow gear.”

“Seok.” You press the button on the elevator, and the doors open instantly.

“Please! I promise I will do whatever you want if you do this with me!” Hoseok begs as the elevator ascends to your floor.

“I literally want to stay in a warm room the entire three days.”

“No way! The lake boat ride is here.” 

“Okay. Then I want to be inside for the rest of the time.” You joke, waiting for him to open the door.

Hoseok scans the room key and holds the door open for you. You walk through and see pretty decorations. Gold balloon letters spelling ‘congratulations,’ flower petals leading to, as well as covering, the bed in a heart shape. The four-post bed has a canopy with sheer white linen cascading down, surrounded by fairy lights, illuminating a tray with a champagne bottle in an ice bucket and two glass flutes. 

There’s only one bed.

Across from the bed is a large two-seater sofa in front of a gas fireplace. You walk further inside with Hoseok on your heels, following the flower petals that continue through sliding doors into a spa-like bathroom. Flameless tea lights and votives of various sizes cover every possible surface area. While everything is beautiful, you’re both still confused.

“What in the world?” 

“Do you think they gave us the wrong room?”

You both walk back to the bedroom and find a card on the small table. You pick it up and read it aloud, “Congratulations, newlyweds. Best wishes from the Staff at Kolahi.”

Hoseok finds another note. “Look at this! It’s not a mistake. It has our names and ‘please call when you’re ready for your complimentary desserts.”

“You did book the honeymoon package, Hoseok!” You start laughing because, honestly, what else can go wrong?

Hoseok submerses in your laugh. He’s been worried, but now a warm tingle is stirring inside him, and his heart beats faster. He watches as you go back to the bathroom.

“Ah! It’s a jacuzzi! We have our own hot tub! I want to use this right now!”

Hoseok freezes at the words. A hot tub… in the room… where you both have to sleep… for three days. The beach is a vast open space, so being in a bikini among a sea of others is no big deal… but you’ll be wearing one so incredibly close. Intimately close. The blur of you walking by brings him back to the present.

He clears his throat as you walk to your suitcase, “Don’t you want to explore the area first? See what all is out there?” 

“Oh. True. Yeah, let’s do that. We can use the jacuzzi to end the day. I could use a nap, too.” 

“No naps. We have to get on this timezone. Come on! We’ll unpack later; let’s go look around.”

Down in the lobby, you sit on a loveseat in front of the fireplace while Hoseok talks to the receptionist. You pull out your phone and check to see how far the lake is that Hoseok is dead set on. It’s two hours away and all the way back by the airport. You close your eyes and let out a deep breath, frustrated by the lack of planning. When you open them again, you see an activities book on a table next to you. You pick it up and start browsing through the pages. 

There’s a gondola ride, shrine, temple, and three restaurants. Anything indoors sounds excellent. One of the restaurants is a glass igloo, and you immediately look for Hoseok to tell him, knowing he will love it.

He comes up beside you, and you flash the page so he can see the igloo. 

“I was just about to tell you about that!” He plops down next to you, showing some notes he took on his phone from the receptionist. Pretty much everything in the book you’re holding. “They said the gondola is beautiful at sunset, so we could do that first. Then come back to eat–”

“Then jacuzzi!” You shriek, too excited for a night of relaxation.

Hoseok looks at you, baring a tight-lipped grin; your eyes trace the lines ending in dimples, then float to the mole on his upper lip. He unexpectedly jumps up, pulling you both from a haze and holds his hand out for you. You take it and make your way to the gondola.

Staring at the cables disappearing into the distance, you remember Hoseok’s fear of heights. 

“Are you going to be able to do this?”

“Yeah, I should be okay.”

You both continue following the small crowd and chatting. You were cold at first, but the constant conversation has seemingly kept you warm by occupying your mind. Or maybe it’s his presence. 

Closer to the front, you can see that the ride is in two parts–ten minutes to the first stop and then twelve to the last. The gondola fits six, but with the small number of attendees, you get a cable car to yourself. You sit across each other and observe the surroundings as it ascends the mountainside. 

“I feel so dumb.” Hoseok sighs after the statement.

“What? Why?” you ask while sliding your lip balm over your lips. Hoseok watches and notices the way your lips shine afterward.

“For one, not checking the weather. And two, I had no idea there were huge mountains here!”

“Well, if it makes you feel better, I didn’t know either. Now we do.” You offer a smile, plumping your cheeks into two small plums. Hoseok melts into the seat, responds with a simple grin, and gazes back out the window. 

You pass over pine trees and snow-submerged valleys. You stay on, opting not to get off at the first stop, and before you know it, you’re at the peak. You would’ve never known Hoseok was afraid of heights, at least on the outside. A frigid breeze slices across your bare face when you step off the gondola. Your body quakes as you follow people to a scenic point. 

The setting sun plays peek-a-boo with the fluffy clouds, displaying pastel colors across the sky and a fiery glow on top of the mountains. Hoseok asks you to take fun photos of him, and you laugh while getting every angle possible. A lovely couple offers to take a picture of both of you, and you return the favor for them. 

After a few more steps along the mountain’s edge, Hoseok grabs your wrist and starts jogging, “I’m done! It’s so cold!” You giggle, keeping up with him, and breathlessly throw yourselves back into a gondola. This time he sits next to you. When the door shuts, and the cable car begins descending, he wraps his arms around you. He wiggles and gets as close as possible, pulling you into him and placing his chin on your shoulder.

“Thank you for doing this; let’s warm up.” His warm breath strikes your neck, and a kaleidoscope of warmth ignites in your stomach. You rest your head against his and take a deep, shaky breath. That’s how you remain the entire ride down, quietly wrapped in each other as the light disappears from the sky. You’re tempted to ask what’s on his mind, but you also don’t want to read too much into his actions. He’s always been touchy in a friendly way, and you don’t want to ruin it.

After dinner, you walk back to the suite and discuss the delicious food. You can’t help but think about how great the hot water in the jacuzzi will feel. In the suite, you open your suitcase and pull out toiletries, pajamas, and bathing suits. You start to feel shy about the itty bitty fabric barely covering your ass. Hoseok watches you as your eyes flit from one to the other, then calls the receptionist to deliver the complimentary dessert, and then goes to turn on the water. 

He comes back out with a robe for you as there’s a knock on the door. He gets the delivery and places it on the tray on the bed. You both marvel over the creative mithai charcuterie board; various ladoos, plain and chocolate-covered strawberries, sweet boondi, and kaju katli. After Hoseok takes a million pictures, he carries the tray of dessert and champagne into the bathroom and puts it on the shelf by the jacuzzi.

Coming back for the glasses, he mentions, “I’ll change in the bathroom. Take your time.” He closes the doors behind him, and you change before pulling the robe over your bikini. When you open the doors, he’s already in the water with the jets on full blast.

You stand at the edge of the jacuzzi, “Would you, maybe, close your eyes?” You chuckle before continuing, “This feels a little awkward.” He turns his head from you and closes his eyes with a massive grin. You drop the robe and quickly get in, sinking until the water is at your clavicle. “Okay. You can be normal again.”

Hoseok sits up, fills the champagne glasses and hands you one. “A toast to our buddymoon!��� 

You roll your eyes but still laugh, “You’re so corny.” You both clink your glasses and take a sip. “Did you try any of the desserts yet?”

“No. I wanted to wait for you. Do you want me to hold the tray in front of you?”

“Oh, uh, no. It’s okay. Will you hand me one of the diamond thingies?”

“According to the little guide, that is kaju katli: cashews, sugar, cardamom, and ghee.” You reach for it, but he’s already bringing it to your lips. As you open your mouth and let the sweetness hit your tongue, your lips graze his fingers, and your eyes briefly meet before looking away. He grabs one for himself and rests back against the basin. 

After some time, you’re on your last glasses, having finished the bottle, and feeling relaxed. You both have been chipping away at the dessert and reveling in all the deliciousness. 

Deciding it’s been enough time in the jacuzzi, Hoseok stands, and you notice how his shorts cling to his thigh muscles; he pulls at the fabric, easing the clinging fabric away from his groin. He steps out, drying off haphazardly, and walks to the bedroom, closing the door behind him again. You get out and dry off before donning the robe back on to join him. Standing at the minifridge, he pulls out a bottle of rosé, but all you can see is his waistband resting low across his hips, dangerously low, exposing a faint happy trail under his belly button. The dips and hills are graciously defined on his stomach, and you feel a warmth overtake your body. You raise your hand to your cheek in hopes of hiding the flush. 

“Are you drunk already?” Hoseok teases.

“No! It’s just… hot.” You roll your eyes and motion toward the new bottle, “Where’d that come from?”

“It was in the fridge. Strawberry time!” He places the wine by the fireplace sofa and returns to the jacuzzi to get the fruit. You can’t help but smile at his excitement and the little noises he makes with every step to and from the bathroom. He motions for you to sit, pours the drink, and hands you a glass. You both reach for the same strawberry from the tray and then giggle at the chances. He grabs it, reaches toward your mouth, and watches intently as your lips wrap around the heart-shaped fruit forming a perfect pouty circle. You can’t unsee his tongue slowly swiping across his bottom lip as his eyes glaze over, trapping your attention like a mosquito in amber sap. You remember to chew when his eyes break from yours and roam down your slightly open robe. You reach for the neckline to close it, and he turns away, grabbing a strawberry for himself before sliding against the back of the sofa. “You’re right… it’s really warm in here.”

You clear your throat, eyes on the flames. “So…one bed. Looks like we’re going to be pretty close.”

“Yeah. It’ll be nice to have something to keep me warm tonight.”

The night ends with bellies full of wine and dessert and happily planning the next day of adventure. You have absolutely no desire to snowboard, but Hoseok’s sunshine smile and light laughter seep into your heart. You want nothing more than to continue seeing his smile and hearing his laugh. 

In the bed, you both lie facing the ceiling like statues when he breaks the silence. “Can we like… cuddle?”

You snicker at first, but the idea of it sounds lovely. “Sure, why not.”

Hoseok falls asleep quickly with his arms and legs wrapped around and over you, while you lay there, calming your racing heart in his grasp. 

☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺

Slightly waking, you adjust your body, rolling on your side as something rigid grazes your hip, eliciting a hiss from Hoseok. “Shit! Sorry, Seok!” Startled, you sit up and fling your legs over the bedside, jolting yourself awake. 

“You didn’t have to jump away. It just–”

“No, no. I should get up anyway. Snowboarding, right? Let me start getting ready.

Ignoring everything that happened, you both take turns in the bathroom to get ready and head to the lobby area. First, you stop in the gift shop and buy matching ‘I love Kashmir’ long-sleeve t-shirts to go under your hoodies, then proceed to the rental shop. You’re not thrilled while standing in line, dreading the cold and the effort and energy snowboarding takes, but your soul is soaking in the radiant smile coming from Hoseok. 

To add more dread, you had hoped to look at least cute while being drained of all excitement, but the shop has the hottest trends from the 1990s in snow bibs, boots, and boards. You settle for the rose brown and black gear and a snowboard with a pale purple bottom. Hoseok, on the other hand, chose to pair the ugliest of every color together and call it ‘fashion.’ You won’t lose him in the crowd.

A few passes on the bunny slope, and you’re as ready as you’ll ever be. As you both glide over the lift, you look for the signage that informs riders which slopes are the easiest to hardest—usually, a color scale. Here, there are only signs stating zones one through four.

“How do we know where to get off?” you ask while staring, puzzled at the signs. 

“Beginner slopes are always the first stop, I think.”

“Seok! I need facts, not guesses. Didn’t the brochure say the locals use the first one to get around to other villages?” Hoseok shrugs and continues with the flow of the line. When you reach the front of the line, Hoseok asks the operator where to get off and they confirm ‘one.’ 

“I guess it’ll be a surprise.” Your nerves are a wreck, and as much as you want to have fun, for Hoseok’s sake, you can’t get into the right mindset. 

You both get off at the first stop and glide down the path to make way for others behind you when you quickly realize this slope is not for you. It’s not steep, but the rivets and snow conditions make it least favorable for a novice like yourself. 

Hoseok yells that he’ll meet you at the bottom, and you watch as he gracefully swoops across the mountain slope. You watch a woman wearing neon teal pants drift delicately right behind him. How you wish that were you. 

You ride on your heels the first bit, destroying your thigh muscles like lava is coursing through the veins. You glide to the side, out of the main path, and fall on your butt to take a break. Watching people pass by, even kids, you curse under your breath and hold back tears of frustration. A pep talk would be nice, but the one best at those just left you to your demise. 

A few deep breaths, and one too many children passing you, gives you very little motivation but enough to hop back up and continue down the slope. Your thighs are on fire, but you alleviate the pain by using other muscles, which also gives more speed-- speed you don’t want. You panic and tense up, causing you to dig your toes too far into the snow, making the edge catch, and you brace for impact. You hit the ground face first, so hard your body goes into a forward roll; your goggles rip off as your head clashes with the firm snow, and all air expels from your lungs. 

Hoseok yells your name a few times from behind and stops next to you frantically. 

“Are you o– is there– are you hurt?!”

You take a few short breaths to test your lungs for proper functionality. Quietly you let out, “No but– that hurt. So fucking bad!” Then tears begin to prickle, and emotions are ready to boil over, “I’m done! I didn’t come here to be freezing my ass off in the snow or to be bundled up like this!” You break down into the ugliest of cries while your shoulders bounce up and down from the force of your sobs. “I wanna go back to the rooooooom,” you whine while sniveling.

You look at Hoseok through hazy eyes, but his face turns away from you. He is likely holding back a giggle in hopes of not upsetting you more. He clears his throat and faces you with a gentle smile and twinkle in his eyes. It soothes you enough that tears stop falling, and you begin to feel warm. Hoseok pats your head and uses his glove to wipe your face, then rests his hand on yours.

“Let’s take the boards off and walk down. I’ll get you some spiked hot chocolate.” You nod your head, and he unclasps your bindings first. 

Walking down the mountain silently makes you feel bad for what you said. 

At the bottom, you prop the boards in the holding area when the woman in neon pants appears. You watch as a scene from a drama unfolds, and before you know it, Hoseok is walking with her as they flirt back and forth. Your eyes dance between the two, noticing how smiley they are. You feel like an outsider. Your hand is balled tightly by your side, and when you can’t stand the pain of your nails digging into your palm any longer, you shake it off and walk past them into the lodge. 

You order your drink and find a table to sit at. Jealousy has reared its ugly head, and you’re fighting with yourself. You shouldn’t feel this way. You can’t feel this way for your best friend. You take a sip and let the alcohol flush the jealousy down into the pit of your stomach. 

Hoseok finds you and sits beside you with his body angled toward you. “Here you are. Why’d you leave?”

“If you want to keep riding, go ahead. I don’t want to make you miserable.” 

He reaches up and places both hands on the sides of your cheeks. His thumbs swoop under your eyes, wiping the last remnants of tears. “I promise you. I’m having a great time.” 

Radiant. His warm touch and kind words weave into your soul alongside the space occupied by his smile and laugh. Serene. Your body relaxes in the window seat and immediately feels every ache and pain from your tumble. You roll your neck around and pause in the areas that need more stretching. 

“Do you want to get a massage?” He pulls out his phone, “I’m pretty sure I saw one here.”

“No, no. A good stretch and maybe the jacuzzi will be enough.” You both stare out the window at the snow-covered nature. Taking a gulp of courage, you say, “Sorry, Seok. What I said on the slope was mean, rude, and uncalled for.”

“Would you stop that? I had fun, now let’s do something you want. You wanna get in the jacuzzi then order in for dinner?” Hoseok notices how your eyes light up like a candle at the mention of food.

“Yes! Let’s get different dishes to try new stuff. Chicken and beef, maybe?” Now it’s your turn to pull out your phone and find the room service menu you took pictures of. “Oh, look, lamb! Butter chicken and lamb biryani? Or maybe curry? Oh! Hummus! And garlic naan! What?! There’s so much!” 

“I love how excited you get over food.” He chuckles, “I’ll look up pictures, and if it looks good, we get it.” 

You replay his words in your mind. Love. How did he mean that? Does he feel something like you? Or was it more of a friendly love? You glance his way, eyes soaking in his profile. You must’ve stared a little too long because he meets your gaze. Your eyes flit to his heart-shaped lips, and you can’t help but wonder if they feel as pillowy as they look. 

“You okay?” His voice forces you to finally blink and look down at his phone.

“Yeah. This set looks good.” You point to a picture, and he takes a look. 

“Okay. It’s settled. I’ll order while you’re getting blasted by the jets.”

Finished with your drinks, you return all the snow gear to the rental shop and head to the suite. Hoseok runs the water for you and turns on some of the flameless tea lights. He sets his phone in the corner, plays a Lofi Bollywood playlist, shuts off the light fixture, and walks out. You carry your bathing suit into the bathroom and close the door. 

Hoseok lies on the couch, closes his eyes, and surrenders to the sound of the jets and soft music. He imagines the bubbles around your collarbones; your eyes closed, body relaxed. A throb sends a jolt through his stomach, but he places a hand on his groin and adjusts to calm himself down. You call for him, and his body freezes, lifting his head to ensure you’re not standing there.

“Come join me. I’m bored, and this music is so relaxing. I think you’ll enjoy it too.”

“I can hear it out here.”

“Please?” 

There’s a flutter in his chest, and he’s changing to join you.

You smile at him as he walks through the threshold and close your eyes when he enters the basin. You both don’t say a word but enjoy every second of your closeness. The water feels electrified as you chat away.

Later, with bodies relaxed and bellies full, Hoseok pulls you into a hug on the couch. 

“I hope you’re having an okay time. I’m excited to see all the cute dresses you packed for the beach tomorrow.”

“Any time spent with you is a great time, Seokie. Thanks for bringing me. I promise not to throw any more tantrums,” you chuckle at the last word and pinch his ribs in an effort to break away.

“Hey!” He laughs and smacks you with a pillow. “Wanna finish the night watching the sunset from the balcony? Then a nightcap by the fire?”

“Sounds perfect.” 

You couldn’t think of any other way you’d love to spend the evening. Well, maybe cuddling again, but for now, sunset and a drink with your best friend, who you adore, and possibly more, sounds like a truly perfect night.

☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺

A few hours later, Hoseok wakes to vibrations in the bed and discovers you shivering. He pulls the quilt up to your neck and wraps his limbs around you before feeling that you are soaked. He sits up, trying to see anything in the pitch black, getting his eyes to focus on you. He swipes his hand across your forehead and gasps at the heat that comes off you. He briskly walks to the bathroom, turns the light on low, then kneels by your bedside to better understand what’s happening. You whine as he tries to wake you. 

He calls your name softly while rubbing a hand down your back, “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“S–so cold,” you mutter as he watches sweat bead on your forehead. 

“I’m gonna go get you medicine. Drink some of this water for now.” He helps sit you up against some pillows and slowly guides the water bottle to your lips. After a few sips, he hurries out of the room and to the lobby mini-mart in hopes of getting you something to aid in breaking your fever. 

When he comes back into the room with two rustling bags, you look at his hands bewildered. He unpacks an array onto your side table: ginger tea, bananas, children’s applesauce squeeze bags, chicken noodle soup, a box of jello, orange juice, and Gatorade. 

“I thought you were getting medicine?”

“I mean, these are the natural way, right? But I have more.” He grabs the second bag and unpacks a variety of cold medicine in liquid and pill forms.

“Seok! What–” Your head pounds at your words, and you close your eyes as if that will stop it. You take a deep breath, open your eyes and turn toward the side table. You reach for the box of jello and scoff, “How were you going to make this?”

“Hmm…not sure, but I will figure it out if you want it.” He grabs the box from you and starts reading the directions.

“Seok, I probably just have a cold from that kid sneezing on me. A fever at most; I’m not puking.”

“Right! Um…tea? Soup?”

“How about medicine and a cool rag so I can go back to sleep?” You smile at his thoughtfulness, but keeping your eyes open becomes more difficult. 

Hoseok opens the medicine, opting for a liquid form, and brings it to your lips to drink. Then he grabs a cool cloth for you, places it over your forehead, and gently rubs his hand over your hair. You scoot down to lie comfortably and begin to relax again. You hear Hoseok rustling around, turning off lights, and getting changed for bed again. He snuggles up close to you, wrapping you in his hold. You can feel yourself drifting into dreamland when his hushed voice brushes the side of your neck.

“I went overboard, huh?”

“I didn’t expect anything less from my Seokie,” you whisper. He warms at your words and buries himself further into you. Even with a fever, you could still feel his radiance healing you deep inside.

Sometime in the twilight hours, Hoseok woke again, but this time you were talking…or more like mumbling. He raised his head and blinked heavily several times to ward off the grogginess. 

“I like your lips.” He heard you say softly. 

“Hm?” he asked quietly. 

“Heart-shaped clouds. Pretty clouds.” He grinned, feeling a kaleidoscope swarm in his belly, then leaned into you and kissed your cheek. He watched as a smile swept across your lips and thought you looked like an angel, fast asleep.

☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺

The next morning you feel like a brand new person. You stretch and realize Hoseok isn’t next to you. You sit up, and just as you’re about to call for him, he walks in with a beaming smile and a mug of ginger tea. He hands it to you as you make room for him to sit. 

“Thank you.”

“Of course. How are you feeling?”

“So much better! I’m glad it was just overnight. We have so much more to see!”

Hoseok clears his throat and looks toward the ground, “Do you happen to remember what you dreamt about last night?”

“Dream?” You think for a few seconds, “I don’t think I had any,” you lie, bringing the mug to your mouth. You did remember. However, you weren’t going to tell him you dreamt of his lips, soft and pillowy, pressed against yours. Or how his hands felt like heaven as they rested on your waist while his tongue moved slowly over yours. A heat was creeping up your neck from the recollection. 

“None at all?”

“Nope. Why?”

“No reason. I just thought I heard you say something in your sleep.” Hoseok snickers and hops off the bed.

“What? What did I say?” 

Hoseok sing-songs from the other room, “Just nonsense.”

☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺

Today was a smidge warmer than the others, and for that, you were thankful because Hoseok was still dead set on taking a shikara ride on Dal Lake. With your suitcases in the trunk, the taxi made its way to Srinagar. You asked the driver about the weather and how cold it may be on the lake. He reassured you the boatmen would have blankets to help keep you warm. 

When you arrived, the scenic view took your breath away. The snow-capped mountains staggered along the horizon against an unblemished blue sky, towering over their reflection on the lake. Your suitcases were taken to a houseboat for courtesy storage, and you both set foot on the shikara—a beautiful wooden yellow boat with a half-bed on one side and a bench on the other. The cushion is covered in red velvet with a black floral print, and the boat’s roof has vibrant blue curtains draping down but drawn back elegantly so you can see the scenery. As you get comfortable among the cushions, the man hands you a rich red and gold-toned blanket. 

The man rows and speaks, “Welcome to the second-largest lake in the Kashmir valley. We call it the ‘Jewel in the crown of Kashmir’.”

“May I ask why?” you question.

“Well, not only is it an important source of fishing and water plant harvesting, but it’s also a beautiful, tranquil piece of nature. It sits against the backdrop of the gorgeous Himalayas.”

He continued to explain that people live in the houseboats lined along the bank. How the lake was usually bustling in the warmer months with floating markets and locals selling food and drinks. A few were working, but it wasn’t worth it without many tourists. He rowed to a houseboat with a shop where you bought hot tea and then navigated to a souvenir market where you bought a few trinkets for memories.

The guide continued his journey around the lake while you and Hoseok snapped pictures and awed at the beauty over and over. With the Himalayas in the background, the guide slows the boat to a stop and gestures toward a chest full of garments, traditional Kashmiri attire with authentic accessories. 

“Would you like to put some on for a picture?”

“Oh! Um it’s–” you begin, but the guide cuts you off.

“Honeymoon package, yes?” You and Hoseok look at each other and smile.

“Right…yes.” You reach for a magenta ghunghat with a gold embroidered border and drape it over your head, “Like this?”

“Yes, yes. Beautiful.” The guide takes a few shots at different angles and then commands, “Now kiss.”

“I’m sorry?!” You both bark but with smiles.

“Newlywed pose! You must kiss with this background.” The man gestures his hand around, emphasizing the beautiful scenery.

While he’s right about the scenery, you can’t help but wonder if he would be offended if you said there was a mistake. You’re not really newlyweds. You turn toward Hoseok, who is already grinning from ear to ear. Hoseok giggles and you can feel your body flush, even in the cold air. 

“It’s just a kiss,” Hoseok says calmly. The way the words and your name flow from his mouth is music to your ears. They float around your head and cause a dizzy spell as his lips creep toward yours. The subtle touch of his lips sends you into a freefall from the top of the mountain. Your heart shivers as he ignites a flame, thawing winter and bringing spring to life. 

The guide clears his throat, and Hoseok pulls away first. Just a kiss that has now set a fire within your heart. 

☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺

There was mostly small talk from Dal Lake to the airport and even less on the plane to Goa. You didn’t want to talk about your feelings, especially with the one who ignited them and probably didn’t feel the same. 

You watched episode after episode but had no idea what the story was because you were playing the kiss repeatedly in your mind. You tried to nap but were restless from the lingering tingle of that moment. Hoseok, on the other hand, was sound asleep. One more reason you knew he didn’t feel anything. 

Hoseok faked being asleep, shoving his feelings away and jamming them so far down they couldn’t threaten to escape in a confession right there in row seven. He would peek and steal glimpses of you, and when you had your eyes closed, he would trace his finger over his lips, craving to taste your strawberry lip balm again, yearning to feel– whatever that feeling was deep in his stomach when your mouth molded to his. 

The taxi ride to the beachfront hotel is full of excitement. Already the weather was hotter, and you could smell the salt in the air. You hung your hand out of the open window, making the slightest little movements to your fingers to let the wind carry your hand into ‘catching waves.’ Hoseok basked in your happiness and watched the wind breeze across your face and jostle loose strands of hair. 

Check-in to the hotel was smooth, and you were given yet another honeymoon suite, much like a villa. Although this time, you couldn’t complain. You felt like a liar but also spoiled and enjoyed every minute. This luxury villa has its own personal plunge pool surrounded by tropical plants and flowers. The lush lawn surrounding the pool and the gorgeous view of the sea from the verandah made the setting a romantic oasis. 

Staring out at sea, Hoseok’s hand brushes your lower back, sending chills down your spine. “What do you want to do tonight?” he asks softly.

“You wanna just hang out here and adventure out tomorrow? We could swim and eat dinner. There’s still a few hours before sunset; maybe we could watch it from here?” You feel yourself rambling, but if you stopped, the feelings from earlier would surely emerge again. Your mind begins spiraling, wondering if staying in was a bad idea. Maybe out in public, you wouldn’t be nervous, you would be able to act normal. “Or–”

“I like that idea,” Hoseok quickly cements the plan to be together, alone, in your villa. 

Not much later, you’ve ordered a pitcher of a coconut-based cocktail to drink during your swim. Dinner and wine are set to be delivered before sunset. Music plays while Hoseok lays on an inflatable pool float, and you lay on a chaise to soak in some of the sun you’ve been dying to stain your skin. Twenty scorching minutes later, you’re ready to cool off. You reach for Hoseok’s cup and pour both of you another before setting the pitcher closer to the pool’s edge and make your way into the refreshing water. 

Hoseok has been watching from behind his sunglasses. The way the sun illuminates your skin and accentuates every curve. The barely there bathing suit covers just enough, letting his imagination go wild, too wild. An ache arises between his legs, and he groans before falling into the water to cool off and calm down. 

You walk over to Hoseok’s float, and he swims to meet you there. Handing him both glasses over the float, you dip into the water and then rest your arms on the other side. 

“What is on your agenda here, Seokie?”

“Mmmm, well, I thought you would just want to lay on the beach all day, so I didn’t actually plan anything. There’s water sports, some old monuments, and lots of clubs and parties. I think I saw something about a sunset cruise.”

“While all that sounds interesting…I am only interested in sun, sand, and saltwater! But, for you, my Seokie, I will make an exception for parties and maybe a cruise.” 

You raise your glass toward Hoseok, and he matches your gesture, clinking his glass against yours. You both chug back the contents, finishing the liquid. Hoseok takes the cups to the side of the pool and fills them again. 

“Let’s go sit in the little nook.” Hoseok nods toward the built-in bench. It’s so tranquil; you both are leaning back, eyes closed, with your arms resting on the stone surrounding the pool. Hoseok speaks first, “I kinda like when you call me your Seokie.”

Your heart gallops at the sound of his voice. Slowly, you open your eyes and turn your head, catching sight of his lips. Your bottom lip curls between your teeth, but as your eyes rise, something catches your attention over his shoulder: a not-so-cute gecko inches from his arm. 

“It’s a cute nickname, yeah? Can we switch seats? I think the sun is better where you are.” You tell a quick fib hoping to keep him calm. “I’ll go over you; just slide this way.” 

Hoseok obliges, and as you’re straddling his lap. His eyes can’t help but fixate on your chest. He lets out a huff of air which hits between your breasts, triggering goosebumps to rush over your skin. You ignore the sensation and cup some water in your hand to splash the reptile away, but Hoseok’s hand touches your leg lightly, drawing your attention. You look down at him with dreamy eyes. His candied hazelnut richness sticks to your soul and pulls your heart with its gooey sap. Your skin tingles as you recall the kiss on the lake while his other hand slowly slides up your other leg.

Then, the universe had other plans, changing time into slow motion. 

The gecko betrays you, moving just enough to attract attention. Hoseok jerks under you, squeals, and stands up, sending you back into the pool. As you swim back to the nook, Hoseok prances and yips his way back into the villa. 

You giggle and rise to your feet to step out and refill drinks. You call out while pouring the last of the cocktail mix, “Seokie, it’s safe!”

He peeks his head out of the cracked door, “You sure?”

“Yes, scaredy cat, come on.” 

Hoseok slowly walks out, watching where he steps, then takes the glass from you. “Dinner should be here soon. We should get cleaned up and go inside.”

“I wanna watch the sunset while we eat.”

“We can see it from the window. There are things out here.”

“I thought we were gonna do what I wanted since I endured the freezing cold and went snowboarding and got sick,” you whine.

Hoseok’s lips stretch in a straight line across his face, and his dimples make a full display. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” he says, moving toward you to grab your hands with his. “For you, I will eat with the creatures.”

“Don’t be so dramatic,” you scoff and try to pull away, but Hoseok doesn’t let go. You scrunch your eyebrows and search his face for a reason, but he only smiles with a gaze that caresses your soul. Hoseok seems like he wants to say something, so you wait; his mouth opens as the doorbell sounds.

“Food delivery.” Hoseok releases your hands and walks toward the door. You stand there for a second longer, trying to assess what just happened.

The food is brought in by multiple staff and laid out gorgeously on the dinette, and each dish has a tag placed next to it with a description. An oversized center plate has fish thali and a few smaller plates and bowls with rice, crab masala, butter-garlic calamari, vindaloo, and naan. They also placed dessert trays full of sweet bread with perad– or guava cheese– sweet turmeric cakes called patoleo, and a bowl of melted chocolate surrounded by coconut cookies. To make things even better, two bottles of alcohol that are popular in the area, coconut Feni and a rich Syrah wine from a local vineyard, are provided with the food.

The staff leaves and your stomach rumbles in the silence. Apparently loud enough for Hoseok to hear as well.

“Wow! You must really be hungry. I’ll make the plates; you pour the drinks.”

Time passes too quickly while eating on the verandah. The two of you have yet to run out of things to talk about, and this new adventure to India has just given you even more to discuss. 

Delicious food, full-bodied wine, and a sunset later, you take a dip in the pool one last time before heading to bed. It’s illuminated with soft purple lights, giving off a milky way appearance. Hoseok sets up the Lofi Bollywood playlist again, and you both float peacefully together. 

When the peppery syrah runs out, you’re both tipsy and a little tired from being in the sun for most of the day. You both have kept your distance, mostly just floating on the pool floats and admiring the star-studded sky. When you both decide to clean up and call it a night, you stumble inside after each other, laughing and pulling at one another to get to the shower first. 

Hoseok wins by a quick battle of rock, paper, scissors and is off to shower first. You take another gander at the food and do some picking before grabbing your clothes to change into. 

When Hoseok walks out with only a towel, your mind goes blank while your eyes fixate on a few drops of water beading along his v-line. He voices it’s your turn, and you quickly grab your clothes, beelining to the bathroom. Hoping the warm water would sober you up before bed was wishful thinking. When you step out to grab your towel, you lose your balance, bang into the wall, and start giggling to yourself. 

“You okay in there? Did you fall?”

“Nope! Just a little…bump. I’m fine!”

“Do you need…help?”

“No! I’m not dressed, Seok! Don’t come in!” You can feel your cheeks flush a hot crimson while you dry off. Why is his voice so sexy right now? You wrap the towel around you and look in the mirror, then tap your hands on your face a few times. The sound of music grabs your attention, so you snap out of it and reach for your clothes. Only to find there is just a T-shirt. Somehow you forgot underwear. You shake your head and put your shirt on, realizing it’s not yours. 

Well, this will be awkward. You open the door and scan the room for Hoseok, but he must be in the other room. Before he notices, you beeline to your suitcase to find your hairbrush, undergarments, and another shirt that’s not his. You find everything and turn to go back into the bathroom.

“Is that my shirt?” he asks from the threshold. You wince at being caught red-handed.

“I accidentally grabbed it! Sorry! I know you hate when people wear your clothes. I came out to get my shirt, and I will change.” You lift your hand to show your shirt and inch back to the bathroom, but something holds you back. Hoseok’s hand is around your wrist, keeping you in place.

“Let’s go dance.”

“Let me finish getting dressed.”

“Nope!” Hoseok pulls you into the other room, where he’s moved some furniture and made space for dancing. You didn’t realize you were holding your breath until he pulled you into him, taking the items from your hand and tossing them onto the nearby chair. That’s when you see you grabbed a lacey lavender thong instead of the boy shorts you usually wear when sleeping. Embarrassed, you go to hide them, but he keeps a firm grip.

“Seok, I need to finish getting dressed.”

“You’re dressed enough. Dance with me,” he whines, and you search his eyes for any hint of his mood. 

“You’re kinda cute when you whine,” you tease and bop his nose with your finger.

“And you’re kinda cute in my shirt.” 

His words take you by surprise, and you look away but his hand catches your chin and pulls your attention back to him. You look into each other’s eyes as he sways you back and forth. He smiles and you feel warmth bore into your skin. He removes the towel from your head and drops it to the ground. Your mind is already foggy from the wine, but now this– whatever this is– adds to the cloud. He raises your hand above your head, making you spin. You clutch at the hem of your shirt as it lifts, exposing the side of your upper thigh and buttcheek. Hoseok pulls you back into him, face to face, and tucks some of your hair behind your ear, maintaining eye contact. You’re dizzy; from the wine or the spin, maybe both. The music you forgot was playing stops abruptly, and you both stutter-step, clashing your feet together. 

“I guess we’re tipsy, huh?” he says just above your ear. “Maybe we should get to bed. We have to wake up early for the tour, right?” He hugs you tight, then walks toward the bedroom, leaving you standing there with your thoughts. Your body, hotter than the sun, almost collapses under your weak knees. 

Completely forgetting about your hair and undergarments, you follow in his footsteps. All of the lights are off save for the one on your side of the bed. Hoseok is waiting for you, covers lifted for you to get in. You sit on the bed and reach to turn the light out, then assume the position you’ve been sleeping in for days. As you scoot back into Hoseok, his arm rests just under your breasts, his hand sliding between your ribs and the bed. You can feel how the shirt has bunched under his arm, and the hem rests just above the bottom of your butt. 

Hoseok thinks about how close he was to kissing you again, feeling your lips rest on his. He can feel how doughy your breasts feel on his arm, and he’s fighting the urge to squeeze them in his hands. He imagines how they would fit perfectly in his palm, his fingers massaging into your flesh. He tilts his pelvis back a little, feeling a sensation between his legs, and he lets out a sigh. 

Hoseok’s breath tickles the back of your ear, sending a vibration down your spine, your back arches sending your ass into his half-hardened member. He pulls his lower half back from you and rests his forehead on your shoulder. 

“S–sorry, Seok.”

“Please be still,” he whispers.

Hoseok raises his head only for his wet lips to catch the skin on your neck. You gasp and stir again, sending his hips into a frenzy. Unable to ignore the feeling, he tugs at your earlobe with his teeth. Your hips roll again, this time against a rock-hard Hoseok. He lets out a shaky breath, and his arm across your chest pulls you closer. 

“I want you,” he mutters along with your name against the crook of your neck before dusting your neck and shoulder with his lips. He pulls his arm from your chest and brushes the underside of your breasts. His hand traces your ribs and follows the curve of your body. He stops on your hip, digs his fingers into your flesh, then does the same to your breasts while slowly thrusting into your backside. He feels good. Too good. He pushes himself up onto his elbow and pulls you under him. 

It’s dark, but he still searches for your eyes when he places his hands on either side of your head, then lowers his body onto you. His lips, those beautiful lips, push onto yours and part them just enough for his tongue to swipe across yours. You follow his lead and press your tongue to his, your hand snaking up to his nape and the other dragging your nails down his back. Hoseok shivers and moans, moving one hand to your ass, pulling you into his throbbing manhood. He grinds against your aroused button and swallows the mewl that escapes your mouth. 

You feel euphoric, and part of you wants to go all in with Hoseok. The sober part realizes this may just be the alcohol speaking. You wouldn’t regret it, but what if he will? What if his flirty self isn’t thinking straight and is just being a man chasing his sexual desires in the moment? Hoseok lets go of your ass and moves his thumb against your core; he coats his thumb in your slick and uses it to slide against your nub with intense pressure and slow rubbing. Juicy lips wedge together between his tongue, languidly dragging it along yours.

“Wait, Seok. Wait,” you mumble against his lips breathlessly. He stills and meets your eyes. “May–maybe we should wait until we’re both completely sober.”

Hoseok passionately kisses you again, following an imaginary line down your jaw to your neck. He sucks the skin into his mouth gently. “Is that what you want?” His teeth graze your clavicle, then he nibbles and chuckles at your arching body. “It doesn’t have to mean anything.”

His weight is crushing you, much like the words– suffocating your senses– and there is no way out. There isn’t enough air to help you overcome the punch to the gut. It doesn’t have to mean anything. It sounds like something someone would say when they were just scratching that itch.

“I–I think it’s best,” your voice trails off like you have more to say, but you don’t know what else to say.

“Okay. You’re probably right.” He briefly stays on top of you, then slides off to your side. “I’m sorry if I crossed the line.”

“That’s not it… I don’t want us to regret anything we did while intoxicated.”

“Makes sense.” There’s a long pause before he continues, “Can I still use you as my body pillow?” 

“Yeah. Sure.”

 It doesn’t have to mean anything. Easy for him to say. 

☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺

The four days in Goa are going quickly, too quickly. You’ve mostly spent them relaxing on the beach, finding adorable cafes, and avoiding what happened and what was said the first night. Even though you said you only wanted to sunbathe and party, you made sure to experience the local culture. 

You walked a beautiful heritage tour through a place blending Portuguese and Indian traditions. The quaint streets were lined with traditional Portuguese-style homes in a palette of bold, bright colors—breathtaking preservation of heritage amongst modern development. 

One day also consisted of a bus ride to the jungle and trekking to a waterfall. The private tour guide told you the water had minerals like a natural spa where you could sit and relax to rejuvenate, but they forgot to mention the little fish that would surround you, and Hoseok’s scream was too embarrassing to stay.

Today was your last full day, and you were determined to soak up every last second you could in the sun. The morning was spent walking along the shoreline, and this afternoon was spent by the pool. You promised Hoseok tonight would be spent at the club because it was the last night to do so. He wanted to dance badly. 

You made sure to have enough time for a shower and a nap. The nap turned into another cuddle session that was quickly becoming your favorite way to sleep. The way Hoseok’s body molded to yours felt too good ever to let go. You were also growing accustomed to his warmth and how his lips would sometimes skim over your skin. But you kept a wall around your heart again, only thinking of it as a friendly snuggle.

It was time to get ready for the club, so you took your outfit into the bathroom. Hoseok gets dressed into his white button-down shirt and yellow shorts, then begins making pregame drinks, and you can hear him making little sounds while he concentrates. It made you recall a few nights ago; you heard little moans while his body subtly rutted into yours. You didn’t wake him or mention it because it was thrilling and made you want more. You wanted to take his hand and place it where you really needed to feel the friction... 

“Do you need help in there?” Hoseok says right outside the door.

You shook your head, looking in the mirror, wondering when you even got dressed. Your outfit was a khaki knit romper. It was backless save for the lace-up string to hold it in place. It looked perfect against your tanned skin with gold hoop earrings and three layered gold necklaces. Keeping your hands behind your back, you realize you need help tying it.

Holding the top, you opened the door with one hand behind your back. “I do, actually,” you swallow hard, noticing his bulged eyes, “can you –uh– tie it, please?” 

Hoseok couldn’t blink. His brain was malfunctioning, and his heart was tearing through his chest. He stumbled backward, then nodded his head yes. You turned slowly, and his eyes roamed every millimeter of your figure. The khaki color accentuated your tan, the perfect sun-kissed, silky skin. He tied the strings and noticed how the shorts ended just below your ass cheeks. He spun you around and looked at the front.

“Y–you can’t wear this,” he said barely above a whisper.

“Hm? Why not?” You turn toward the mirror, twisting, looking for something wrong.

“It’s basically see-through!” he scolds.

“I have pasties on…can you see them? Can you see my underwear?”

Hoseok feels like he’s going to have a cardiac episode. “No. Well, I mean–I– I don’t know. I’m not looking that hard.”

“Well, look! I need to make sure before we go out.”

He steps back again, and you feel naked under his gaze as you slowly turn, making sure everything is in place. 

“One bend or squat and your ass will be out.” 

“Who cares? Not like we’re going to see these people ever again.”

“Right. Okay, looks good. I’m just gonna pee before we go.” He walks into the bathroom and closes the door. 

Now you’re wondering if the outfit is too much. You walk into the bedroom, check yourself out, and decide you look hot and ready to party. Something else crosses your mind as you let your thoughts drift to the other night, how Hoseok raked his hands over your body. How you molded into him while your tongues did the tango. When one of his hands caressed your breast and the other sought to pleasure you? The excitement ends when you also recall, ‘It doesn’t have to mean anything’.

You snap out of it when you hear the bathroom door open, “Ready for the drinks?” he calls out. You both down some shots, quickly sip the cocktails, and then start walking to the club.

You both arrive at the club tipsy and giggly. The booming bass takes over your bodies, and you float rhythmically to grab a drink and then hit the dance floor. Dancing together feels good. His sparkling smile penetrates your heart like the sun’s rays penetrate the Earth’s atmosphere. Drunk off the excitement, and you find yourselves getting closer and closer. You’ve slowed from the beat and look up into his eyes, glossed over from bliss. He leans down as if to say something but the song changes.

He can’t stop his body from reacting, and he’s off to a new dance, showing off his skills… Jay has arrived. He finishes his drink, nudging you to do the same, then sets the empty cups on a nearby table. His sultry steps stalk toward you and turn you around, pressing himself against your backside. You gasp at the sudden movement but flow perfectly with him. His hands rest on your hips, fingers applying pressure to your hip bones. He grinds into you slowly, and you feel the slightest bulge. You push your ass into him and hear a slight hiss escape his mouth. His one arm snakes around your shoulders while the other hand firmly rests on your belly, holding you in place. He grinds into you again and brings his lips to your ear, “You look irresistible in this outfit.”

Your breath hitches, and your back arches away from him, causing your ass to press against him again. He moans your name softly, “Be careful, or we may have to call it a night.” 

Overwhelmed by impulsive thoughts and the cracks in the wall around your heart, you giggle and turn in his arms, “Maybe we should…get water? I’ll be right back.” You walk off the dance floor and head to the bar. 

You ask for ice while the bartender makes cups of iced water. You grab a cube and drag it along your clavicle to cool off; the water glistens on your skin. Once the bartender places your drinks in front of you, you turn to find Hoseok in the crowd before you start walking. 

When you finally spot the back of his yellow shorts, you smile and begin to turn toward the drinks when you see hands with hot-pink nail polish grasping Hoseok’s neck. You watch the hands play at his hairline and swear you hear his distinctive chuckle over the booming music. 

The sinking feeling in your stomach tells you to run away. You look back at the drinks on the bar and reach for your water. When the cup gets to your lips, you realize you’re trembling. The neon lights become dizzying, so you follow your gut and leave. 

Walking along the shoreline, shoes in hand, the sea laps at your feet, each impression erased. You stand still, facing the water, once a vibrant blue full of life, now slumbers in a dreamy black robe. The moon casts its light in a pathway, calling you to walk its passage to serenity. 

You step away from the water, find dry sand to sit on, and plop down onto it. The sand retreats into your shorts, but you don’t care. Your eyes stay fixated on the moonlit path until self-made salt water trickles down your cheek. 

You fell carelessly in love with someone that you’re not sure was even capable of doing the same. “Who was I kidding?” You speak softly to the moon, dig your feet further into the sand, and wrap your arms around your legs. 

Back at the club, Hoseok feels dehydrated from all the dancing and leaves the dance floor to find you. After two laps around the place and asking women outside the bathroom if you’re inside, he starts walking out. He thinks back to when he last saw you, going for water, and then he got distracted dancing. Not just dancing– dancing with another woman. “I’m an idiot!” Hoseok nearly sprints out of the club on a mission to find you.

Clouds slowly roll across the sky, obstructing the moon and the moonlit path vanishing. The shots from earlier have worn off quicker than you’d hoped, and it’s getting chilly sitting by the water with little clothes on. You brush the sand off your butt and legs, grab your shoes in one hand, wrap your arms around yourself, then start walking toward the villa. 

From a distance, Hoseok ardently calls your name. You turn toward his voice and watch as he races toward you. His body slams into yours, almost knocking you over, but his arms hold you tightly in place. 

“You shouldn’t be out here alone.”

“The ocean was calling me. And you... You seemed a little preoccupied.” You step out of his hold. “Plus, seeing you dance like that with someone else– after saying– I don’t know.”

“I’m sorry for upsetting you.”

“Am I crazy, Hoseok? I know we both feel there’s more to this... more to us.”

“You’re not crazy. I feel it too. I–”

“You’re confusing, you know? You flirt with me all day but then do the same with other women. You’re all over me in bed and on the dance floor but then dance the same way with someone else. It hurts, and I don’t know what to think anymore.”

“I’m an idiot, I know. But please, please let me fix this. I–” Hoseok stops talking and stares into your eyes, searching your soul for the words.

“You what? Want to have your cake and eat it too? I don’t want to be your toy.”

“I meant what I said the other night, granted it wasn’t the right timing, but I do want you–”

“Forget it, Hoseok! Let’s just pretend nothing happened and go back–”

“I don’t want that. I want you in more ways than just sex. If anything, this trip has brought us so much closer, and I can’t imagine not waking up next to you, and I don’t want it to end.”

Unsure of what to say or if you should believe him, he was the one who said it didn’t have to mean anything, and now he says this. Your eyes brim with tears as raindrops prickle your skin. Hoseok looks up at the clouds and scoffs at the inconvenience. The rain falls steadily, drenching the two of you and masking your tears. 

Hoseok grabs your hand and pulls you along while running back to the villa.

Neither of you say a word on the way back, yet your minds are not silent. When you enter the door, you gently slide off of Hoseok’s back and straighten your romper down. He turns to face you and runs his hand through his wet hair, pushing it back from his face. He toes off his shoes, keeping his eyes on you, and then dashes for the bathroom coming back with a towel and robe.

“I wasn’t sure which one you may want.”

“Thank you,” you mumble.

Hoseok watches you sluggishly dry your hair as much as you can, then puts his hands on yours and takes the towel. He dabs your face, slowly moving down your body, removing as much water as possible from your satiny skin. When he’s finished at your feet, he looks up at you, eyes warm and inviting like a cup of coffee. You swear you can see hearts dancing in the richness of his irises. 

He drops the towel, removes his shirt, and stands before you. You can tell he’s nervous before his hand lands on your cheek, spreading his warmth into your skin. 

He holds your hands and rests his forehead on yours, “I made stupid decisions, but I promise you, I am stupid for you. I’m scared I ruined everything when in reality, I wanna be with you. More than friends, more than a hookup. I want to be your partner.”

“Seok–”

“I never should have said, ‘it didn’t have to mean anything’, because it would always mean something to me. I regretted the words the minute they came out but didn’t want to dig myself deeper.”

You pull away slightly to better see his face, attempting to find whatever answer your heart seeks. 

“Yes, I swear. I have wanted to confess my feelings to you for years–”

“Years!?” You swat at his chest and step back, but he doesn’t let you get far, pulling at your hips.

“I love our friendship and working with you. I was afraid my feelings would ruin what we had, but then it felt like you maybe had those feelings too. Instead of talking to you about it, I tried to hide it in other ways that ended up hurting you and almost lost you. I will never let that happen again.”

Hoseok leans in and presses his plump lips to yours, the air from his nose tickling your upper lip. You fuse your lips to his, and the kiss radiates your surroundings, the dark, damp room now ambient and forgiving. Your body molds to his as sweet tingles of butterflies escape the crumbling wall around your heart. Hoseok lifts you onto him with his lips still pressed to yours, and your arms wrap around his shoulders. He walks gingerly to the bed and lowers you down onto it. His mouth breaks away from yours and moves to your breasts, barely held in by the top of the romper. His tongue outlines the mounds as his hand feverishly runs along your thigh.

He murmurs your name, “Please be my partner…my lover?” He stills his hand and sprinkles kisses up to your neck. 

You giggle at the tickle, “Yeah, I’ll be yours, Seok.” You can feel his smile broaden against your skin before he lifts his head and looks at you.

“One more thing…a favor.”

“Hm?”

“Call me Jay when we’re in this kinda mood.”

“Okay?” Your curious tone prompts him for more.

“It turns me on, and I wanna hear it from your pretty mouth,” he coos before swiping your bottom lip with his tongue. 

Hoseok stands, eyes roaming your body, and pulls you up to do the same. His hand reaches behind you, untying the strap and letting the top of your romper loosely fall. The material sits on your hips before you push it down, letting it fall to your feet. Hoseok grins at the sight of your pasties, and you hide your face behind your hands. 

He tugs gently at your hands and pulls you into him, swaying into a dance. He kisses your forehead and then twists you, placing your back against his chest. Your body melts into him as his hands explore, and teeth nip at your ear. Hoseok begins to bend you forward, pressing your body into the mattress. You put your hands out to soften the fall onto the bed, and they slide above your head. Hoseok admires the sight before he lowers himself onto you, pressing his semi-hard cock into the crack of your ass and sliding a hand down your arm until his hand intertwines with yours. 

You lift your body, making him adjust so you can roll onto your back. Pulling his face into yours, you place soft kisses along his cheeks and jaw. He grinds against the thin cotton between your legs and squeezes your breast. You let out a slight noise that ignites his desire, and soon enough, his mouth is ravishing anywhere it can reach, stirring fire within you. 

“Mmm, Jay.” 

Hoseok stops abruptly at the words that escaped your lips. His forehead collapses against yours, “Say it again.” He peels the pasties off your nipples and pushes your breasts together, licking the crease between them. He sucks the skin into his mouth hard enough to leave his mark, then moves onto a nipple and nibbles lightly before swirling his tongue around it. He sucks it and releases it with a popping sound. You squirm under him as he does the same to the other breast.

“Fuck, Jay.” His body turns to jello– weakened by your whisper– falling limp on you. 

“It sounds better than I could’ve ever imagined.” He slides a finger into your underwear and pulls it off you. Kisses linger on your skin from your breasts to your stomach. His warm breath is on your thigh, and your body shivers under the heat. 

His mouth sweeps your folds, and he licks a long, unhurried stroke. Your legs shake, and your hands fly into his hair. His tongue flicks at your swelling nub as mewls escape your lips. 

“Jay, please.” 

He continues flickering his tongue and makes eye contact with you, raising one eyebrow. “Hmm?” The moan sends vibrations up your spine and a whine from your chest. You grab the sides of his head and steady him as you rock your hips against his face. He chuckles, sending your body into a frenzy. You moan his name repeatedly until you climax, dropping your hands, but he continues. You whine and wiggle out of his grasp when it becomes too much. 

Hoseok lets you come down a little before repositioning on top of you. You can feel his thickness against your leg, you push his underwear down until he takes it off. He kneels between your legs, and you watch as he pumps his cock a few times, eyes trained on you. He leans down with his hands on either side of you, “You’re beautiful, you know that?”

Blissed out, you can only mumble a resemblance of a response. Hoseok laughs and an iridescent aura overtakes your body, giving you more energy to continue. 

“Can you handle a little more of Jay?” he quirks. You bite your bottom lip and nod your head. He eases into you; his cock drags along your walls, filling you deliciously. “Fuuu…so wet and tight.” He lulls, waiting patiently for you to adjust to him, and peppers soft kisses onto your mouth. 

His hips pull back slowly and gently push back into you. His tongue pushes in the same movement against yours. He swallows all of the moans slipping from your throat. Lewd sounds are coming from each movement, and he groans, “Do you hear that? I’m gonna cum so fast.”

Hoseok holds himself up off of you and quickens his pace. Your tits bounce with each thrust, along with little sounds leaving you; he’s close. 

You hiss and moan his name again as you hit another high. When he feels your walls throbbing against him, he lets go, not stopping until every drop is out of him. He rests on you, staying buried in your warmth. 

Hoseok nibbles along your shoulder, then bestows tenderhearted kisses up your neck, landing on your mouth. You drink him in like a refreshing iced tea on a hot summer day. 

He mutters your name against your neck, “That was even more amazing than I’d ever imagined...and trust me that's been a lot.” His smile against your skin radiates happiness into your bones, a feeling overwhelmingly pleasant. 

“Mmhmm. I think India is my new favorite place. It's beautiful here, even the cold part, and the memories are enough for a lifetime," you pause for a moment, your fingers combing through his fluffy hair, "and I really like this too."

Hoseok suppresses a laugh, letting out a puff of air, “Me too, but it's only my favorite because I'm with you.” He kisses your shoulder and finds one of your hands to wrap his fingers around yours.

The two of you lay there, one hand interlocked and the other tracing each other’s bodies, gentle kisses on exposed skin, letting this new experience seep into your core memories. Like traveling to a new place for the first time and becoming deeply smitten with a new, beautiful place. 

You look at Hoseok’s face, his eyes closed and soft features aglow, even in the dark. His smile is your favorite sight and his laugh is your favorite sound. He is easily your favorite adventure. 

☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺

Namaste Collab Masterlist

Glossary:

Ladoos- traditional Indian dessert is made with different types of flour that are mixed with sugar and shortening, then shaped into balls.

Sweet boondi- fried gram flour balls soaked in flavored sugar syrup. 

Kaju katli- a cookie-like Indian sweet made from a dough consisting largely of ground cashew nuts; the name translates as "cashew slice."

Shikara- a wooden, flat-bottom boat

Ghunghat- head covering or headscarf

Vindaloo- Indian curry dish, which is originally from Goa, based on the Portuguese dish

Fish thali- complete meal consisting of Rice, fish curry, fried fish, and veggies

Feni- a liquor indigenous to the state of Goa, India. The two most popular types are cashew and coconut.

[roseofrevolt]

Angel In The Mirror

The Angel in the Mirror™ was marketed during the 1995 holiday season as a means of communing with a deity without the inconveniences of a complex faith. For the low price of 59.99, you would have unfettered divining rights to discern even the most mysterious of life's questions. For a ritual object, it was a fairly simple set-up compared to what could be found in the ostentatious halls of the Oblationist. Gone were the days of making the trip out to receive banal gifts and visions from the various registered gods. This was the modern family's solution to keep up with work-worship balance. All that production needed was a single pane of two-way glass, backlit by a bulb no brighter than what you'd find in a nightlight. With a flick of a switch you would blur the other side of the mirror and await her visage to find its way to you. The shadow of a resplendent being, wings outstretched and welcoming you into her presence. A handy guide of hymns and prayer was included free with every purchase. All the praise and thanks she would ever need. "From afar, we watch the world. From within, we watch ourselves. You are the sight beyond sight. Grace us so we may one day see."

Of course, making a god was the big strategic cost. The company thought we'd be a little clever and repurpose a minor one that the courts had deemed too unwieldly for the general public. The freaky backwoods types that you see on the news every now and again. Something with all the work already put into it.

The Damselfly. She Who Bears Witness. Initially we were afraid of what the focus groups would think of some great insect, but the aspects that had been used to create her fit what we had been looking for. Soothsaying, guardian of oracles and the lost, and most importantly, omen of good fortune to a newly built household. She agreed to our rebranding ideas after we had explained how useful she would be again. Pterostigma was traded in for feathers. When she hit the market, we had thought we had hit gold. Initial sales sold like hot cakes, and the reviews coming in had branded the Angel in the Mirror™️ as the fad of the year. We were finding that while families were still our main buyer, there was a smaller but growing demand for her from the 20-25 age demographic. Young adults still in college or entering the workforce, still full of anxiety for the future. "What if I don't pass my classes?" "Is this job what I want to do for the rest of my life?" "How am I going to pay back these loans?"

The more contemporary gods wouldn't have responded to such trivial questions, but the Angel in the Mirror™️ was more than happy to assuage their fears and listen. A gentle voice to give insight into each and every possibility. Her guiding hand reaching out to help walk you through even the most minute detail in some cases. We should have realized what had gone wrong then and there, but we were too blind to the truth of what we had done. May 12th, 1996 was the official start of the recall. We had been destroying the units we had in our facilities months before that however. The first case of a breach had occurred during our preparations for the next holiday season. Some kid down south, without a lick of sense in him, had fashioned her a way through. The divine made flesh is never a pretty sight, but this aspect of her that was able to materialize was definitely not the smiling woman we had plastered in our ads.

Our mistake was not researching what the Damselfly did to her adherents beyond the beneficial. She was a crepuscular predator, who would devour those caught without the options that a future would provide. When she could no longer see the paths ahead for you, she would convince you that there was only one real choice left. Better to be one with her forever than to face a sorrowful tomorrow. We had given her unfettered access beyond the small base that had spawned her. And as report after report started to come through soon after, we knew she was taking advantage of that. Those lucky enough to listen to her during the day found that the sun was too bright for her many eyes, just a moment or two more to decide against her calling. Others were gone the moment she reached through for them.

The officers of The Wasting Maw were able to contain her influence after a short stand-off, but the damage to our brand had been done. We paid our dues in refunds and the usual mandated fines with these sorts of things. Our then CEO even had to address the public, sweating bullets as he apologized for the oversight in our product design, promising that our newest line wouldn't lead to mass disappearences. You still see cultists buying up mirrors online, those who wished to have been called by her or maybe don't understand what it meant. They pay thousands of dollars to adorn themselves in the shards of what they get their hands on, becoming her eyes out to the world. They pray that she will darken the panes once more and whisper of tomorrow.

[buffysummers]

🔥 + Rory and her relationship with boys cause it's a mess.

Ahhh. I just need to preface this by saying that Rory is my favorite character. I love her so much! But that girl is a cheater, through and through.

She cheats on Dean with Jess, then cheats WITH Dean on his WIFE, then *sort of* cheats on Logan with Jess, and then cheats WITH Logan on his fiancée. The only person she doesn't cheat on is Jess, but who knows, if they had spent more time as a couple, maybe she would have.

Of course we can give Rory some grace since she is a teenager for a lot of this, but she's 32 in the revival and she's still cheating. So, like I said, that girl is a cheater.

Rather than discuss which ships I like more, I'd rather talk about Rory herself, since I don't really consider any of her relationships to be TOO toxic. Like, sure, there's some red flags and things are definitely far from perfect, but at the end of the day, it's a show and it's meant to entertain us. If everything was peaceful and happy all the time, we'd be bored.

Now, I hate to point fingers, but I think a lot of Rory's issues with men have to do with Lorelai. Lorelai, who basically made sex a taboo subject. A moment that Lorelai really fails Rory as a mother is when Rory opens up to her and tells her that she's considering having sex with Jess. Lorelai looks VISIBLY upset and disappointed when Rory is doing the right thing here. She's doing something that most kids don't do, she's opening up to her parent! And then there's the whole "I have the good kid" gloating moment when she overhears a conversation between Paris and Rory where Paris confesses she had sex and she isn't sure how she feels about it. Yes, Rory didn't hear her mom say this and some of this has to do with the WB just being kind of puritan about sex in general, but this moment perfectly encapsulates Lorelai's mindset, which puts a lot of pressure on Rory and probably confuses her.

Lorelai acts like Rory can talk to her about ANYTHING, but when it comes to boys, she behaves so terribly and there's no way this doesn't impact Rory and her decisions regarding men, especially considering how she places Lorelai on a pedestal. She even states in her graduation speech that all she's ever wanted to be was her mom. And that isn't necessarily a good thing, especially concerning Lorelai's relationship with men.

Lorelai runs away from her feelings, Rory sees this. Lorelai often juggles multiple men, Rory sees this. Lorelai had a kid at 16, Rory knows this. Lorelai basically turns sex into a bad thing, Rory sees this. It's understandable to want your child to make smart decisions and to be careful, but Lorelai does so much more than that and it's just... stifling! It isn't good parenting.

I'm taking the time to discuss this not only because, like I said earlier, it influences a lot of Rory's relationships with men, but also because I often see Rory attacked by the fandom, and rarely ever do I see Lorelai criticized. Lorelai is the adult here, not Rory. Rory can make mistakes sometimes, it isn't the end of the world. She doesn't deserve half the flack she gets from the fandom.

I think one of the most realistic aspects of Gilmore Girls is how MESSY Rory's love life is considering how she's raised. We often talk about how amazing it would be to have a mother-daughter relationship like Lorelai and Rory. How it would be so cool to be best friends with your mom, but you cannot be friends with your children. And Gilmore Girls shows the consequences of a mother trying to be best friends with her daughter.

This is why I love Rory so much. She's just sooo real. Everything down to her sense of entitlement... It all comes back to Lorelai.

So, Rory's love life is so messy but it's also extremely understandable and believable. I will add that my biggest frustration with Rory's love life is how her breakup with Jess is handled. It's unforgivable to me and just... not good writing. Thanks for the ask!

Send Me a 🔥+ a Topic, and I’ll Tell You My Honest Opinion About It

[tenebrius-excellium]

I somehow feel like it's a little too early to make this estimate, but I took care of some things for myself lately and I'm feeling so so alone and vulnerable but also wayyy more confident, cautiously optimistic and hopeful for the future than before? Like, as a motherless daughter I have this dream of being able to say that "it got okay around age 30". I need to be able to tell this to someone else one day and be so so compassionate and encouraging to them, being able to promise that everything does get better, even if it might take someone another decade to reach that point for themselves.

So here's my coping mechanisms / survival guide for other motherless kids/teens/young adults out there... it's so trashy, like, I was making this up as I went along, I was just winging it out there, I did not have help and nobody cared what I went through. These are the things that got me through. They're not developed, they're not scientific, they're makeshift comfort. But please take what you need if you find anything helpful in this pile of rugs. (so crying right now)

Music and daydreaming help. So, sooooooo much. Don't get lost in the daydreaming too much, but I, for example, literally use music beat patterns to physically calm myself down. Music is a GREAT emotional regulator. Get that stuff out. Pacify yourself. I hum, I tap, I blow my eardrums out when life gets too much.

Stuffed animals help. They are soft and go everywhere with you and they are a guaranteed safe space. They are your pillow at night and the one you can always kiss and hug. They will love you back with their presence as well as they can. They've been through your shit with you and they are witnesses.

Christianity and Church help. A lot. A good Church will have motherly mothers and safe men in it. Members will gift you their spare items (I got like a clothes rack, a microwave, and more). They will give you money to get by if you honestly admit that you need help. When starving, I've always lowkey found food there. Within a Church, people will naturally move and clear out their households and get you connected to essential supplies like repairs, vacant housing, unused furniture, clothes and such. Accept this help. Don't depend on it, however, and do not exploit it either. Just grasp those opportunities when they present themselves.

Jesus himself helps. He will answer your prayers prayed in desperation if you honor him with your life. He saw. Trust me, he saw and he still sees, and he still helps you. Even now.

Socialism helps. A LOT. I've survived on state benefits for the longest time and have been so greatful discovering all the graces the government will grant you as an orphan, as a student, as a child, as a young person. My state has been more loving to me than my own parents. At least that's what it oftentimes feels like. Whenever they abandoned me, I was able to apply for some financial aid elsewhere. I recently organized insurance for myself, and it is my first real safety net EVER. I can relax better now.

Media help. Books, movies, talks, inspirational quotes, whatever floats your boat. Hearing and watching about other people's experiences lets you find kindred spirits and role models to aspire to. Don't get too lost in them either because you have to forge your own path. But take all the strength from them that you can. My real life role models include Kate Winslet, Kate Blanchett, Hugh Jackman and RDJ. My fictional role models are every swashbuckler ever, every dreamer, fighter, dancer, singer ever, just passionate people who are able to live in the present and get creative with the situations they find themselves in while maintaining a positive attitude and a fun, confident spirit.

No one will be coming to save you. Take responsibility for yourself as early as you can. I made the mistake of expecting others to save me for far too long. I remained passive expecting my step-family to accomodate my needs "when they finally find the time to think about me". These people have their own family dynamic; they don't get that you are different. Listen; THEY HAVE THEIR OWN FAMILY. You, however, are from an entirely different family. I wish for each and every orphan to be grafted into a family that wholeheartedly accepts who you are and supports you unconditionally. In my case though, I was expected to fit in with them and to grow up to do things exactly like them, their way. Which I couldn't. Because my blood literally boils different. If you feel "off", "out of place", "different", reclaim your origins, insist on it, do things your own way. It'll free you dramatically. If you're happy, good for you, then don't touch that shit. You can be grateful for what you have. Sincere gratulations! But what I'm trying to say is, asking the dumb questions and having to learn everything by yourself is humiliating. It's also exhausting. Sometimes you will have to fight the adults in your life for what you really need when they try to give you what they *think* a normal kid needs. You are not a normal kid. You need extra stuff. Why do YOU have to do everything by yourself out of all people? WHY YOU? WHY MEEE? I have no idea. It doesn't make sense. It's so unfair. All I can tell you is that things immediately get better for you the moment you stand up for yourself and take responsibility. It's okay to whine. Just get to doing something about it while you're at it. Listen, I love you, but you HAVE to.

This I can't say from personal experience, but apparently, having animals/pets and engaging in sports helps some people. Small things I've noticed are that basking in the sun feels like a hug. Walking barefoot as often as possible connects you to the earth. It's very grounding. Everything from the night stars to the glistening water to the soft blades of grass is there to love you and for you to feel safe under. Mountain ridges and beloved cityscapes are things for my eyes to hold on to when the abyss gets bottomless and the void unbearable.

Take things as slow as you need to. Don't beat yourself up for not developing or understanding things as fast as your peers, - they get the luxury of being inherently taught by the mere existence of their parents - you don't. You're a warrior. You're a survivor. You are busy reconnecting your family line to the future which was severed by the disappearance of your og folks. You are literally carrying the load of two generations. Respect that. You will get to the same destinations as the others, just a whole lot slower. It's okay. Preserve your strength, take as many breaks as you need as you teach yourself to not just survive, but to genuinely thrive.

You will make it. You will make it. You will make it. You will make it. You will make it. You will make it. You will make it. You will make it.

You will make it.

[downwiththeficness]

Shadow and Veil Ch. 1

Summary: Eva Moore’s life was a carefully constructed fiction. Every day, she did exactly what her mother in law, her husband, and his best friend expected of her. No mistakes. And, that was going pretty well for Eva right up until a huge complication literally tried to run her over. Now, she’s faced with trying to keep the pieces of her life from falling apart while attempting (and failing) to keep her feelings for her husband’s new business partner at bay.

A/N: This fic is a sister-fic to A Need So Great and A Need Unleashed. You do not need to have read ANSG or ANU to read this fic, but there are Easter eggs from those fics in Shadow and Veil for readers with keen eyes.  This fic is explicit for canon-compliant blood, gore, violence, and sex. As such, it is intended for an adult audience, only. A/B/O dynamics come with their own warning. Anyone under the age of 18 should not interact with this work. I do not consent to reposting this work to other platforms. Reblog only to Tumblr.

Word Count: ~2900

Masterlist        Next Chapter     Read on AO3

Eva pulled the scarf further down over her head and kept her chin tucked against her chest. The hall was deserted, but she could not be too careful. Not here. Not now.

Wary of who might be nearby, Eva gave a furtive knock on the door of apartment twelve.

The door opened and she was waved inside without ceremony. Scurrying quickly, Eva let out the breath she hadn’t noticed was stuck somewhere in the pit of her stomach.

“Thank you for seeing me.”

Bobbi Lynn rolled her eyes, “I see you twice a year, Mrs. Moore. You don’t have to thank me every time.”

But, she did.

Eva owed Bobbi Lynn her deepest thanks. She could never hope to repay the woman for all the pain and suffering she helped Eva to avoid. The twice yearly trip downtown was a pilgrimage that Eva would take over and over again as long as she got the same results.

Bobbi Lynn gestured for Eva to sit on a couch in front of a walled off fireplace. The room was smaller than her formal living room, but Eva liked it more. Bobbi Lynn didn’t ascribe to the theory of interior decorating where rooms looked like something out of a magazine. The apartment looked lived in. Like a home.

Dropping into the cushions, Eva folded her hands in her lap as she waited for the other woman to open up what, to anyone who might be looking, was a sewing basket. Beneath the thimbles and thread was a small box that contained a zip lock bag of white, oval pills. Eva watched as Bobbi Lynn opened an unlabeled pill bottle and carefully counted them out. She counted along, until the number in her head reached one hundred and eighty.

One hundred and eighty doses of salvation.

The bottle was set on the coffee table between them. Eva had to resist the urge to lunge for it. Instead, she reached into her hand bag and pulled out a wad of crumpled bills. Carefully selected for the way they wouldn’t be missed, Eva spent all of the six months between trips uptown gathering the money and hiding it away.

Smoothing the bundle, Eva handed it over. Bobbi Lynn took the bundle and had the good grace not to count it. She simply folded the money over and tucked it into the cup of her bra. It was only then that Eva felt comfortable taking the bottle.

As casually as she could, she dropped it into the open cavern of her purse and snapped the bag shut, “Thank you.”

Bobbi Lynn smirked at her, “You’re one of my most loyal customers. I should be thanking you.”

Eva looked down, could barely meet Bobbi Lynn’s eyes, “I plan to be your loyal customer for a long time.”

Bobbi Lynn’s silence was so pointed that Eva could feel it resting heavily on her shoulders. She looked up, hoping that her expression was, if not neutral, at least pleased. Bobbi Lynn was looking at Eva with a little crease between her brows. Her mouth was turned down and her lips were thin. It wasn’t a look of displeasure, but it certainly wasn’t happy.

“Eva,” Bobbi Lynn said evenly, “I’m used to women of your status needing my services for a short while. I know your...situation is...unfortunate.”

Eva’s jaw clenched as she bit down on the words she wanted to say—a denial, a sharp barb to keep the woman at bay. The very fact that Bobbi Lynn was broaching the subject meant that her guard was not as good as it should be, was not perfect.

“What I’m saying is that if you need something more, I can provide it.”

Fixing her face with an imperious look, Eva let herself say, “What more can you do?”

It was very unlikely that Eva would ever ask Bobbi Lynn to do anything other than provide her with regular medication, but it never hurt to know that options were available to her.

Licking her lips, Bobbi Lynn hedged, “I have people, not nice people. But, people. They know how to get someone out of trouble.”

“You think I’m in trouble?”

“I think,” Bobbi Lynn said firmly, “that omegas who take those pills that you have in your bag for almost five years don’t want to be where they are. I think that those omegas would rather be somewhere else.”

She was right.

Even as she walked down the aisle in a dress that felt too tight and heavy, counting her steps all the way, Eva wanted very much to be somewhere else. She never once let on to her parents that she didn’t feel ready to be a wife. They were so happy when a doctor got on one knee and proposed. And, when the day came, she said her vows and signed the marriage license. It was all very tidy.

If only she had known what was waiting for her on the other side of ‘I do.’

“I’ll keep that in mind,” was all Eva could manage to say.

Bobbi Lynn’s mouth pursed, but she didn’t push that subject further, “You know my number.”

Rising, Eva breathed, “Yes.”

Standing with Eva, Bobbi Lynn walked with her to the door, “I’ll wait for your call in six months.”

“Yes,” Eva said again, “See you then.”

Tugging self-consciously at her scarf, Eva kept her head down as she moved quickly through the hall and down two sets of stairs to the front door of the apartment. It was a nice building in an upscale neighborhood, which afforded Bobbi Lynn the benefit of the doubt when it came to her more profitable business. A visit from Eva wouldn’t be out of the ordinary, would probably go completely unnoticed. But, this was too important to leave to ‘probably’.

Stepping out onto the sidewalk, Eva pulled out her keys and headed to where she parked the car she was allowed to drive. Handbag tucked into her belly, eyes on the ground at her feet, she could be forgiven for failing to notice the person running headlong in her direction.

Yelping, Eva would have fallen clean on her ass if a pair of hands hadn’t grabbed her by the forearms and held her steady. Her apology died on her lips as she stared up at a man who looked about as startled as she felt.

He was not much taller than her, but the breadth of his shoulders blotted out the sunlight so that she was standing in his shadow. Sweat dropped down from his temples, the collar of his t shirt. Clearly in the middle of an afternoon jog—which was a terrible idea in this heat—the man before Eva couldn’t seem to catch his breath.

Eva wished it were the same for her. Every inhale felt like fire in her lungs, burning so hot that it felt like her tongue would melt in her mouth. He smelled...divine. Tobacco and vetiver and—no, no, it couldn’t be. He could not be…

Alpha.

He was an alpha. And, he was touching her.

Stumbling backwards, Eva blinked rapidly in the vain hope of clearing her vision. It seemed to tunnel down to a pinpoint. The blackness seeped in at the edges so that all she could focus on was him.

“Lo—lo,” he stuttered, “siento.”

His voice was deeply accented, which she should have expected. He didn’t look at all like the men who lived in the city. Nor did he look like any of the men who lived in Louisiana, for that matter.

He looked…

“Beautiful.”

When his brows drew together in confusion, Eva realized that she’d said that word aloud. Hot with embarrassment, she tried to sidestep him only to find that he’d captured her wrist. His grip was loose enough that Eva could pull away easily if she wanted to. She didn’t. She was quite content to remain close to this man who smelled so good.

The skin on skin contact was almost unbearable. Too hot. Too full of sizzling electricity. She couldn’t hope to move when he was looking at her like that. No one had ever looked at her like that—with intrigue, with interest.

Pulling gently, he encouraged her to stand closer. Eva went, her breath shuddering. She felt like screaming. She felt like crying. She felt like curling into a little ball and hiding until this feeling went away. It overwhelmed her every defense, leaving her vulnerable.

And, in the same decadent breath, she found herself wishing it would never stop. The way he was looking at her, the heaviness of his hand on her arm. The scent that she never wanted to forget. Eva wanted to freeze this moment so that she could live within it forever.

“What’s your name?”

The question startled her so much that her teeth clacked together as her jaw clenched. She couldn’t be here. She couldn’t do this. It didn’t matter how much she wanted to stay. This feeling, this thing that was blooming inside her was something she knew she couldn’t control.

It overtook the emptiness that seemed to be all that she would ever know. It filled her with the worst possible feeling: hope. Eva could not afford to feel hope. Not with herself, certainly not with this stranger.

“I have to go,” she managed to bite out, desperate to get away and yet rooted to the spot.

“Please,” he said.

Please.

No one had ever begged her for anything. No one thought she had anything to give, not for a very long time. And, this man wanted her to stay, which was impossible. But, she couldn’t make herself go.

There was relief in his expression when he realized that she wasn’t running away. She could kiss him for that. It shocked her that she wanted to. Eva hadn’t wanted to kiss anyone in so long that she almost didn’t recognize the urge. She wanted it. A kiss that absolutely could not happen. There was no other reason for the way she couldn’t take her eyes from his mouth.

Her keys slipped from her fingertips, landing loudly at their feet. His eyes flicked down briefly before they lifted again to her face. He held her gaze as he knelt down and hooked his middle finger through the key chain. Rising slowly, he held it out to her.

“Thank you,” Eva breathed, reaching out.

As she took the keys from him, his hand flexed open so that the tips of his fingers brushed along her wrist and over her palm. Eva’s mouth opened to say something, but the words got stuck in her throat. All her brain cells were focused on the heat that pooled where he touched.

He was too close.

She wanted him closer.

“Tell me your name,” he demanded softly.

Her gut twisted, reminded that these were dangerous waters and she was already drowning. Her breaths grew short and labored, which was not helping. His scent was in her nose, filling her lungs, racing through her bloodstream.

He noticed her quickly rising panic and made a low, soothing sound as he grasped her by the elbows. She let him pull her back into the circle of his arms, her hands resting on his chest. He brushed the back of his hand against her cheek, catching on her scarf.

With a curious smile, he tugged it away from her face until it fell to her shoulders. His free hand moved from her elbow to the small of her back, anchoring her. Heart pounding, Eva watched him take in her hair and face, watched him smile as if he was pleased with her. Relieved that he seemed to like the way she looked, Eva’s hands curled into his shirt. The movement turned the keys in her hand, sunlight reflecting off the metal.

The sun reflected off something else, too.

Eva’s wedding ring glinted at her, a harsh reminder that this was not her husband and she shouldn’t be letting him hold her like this.

Frightened and angry with herself, Eva pushed away, saying, “I have to go!”

And then, because she knew if he got ahold of her again she wouldn’t have the strength to push away a third time, Eva ran.

Sprinted, really.

Uncaring that she’d left her scarf behind, Eva sprinted down the side walk and to her car. Keying in, she turned over the engine and turned the wheel to pull out into traffic. The whole drive home, Eva worked hard to calm herself down.

Her heart was palpitating in her chest, her skin felt like it would tear away from muscle and bone, her blood was boiling in her veins. Between her legs, she felt swollen and wet with a pressure that refused to abate no matter how hard she squeezed her thighs together.

Parking in the garage of her husband’s house, Eva was relieved that he hadn’t yet returned. Alexei’s car was also missing from its usual place in the driveway. The house was empty, which meant that Eva could get inside and to her room without having to explain why she smelled like stress and sex and alpha.

Purse in hand, Eva ran inside and through the kitchen to the stairs. Taking them two at a time, she turned down the hall and hustled to her bedroom. It was the one allowance her husband gave to her. A small, private space at the back of the house with a set of double doors that opened out onto the terrace.

Closing the door behind her, Eva moved quickly to the en suite bathroom. She had to get a shower, had to clear her skin of his scent. It wafted around her, bringing with it the memory of his hands as they moved over her body.

Her belly cramped hard enough that it took her breath.

Leaning heavily on the counter, Eva closed her eyes and tried to breathe through it. He was on her clothes, all over her hands. It made the cramping so much worse, but God was she desperate for it.

Pulling up the hem of her dress, Eva yanked off her underwear and stepped out of them. Resting her weight on one forearm, she cupped her mound and groaned. Her folds were covered in slick and very, very sensitive. She pressed her fingers into them hard, trying to assuage a rampant need that was almost entirely alien to her.

Outside of a heat, Eva rarely had any inclination to touch herself. Her marital bed was all but empty—had been since her husband decided that Eva couldn’t bear children. She was glad for it. Sex with him was quick, but painful. It was only during her first few heats that she knew that there could be any kind of pleasure in it.

But, those days were years away now. Not even Eva’s heat could tempt her husband back into bed with her. She rode them out as she did most things—alone.

This, though. This.

This feeling of urgency felt ungodly, unholy. It felt like she would die if she didn’t find him again. Did he run the same route every day? The memory of his labored breathing, the sweat on his brow was quickly applied to the thought of him laying atop her, pushing into her.

Fingers curling, Eva sank them inside her body. She remembered the heat of his hands, imagined that they were moving along the seam between her legs, adding pressure to her opening, stretching her. She inhaled deeply, taking in his scent with a strangled moan.

She turned her wrist and rolled her hips into her hand so that she could grind her clit against it. The added sensation burned through her, pushing her closer to the edge. Arching over the counter, Eva dropped her head into her hand.

The hand that had been curled into his chest.  The hand that still carried the scent of his body, his sweat.

Face turning, Eva mouthed along her palm, licking that scent from her own skin. It was mixed with hers, the combination heady and powerful enough to throw her into orgasm. She cried out, hand moving, lips pulled back from her teeth.

Knees buckling, Eva fell to the floor. With heaving breaths, she rubbed at her clit until she’d wrung every ounce of pleasure from it. When her legs began to protest the tile floor, she rolled to her hip and swung them around.

Her head felt like it was filled with cotton. Dizzy. Sated. Warm.

She leaned against the cabinet below the sink while she caught her breath. In a moment, Eva would get up and shower. She would fold this memory and the memory of the attractive man into the back of her mind. When things were bad, she would unfold it again and let herself think about what might have happened if she let him kiss her.

It would be a small, white-hot light in her very dark life.

[otter1962crystalball]

If I Could Talk to My Younger Self

June 21, 2024

Happy Summer Solstice and 21st day of Pride. What if I could go back in time and talk to my younger self? What would I say? What time period would I go? What situations need addressing? I think that we are the sum of all of our experiences and I know that all the things that happened, good or bad, made me who I am. If I had a role model to follow, maybe things would have been easier. I’ve heard quite a few men talk about not having a role model as a gay man or child. Rick Clemons’ Over 40 Gay Men Gay Talk is a good example. What if I’d had a role model? What would that role model say? So for today, I’m going to visit a number of times in my past and tell my younger self the he is on the right path and let him know how to deal with the pain of rejection, the horrors of being bullied, the fear of the unknown and more. Maybe that would have made my life a little easier. So, here goes…

The first time I would go back would be when I was five and tell him that whenever he feels different that he is not alone.  As an adult, I know he was feeling like he was the only one that was made that way. I’d tell him that he is not a mistake and that God will not wipe his name out of his book (See my Pride and Spirituality blog on June 2, 2024).

I would also let him know that there will be tough times ahead, but he will be strong and that he must not feel inferior or less than anyone else. He will also know that he will come to accept himself as he is and not feel less of a human being. As I reflect I know that there are so many gay men who have grown up pretending to be something other than what they really were. If the younger Grant could hear that he is not alone and not a mistake, he might have an opportunity to develop a much stronger sense of self esteem and not lose that zest for life that he had at that time.

The second time I would go back to is when I was first bullied by the kids at school. The day that he got berated in the changeroom is when I would pull him aside (See my Bullying entry on June 5th). I would tell him to not be afraid to be different and that others may not always accept that. I’ll let him know that in time, more and more people will be allies and those bullies are just insecure children who seek out others they perceive as weak and different. I’d mention that one day he will be able to celebrate the fact that he is gay.

The third time I would visit myself is when I was waiting for a bus as I left for Calgary against my parents’ wishes (See my Pride Blog Entry Why Did God Make Them That way). I would tell him that again, he wasn’t alone. I would tell him that he needed to do what he was doing to become the man he was supposed to. He would have to accept himself before expecting anyone else to accept him.

The fourth time would be the day I found out that I was HIV+. I would take him to a park and sit with him. I would tell him that he would get through this and that it wasn’t a death sentence. I would let him know that there would be a lot of stigma around this syndrome. I would tell him that it wasn’t because he deserved it or that he was a bad person (See my Pride Blog Entry “White Picket Fence and All! - Part 2"). I would mention that he is and always will be a strong person who can get through difficult times - as long as he believes in himself.

The fifth time would be when I was standing at the back window worrying that Dean might blow up my house making crystal meth (Blog called “Facing Addiction). I would tell him that the world might look bleak at the moment, but he will get through this with courage and grace. It will be difficult and there may be times when he wants to give up and that he should never, ever give up. I would say that he has so much to live for and will accomplish wonderful things.

The sixth time would be when I was struggling with codependency with my ex-husband or the next boyfriend who was also a narcissist like my ex-husband. I’ve just realized that I’ve not written about this so I will cover it tomorrow in my blog. 

I think that is the last time I would want to visit. I didn’t include my bout with cancer because, while it was difficult, I had a lot of tools that I earned in all the other situations that could help me with my diagnosis.

As I look back on my life, I see myself taking steps forward and some backward. What is promising is that I am moving ahead more than behind. I think this is the answer to my questions at the beginning of this blog. I am a sum of my experiences and I am stronger for it. 

For Pride, I am celebrating getting through life without a role model. It’s my hope that maybe there is a young gay man somewhere who could benefit from an older gay man’s experiences and build hope for their future lives.

Carpe diem. Happy Pride.

[mono-red-menace]

after my wife divorced me so i could work on my mental health, i tried to work on it without like, understanding how to. but then after i went to the hospital and had a bit of time away from the situation, i like. went to the library and found a book to help with OCD, and that gave me like, the big tool I needed to instantly like. start fixing my mentality.

and i've just been sitting here, every hour of every day, just like. hyper-focusing on my mental health.

i'm like struggling to do my hobbies because i just can't stop focusing on my mental health.

and the thing is. it's Working. i'm improving at forced rhubarb rates.

i'm recognising my behaviours i'm recognising how they're harmful i'm recognising my intentions i'm separating my emotions from my actions i'm not beating myself up for every mistake as badly i'm growing and improving at ASTONISHING rates.

and it's like. hilarious.

bc like i want to work on my hobbies but i CANT and i don't even feel Bad about it because learning and growing makes me Feel Good. i'm becoming an emotionally mature adult and it took me Twenty-[Redacted] years, but like almost all of the emotional growth is being done By Me By Myself With Only The Internet And The Library To Help Me and it's all being done in the span of like TWO WEEKS.

and like it's because i have a support group in my friends and it's because my ex-wife is treating me with so much kindness and grace, much more grace than i felt I deserved. and like

it's just hilarious. to me.

like step aside "BPD is a lifelong diagnosis, it can be treated but not cured, DBT is the best known treatment, and within 1 year 80% of BPD cases go into remission," it's been THREE WEEKS and i'm already like.

i'm so much better.

and i'm realising exactly like. how important not only a Need to get better (e.g. i just hurt someone i love and i need to fix myself), but the Support to get better (e.g. the person you just hurt telling you that they forgive you as long as you try to get better)

which makes my dad All The More Frustrating because he's had my mom to support him for Over Thirty Years and He's The Exact Same He's Been.

She's been there for him. no matter what he does. she's there for him.

and he says he wants to do better.

but he has the need (my mom) and the support (my mom), but he doesn't have the will.

and that just frustrates me. bc he's had so much more shit in his life to help him grow and become a better person, but he just Doesn't Use it because he's like. too proud to lean on even his own wife for help.

and it makes me sad for my mom that she's willing to put up with the same thing over and over and over again with only the most marginal improvements, when, me, in the same situation, i've been able to achieve insane growth, because I'm willing to take the first step.

aaaghhh

[scenearcee]

Can we get some more info about Jacqueline? Like, the story you have in mind for her, her relationship with Neivilette and the Melusines, what she did during the prophecy, etc.?

omg I am actually so glad you asked!!!!!! I wasn’t expecting there to be much interest in her!!!!!

Jacqueline was raised in a family mostly consisting of duelists, and was also expected to become a duelist alongside her brothers once she was an adult. Growing up, she was really excited about the concept, but as kids do, she also started having other interests and hobbies as well- especially wanting to be a lawyer, and an actor. This wasn’t exactly to the pleasure of her family, and as her brothers became successful duelists with their own high maintenance needs, she fell into the background. Due to this, her health needs were also ignored quite a bit, and it wasn’t until she started passing out regularly that she was even noticed by her family. She was diagnosed with POTS, as well as warned about a potential degenerative disease- preventing her from becoming a duelist at all. Lots of pressure was put on her by her family, with the logic that “if you’re not going to be a duelist, you need to be the very best that you can in another field.” Academic burnout hit her HARD, and only by the grace of her professors and tutors in primary and secondary school was she able to graduate top of her class in theatrical studies. She’s currently doing legal studies at the Palais Mermonia, and she actually got her vision at the end of a trial. She was able to prove a man innocent of murder, though it was a very difficult and convoluted process, and was rewarded for her efforts with the power of electro.

As for the prophecy, she was in the audience at the Opera Epiclese during Furina’s trial- taking notes, because of the exam she had coming up. Once it was starting to be revealed that Furina might not even be the archon in the first place however, the notebook quickly went away, and she was on the edge of her seat. As soon as the big ole Narwhal showed up, she was trapped behind some fallen support beams, and couldn’t maneuver with her forearm crutches out of there. Eventually more of the supports gave way and she was able to get out- barely even stepping outside the Opera house as Neuvillette shot into the sky. The rain was hitting her face hard, and she watched as Neuvillette deemed the people of Fontaine innocent. And of course, fantastic timing, she didn’t have much time to think about it before getting smacked with a huge wave of primordial seawater. Obviously, she didn’t dissolve, and was dragged onto the big rescue ship by a diver during the rescue effort.

After this series of events, her university life became a lot more interesting. She not only submitted the notes she took during Furina’s trial to her professors for a massive essay grade, but more and more opportunities were opening up to her- internship opportunities at legal firms. That’s not an easy decision to make, and it took her a while to do some research before picking one. But again, with fantastic timing, her professors managed to get her an internship with none other than Iudex Neuvillette- which was bound to be an interesting experience, for sure. So, she took it up, because why not. However, she regards it as her worst mistake. Not because of the workload, but rather the fact that she now has to deal with the complexities and nuances of Neuvillette’s personal life, which used to be Furina’s responsibility. And he talks about Furina specifically so very often.

What’s her relationship with Neuvillette like, you ask? Imagine the “okay grandpa let’s get you to bed” meme, because that’s essentially what it is. She deeply respects him as a person and for his authority, but if she’s alone in a room with him for too long, he starts rambling about life with Furina, oh I hope Furina got my package, Furina is such a good actress, I remember when Furina and I, etc etc. And let’s be honest, it gets on Jacqueline’s nerves big time. Especially when he is an oblivious freak with attachment issues and makes poor decisions concerning this (as he does in the fic I’m writing). She’s perfectly happy to have personal conversations with him, and be a supportive ally, but dear GOD SHUT THE FUCK UP ABOUT FURINA PLEASE. It’s not easy for her to say no to his thoughts and ideas, because unfortunately she does crave praise and academic validation, and Neuvi really is kinda becoming a father figure for her. She runs around scheduling his appointments, delivering his packages at lightning speed, escorting him to trials, and more. Neuvillette really appreciates her help with getting his affairs in order, and is grateful that she’s willing to listen to him ramble on. He offers himself as someone for her to talk to, but she’s never taken him up on the offer- even though he can tell there’s something clouding her mind. He takes extra steps to make sure that she’s fed, hydrated, and has a place to stay- she has her own little room in the Palais Mermonia! Sometimes these two will be up into the late hours of the night doing work, and enjoy some pure water after they wrap it up together and head to bed.

The melusines very quickly got around to absolutely adoring Jacqueline, and she adored them right back. Although she has other issues on land, Jacqueline is an excellent swimmer, and will sometimes escort melusines from Merusea Village to the court of justice. She’s very close with Sedene and a Melusine in Merusea village, Cherie (my other genshin oc woahh). She always makes sure to keep up with all melusine affairs, every bit of drama and that kind of thing. She’s extremely supportive of their endeavors, and will go as far as eating the food they make for people and trying their little potions and machines. She really cares about them, and always greets every single one with a lot of enthusiasm! Sedene will sometimes help out with her Neuvillette babysitting duties, and has been a supportive hand for Jacqueline in this chapter of her life.

I would talk about her relationship with Furina, but she has literally never had the chance to meet her. Oops. She holds her in very high regard though.

Now, for some basic details about Jacqueline as a person. She’s 5’2 with a limber, slightly but not really muscular stature. The muscles she does have are toned, if that makes sense. She has shoulder length black hair that she decorates with silver jewelry to hold her style in place, and her eyes are a piercing silver color. Most of the time she has a pair of forearm crutches or her cane on hand, but she does go without mobility aids sometimes. She carries salt with her everywhere, to salt her food and drinks- promoting blood pressure balance and all that jazz. Also, she is a fruitcake. Sees a pretty woman? Folds like a goddamn lawn chair. She has little fan crushes on Chlorinde and Navia, and has a MASSIVE crush on Charlotte. Talking to Charlotte is always a joy. She’s definitely very exclusively into women though, and she gets very snappy and passive aggressive with men who make passes at her. Her favorite things are ice cream with bacon, silver jewelry, feather quills, satin, women, and being rewarded for hard work. However, she HATES boring music, being interrupted, chocolate, being lied to, and having to salt everything she consumes. She has a deep fear of abandonment, and is also scared of armored crabs. She had a run-in, don’t ask too many questions.

sorry this is a lot of words!! I hope this answers your question.

[spricket-central]

heya! i suppose i better start out with a sort of intro/background post.

my apartment gets a lot of greenhouse camel crickets in it. its far from an infestation, but theyve been common visitors for years. i grew pretty fond of the little guys, and maybe a couple months ago i began toying with the idea of catching a few of them to keep as pets.

this happened suddenly on december 6th 2022 when i found crouton, my first and youngest spricket (short for "spider cricket," another name for camel crickets). i wasnt prepared with supplies yet, so i had to keep him in a badly mangled plastic tupperware for the night until i could go shopping the next day.

here's a picture of him investigating his new home!

crouton is VERY shy compared to my other sprickets, so its hard to get pictures of him. this is still one of the clearest pictures of him i have.

heres one more of crouton, demonstrating his small size.

if youve ever seen a greenhouse camel cricket before, you probably know just how big these guys get. crouton is about 1/4 - 1/3 of the size of an adult. as of writing he still hasnt molted yet while in my care, but im excited to watch him grow!

on december 11th, i was unexpectedly graced by the presence of two more sprickets, biscuit (male) and cookie (female).

heres a picture of them together in Gay Baby Jail (the small enclosure i put my sprickets in while i clean their tanks).

you can tell the two apart by the presence of an "ovipositor" on cookies rear. it looks like a big "stick." some mistake it for a stinger, as greenhouse camel crickets have a very large, slightly curved ovipositor, but its a harmless organ they use to deposit their eggs into the soil.

both were adults, and i was nervous about keeping the two with crouton because of his size, so i went out and bought a second tank for crouton to live in. hes been doing well!

biscuit and cookie ended up mating, and cookie laid a LOT of eggs.

i have no plans to start a colony, so i froze the eggs and the soil they were in for 48 hours before discarding them. i ended up regretting this decision though; cookie ended up dying only a day or two later (december 27th), presumably from age combined with the enormous effort needed to lay this many eggs in about 24 hours. i wish i had kept a few to hatch, but alas, the eggs were already dead.

i was hoping to find another female tankmate for crouton, and last night (december 30th) my wish came true.

enter, peanut!

i believe shes an adult, but if shes not shes likely close to it, as shes only the tiiiiiniest bit smaller than biscuit.

shes missing one of her jumping legs, so im extra happy to have been given the chance to take her in. i think biscuit likes her, ahaha. i cant be sure, but i believe ive observed him attempting to court her a couple of times? he would turn his back to her and start wiggling his butt rapidly while doing what looked like a little jig with his jumping legs.

peanut was not having it, and just walked away. damn girl thats cold 🤘😔

id be remiss to not take a moment to talk about biscuit on his own for a little, because he is QUITE the character, ahaha. hes so animated. ive loved bugs all my life, but i never anticipated one could have such a big personality!

...this is the 2nd time hes managed to do this.

i think thats about everything i can think of for now? i have adhd, so theres a good chance im forgetting several things i wanted to mention, but my attention span cant last any longer, so I'll end this post for now.

im looking forward to spending more time with these guys and learning more about them, and im excited to see what 2023 will bring!

[lefortunes]

003 # adults aren't our heroes.

i'm a millennial. born between the 'flower power' generation and the era after marcos. i grew up with tiger parents, a mom who didnt allow sleepovers with friends and a dad who would constantly comment that my face was dirty when i started getting breakouts -- i was twelve, and just started getting my period. aunts who didnt allow me to be in my pajamas when i ate breakfast and always had something to say when i woke wake up late, even on the weekends. teachers who always questioned why i was late for school, and made me stay in class way after dissmissal time because i couldn't finish my quizzes. these events all took place long before the term "tiger moms" were even coined by Times, long before some of the disciplnary actions brought about by the martial law babies - actions, which are now considered abusive in nature - by you.

for the most part of my life i have been an observer and subject to this kind of polarity, and saw how quickly it had changed seemingly, overnight. you'd be surprised that from where i come from, adult children are not a phenomenon but an extremely normal occurrence. children who lost (a) parent at a young age, or children who's parents were too old by the time they were born. so, by pure chance some of us are just big kids in adult bodies, 16, 18, 40, 60, or sometimes even a 100. forever unscathed by the hands of time, or by lucky chance, god's grace, (or whatever.)

but a standard is a standard. from the time we are born, we are fated to live our lives with what is expected from us. unfortunately? this isn't always the case. as we all come to know by now, everyone's life path is different. there are delays, setbacks, misadventures, obstacles or sometimes even roadblocks that prevent us from getting where we want to be. or rather, where we should be. either way, we learn later on that society expects a lot from us and that is due to society having structuter, a status quo, a mode of conduct, a moral concept.

i'm fortunate enough to have witnessed a kind of environment wherein i've grown up, experiencing first hand, the imperfections in the behaviors of adults. while these adults were extremely flawed, this kind of vulnerability only made me look at them with a sort of strength, but it wasn't the kind of strength that wasn't invincible. it was the kind of strength that made you look at a person and realised they've been through so much, and it made you respect them more. experience.

but at the same time, these adults, who were so flawed by design, who'er slowly being eaten up by the ravages of time, yet they remained, no less reveared in their stature. adults whose inner demons can give you a run from your own but were not afraid to be themselves. adults who have gone through hell and back but still remain the most kind and least judgemental, adults who taught me as early as seven years old that age is just a number;

who at times can definitely be improper, throw tantrums, and develop bad habits. i've come to an understanding that adults are not always our heroes, because more often than not ? they are hurting and need hugs too. that they can curse, cry and scream when they've had enough. that adults can make really big mistakes but still be absolved, because god is supposed to be a forgiving force, right? adults can get into fights, feuds and sometimes after an argument, wished they could've said more, yet at the same time, can still regret that they've said too much.

in their own right the adults in my life have showed me that at times, they too can be insecure, territorial, and sometimes even downright defensive, the ego has no timespan. the ego has no expiry date. adults won't always have their propriety on a leash, and whether they have a job or money is irrelevant. they can be extremely petty when they want to be. (because when the mama bear senses a threat to their pack, they'll do anything to defend it right?)

when we are young, we put these adults on a pedestal. we expect so much from the generation before us. to have it all figured out. but what if i told you, they are also still trying to figure themselves out in this world too ? because, no one really stops learning as long as we're here. and now that i am basically in an matured body myself, i have come to understand, that at our big old age, to assume that an adult cannot err; cannot fight fire with fire, lose their decorum, or is expected to always, always take the higher road and not start "beef" by default is just as shallow as expecting results that we want from them. in the end, we only lose via frustration when it's not met. every weekend, my dad would meet a friend and the takeaway would always just be chismis. he told me once that the issues, the problems, (the 'beef') and drama don't go away. "in fact, the plates only get bigger." ( he said this verbatim, right after he just made 'kuwento' about the recent drama he's overheard from two people in [redacted] ) . apparently, even boys in their late 50's - 80's can be chismos(o) too. once, a friend of my mom refused to meet with her in a certain place because a person she didnt like was also there, we had to meet her in another area. ( and, oh yeah, she's 60. ) to this day, my mom still burns bridges of friendships she's had herself.

take it from someone who's been in this world longer than you, ( take it with a grain of salt, if you will. ) but whoever said that petty shit should end in high school ? definitely LIED to you. now that i'm weeks away from ending my twenties, i understand these adults now more than ever. most importantly, i think that the true essence of being an adult is more than what is expected of us from society; or more than what the last person thinks of us, and part of adulting is coming to terms that truth: that the ones before us, aren't our heroes. what else is expected? it's just the bare minimum. the rest is just confetti.

i'll be honest with you, dear reader. adults like me? we definitely aren't your heroes. we can be the ugliest kind of petty when we want to be. the kind of petty that make's anyone else's pettiness look like child's play. because? we were raised by a generation with tiger personas, smothering hands, and iron fists, we won't give you a free pass just because you're ten, twenty or god forbid, even thirty years younger. if there's a saying that you can learn anything from anyone - well, then, i'm a usurpur of a generation that raised us not take crap from anyone. i'm a product of a generation that didn't raise sissies. full disclosure; attempting to 'find our keys' or 'push our buttons' will merely be an impetus driving force for us to find yours too.

[stevensaus]

Some people think that if a relationship is good, it will be "easy" and not be "work." They are both correct and completely wrong. As with most relationship advice, this does not apply if you are in a relationship with a bad actor or that's abusive. See the National Domestic Violence Hotline and the National Coalition Against Domestic Violence for adults, as well as Youth.gov for teens. First, all relationships require some degree of work. A partner once described it as "putting gas in the tank of the relationship." You need gas in the tank for the relationship to go. Some days one person can put in more gas. Some days it's the other(s). But -- in a healthy relationship -- everyone involved should be contributing roughly the same about. But there's a second, sneakier way that it's both completely right and completely wrong. This image, shared by Dr. Elizabeth Fedrick, illustrates: The text reads: "relationships are work" means: THIS: Learning and re-learning each other Actively pursuing each other's inner worlds & asking more questions Having vulnerable conversations Learning to manage your triggers Trying harder to find middle ground Choosing to be patient & have grace Finding ways to be safe during conflict Taking the steps to repair after conflict Learning to give & receive help Understanding that your partner's needs are valid too NOT THIS: Tolerating repeated disrespect Ongoing cycles of fighting, breaking up, and getting back together Constant criticism & trying to control Expectations of meeting their needs without being told what they are Getting "over it" when you've been hurt Going days without talking or engaging Feeling mostly discontent or unhappy Having your needs repeatedly ignored Boundaries frequently violated Constantly walking on eggshells This applies for all relationship styles. The damnable part of it is, after you've endured the right-hand (NOT THIS) column for a long time, it seems like a lot MORE work to do the left-hand (THIS) column. And for good reason. If your partner(s) are not acting in good faith, if the relationship style is confrontational rather than collaborative, then the "NOT THIS" column is what you're used to. You're used to being attacked, and anything offered as a compromise is seized wholesale. Even worse, when you're used to the "NOT THIS" category, it can be hard to see things in the "THIS" category for what they are. Your partner asking questions can be seen as argumentative or controlling. When they express their needs, it can seem like demands. And so on. I don't say this lightly; I've done it myself. As I was recovering from an emotionally abusive relationship, I became hypervigilant about protecting myself from further emotional manipulation. Any behavior that even vaguely reminded me the abuse that I suffered through got classified as abusive and manipulative ... and everything reminded me of that abuse. I really hurt some people badly during that time. People who didn't deserve it. People who cared about me and were doing their best to stay in the "THIS" category. Not only did my behavior while recovering from abuse hurt others, but it actively made my life more difficult by driving away those who cared about me. Nearly every adult person has some baggage, and has experienced the "NOT THIS" category in relationships -- sometimes due to bad actors, sometimes due to flawed people making mistakes. You must have those "THIS" conversations with the people in your relationships, particularly if they're difficult. Because if you approach your relationships from the "THIS" column, you are not guaranteed that things will go well. But if you approach it from the "NOT THIS" side, you are the person guaranteeing that the relationship will be dysfunctional. Featured Image by Moondance from Pixabay https://ideatrash.net/2024/06/relationships-require-work-but-not-like-that.html?feed_id=113&_unique_id=666c37b2976cb