#or i could use the money for other savings goals

[grunge-mermaid]

>see hand-beaded hair clip at TRC Day vendor's table >still can't afford it at annual Indigenous craft sale in December >spend 6 months from first finding it saving up for hair clip >look up business info & make note of the hours >spend 2 months trying to coordinate various schedules, gas budgets, personal energy budgets, colds, etc because the store is 50km away >finally get an opportunity even though you're still sick >get to store >sign posted in window says "by appointment only after 5pm"

😔😔😔

[islamqazal]

Hello, my name is Mohammed Nihad Ghazal from North Gaza. I have ambitions, dreams and a love for life like any young man in the world. I am supporting my family of 15 after my father was martyred in the cursed war that destroyed everything, but it seems that I will not be able to achieve my dream because of the brutal war on the Gaza Strip, which completely destroyed our home, and despite the harsh war, we did not leave North Gaza under inhumane conditions. We have suffered from illness, cold, hunger and drinking polluted water for more than 11 months, which we have suffered greatly from the loss of friends and relatives who were killed in the war for 330 days. I am appealing to you, the global community, for help. I have started a GoFundMe campaign with the goal of raising $20,000 to enable me and my family to find safety in Egypt. Evacuation fees change from time to time; we currently expect a cost of between $4,000 and $5,000 per person. Any additional funds generated will go to support my immediate needs and those of my family. There are many obstacles that we will face on the other side, and I hope that we can make things a little easier for us. I would like to share with you the situation now that the war has intensified. We are fine and safe, but life has become very difficult now around us, and people are suffering more and losing their loved ones every day. As a family, we have literally lost everything we own, our homes, ourhttps://gofund.me/f3e7e3c2 Hey there! I’m reaching out because my family and I are in a really tough spot, and any contribution you can make towards our evacuation from Gaza would mean the world to us—each donation brings us closer to safety and a fresh start. If you could click the link below to help or share it with others who might want to support us, it would make such a difference in our lives. Thank you for being so compassionate during this challenging time!

businesses, and we lost the dearest thing to us, my father, but we are trying to stay optimistic by thinking about evacuating and we heard good news today that the borders may open soon. We pray that this is true. Once we are evacuated, we will try hard to rebuild a small part of what we lost in Gaza. If we can achieve our ultimate goal, we will have the money to start a business to support our entire family. We want to be able to start over and not suffer anymore in Egypt. If everyone can help us with a small donation to achieve our ultimate goal, we will be able to rebuild our lives after everything was destroyed. All the positive words cannot express how generous you are in sharing my posts to inform other donors about the people of Gaza who are still suffering from the terrible conditions caused by the unjust war on Gaza. Please continue to support the just cause in the world either by donating directly or by sharing the link to other media. Do not hesitate to help people in difficult and miserable times until the dark days are over.

https://gofund.me/f3e7e3c2 Hey there! I’m reaching out because my family and I are in a really tough spot, and any contribution you can make towards our evacuation from Gaza would mean the world to us—each donation brings us closer to safety and a fresh start. If you could click the link below to help or share it with others who might want to support us, it would make such a difference in our lives. Thank you for being so compassionate during this challenging time!

[theambitiouswoman]

Questions To Ask Yourself If You Want To Become The Best Version of Yourself

What do I really care about? What things are really important to me?

What am I good at, and where do I need help? What am I strong in, and what could I get better at?

What do I want to achieve soon and later? What things do I want to do soon, and what are my bigger, long-term goals?

Am I trying new things and not just staying comfy? Am I doing things that might be a bit scary but good for me?

How do I deal with problems and when things go wrong? What do I do when stuff doesn't work out?

Am I nice to myself when things don't go well? Do I treat myself kindly, especially when things are tough?

How do I use my time, and what's most important? How do I plan my day, and what things matter the most?

Am I learning new stuff regularly? Do I keep finding out new things?

Do I have a good balance between work and fun? Do I make sure to have enough time for work and for things I enjoy?

Do I have good friendships and avoid bad ones? Am I friends with people who make me feel good?

Do I take care of my body? Am I eating well, exercising, and sleeping enough?

Do I think about my feelings and thoughts? Do I pay attention to how I'm feeling and what I'm thinking?

How do I deal with stress and make myself calm? What do I do when I'm stressed out?

Do I help others and make the world better? Do I do things to make people's lives nicer?

Do I have good habits and get rid of bad ones? Are there things I do every day that are good for me? Are there things I should stop doing?

Do I learn from what people say about me? When people give me advice, do I listen and try to get better?

Do I say no when I need to? Do I tell people when I need space or when something isn't okay for me?

What makes me really happy? What do I like to do that makes me feel great?

Do I use money wisely? Am I good at saving and spending money in smart ways?

Do I believe I can improve and get better? When things are tough, do I think I can get through them and learn something?Am I being kind to others and making them feel good? Do I treat people nicely and make them happy?

Do I learn from things I do wrong? When I make a mistake, do I figure out how to do better next time?

Do I try new things, even if they scare me a little? Do I give things a shot, even if they seem a bit scary?

Am I spending time with people who care about me? Do I hang out with folks who like me for who I am?

Do I eat healthy foods and move my body? Am I eating good stuff and getting some exercise?

Am I sharing and helping others when I can? Do I give stuff to others and lend a hand when I'm able to?

Am I paying attention when people talk to me? Do I really listen when others are speaking to me?

Do I take breaks and do things I enjoy? Do I give myself time to rest and do things I like?

Do I say sorry and make up if I hurt someone? When I make someone feel bad, do I apologize and try to make things better?

Do I imagine good things for myself in the future? Do I think about cool stuff I want to do?

Do I stop and relax when I'm feeling stressed? When I'm worried, do I take a moment to calm down?

Do I ask for help when I need it? Do I tell someone when I can't do something on my own?

Do I try my best, even when things are tricky? Even if it's hard, do I give it my all?

Do I pick up after myself and keep things tidy? Am I good at cleaning up and keeping things in order?

Do I use my time for things that matter most? Do I do important stuff before other things?

Do I think about good things that happened today? Do I remember all the nice things that occurred?

Am I okay with making mistakes and learning from them? Do I know it's okay to mess up sometimes and learn from it?

Do I show appreciation for the people around me? Do I let others know I'm thankful for them?

Do I take deep breaths and relax when I'm upset? When I'm mad, do I breathe and try to calm down?

Do I believe I can do better and keep growing? Do I think I can get better at things and keep getting smarter?

Am I happy with who I am right now? Do I like myself just as I am?

Do I feel okay when things don't go as planned? When stuff doesn't work out, do I stay calm?

Do I think about good things about myself? Do I focus on the nice parts of me?

Do I let go of things that make me sad? When something makes me upset, can I move on from it?

Do I notice when I'm feeling worried or scared? Am I aware of when I'm feeling nervous or frightened?

Do I believe I can do things even if they're tough? Can I do hard things if I try?

Do I try to make my mind peaceful? Do I relax my thoughts when they're racing?

Do I find things that make me feel relaxed? What can I do to feel calm and at ease?

Am I patient when things take time? Can I wait without getting upset?

Do I talk kindly to myself in my head? Do I say nice things to myself in my mind?

Am I curious about things and want to learn? Do I like to find out new stuff?

Do I think about good times and happy memories? Do I remember fun things that happened before?

Do I try to understand how others feel? Can I tell what others are feeling?

Do I imagine nice things happening in the future? Can I think about good stuff that might come?

Do I take time to rest and be by myself? Do I give myself breaks and quiet time?

Do I let go of things I can't change? Can I forget about things I can't do anything about?

Do I believe I can do things even if I don't know how yet? Do I think I can learn new things?

Do I tell myself I'm doing a good job? Do I give myself a pat on the back?

Do I stay calm even if things are really busy? Can I be relaxed even when things are crazy?

Do I know that I can make mistakes and it's okay? Do I understand that everyone messes up sometimes?

[strawberrysnipes]

[ID: 4 people sit on a set of steps, against a wooden background. The image features a young man, a young girl and a young boy all in casual clothes, and an older woman in a headscarf. a painting of watermelon slices and olive branches is edited to fade into the image from the left side. End ID]

Please, stop scrolling!

[plain text: please, stop scrolling! end plain text]

I am here on behalf of Mahmoud, who is trying to get a safe home for him and his family of 6. This includes him, his parents, and his three siblings, one of whom is only 2 years old.

Your donation could save the life of a toddler, and provide safety and shelter for an entire family.

[plain text: your donation could save the life of a toddler, and provide safety and shelter for an entire family. end plain text]

This fundraiser is extremely low on funds, but if everyone who followed me donated 10 dollars right now, we would already be at our short term goal of 8,000 dollars. We need to hit this by August 12th

i implore you, please donate what you can, even if it's just a small amount. Spend money that you would've used on something for yourself- a cup of coffee, a ticket to the movies, something you could always get again- on a family in urgent need of support.

[Plain text:i implore you, please donate what you can, even if it's just a small amount. Spend money that you would've used on something for yourself- a cup of coffee, a ticket to the movies, something you could always get again- on a family in urgent need of support. End plain text]

here(link) is the link to the go fund me, and here(link) is a link to a spreadsheet of vetted fundraisers which includes this one, you can see it in the following image

[ID: a screenshot of a google docs spreadsheet, it has been spliced in half and stacked on top of each other for better readability. The top half of the text reads 123, Mahmoud Nedal, $ USD 3,574, 50,000, 7.1%, then has a small red percentage bar. The bottom half reads Saving One Family at a Time! and a link to the go fund me. End ID]

if you send in 10 dollars or more, you will get to make 2 requests at once, starting immediately. add a request for every additional 10 dollars! please send proof of payment with your request !

[plain text: if you send in 10 dollars or more, you will get to make 2 requests at once, starting immediately. add a request for every additional 10 dollars! please send proof of payment with your request ! End plain text]

Donate and reblog as much as you can!

[Plain text: Donate and reblog as much as you can! End plain text]

@pink-sugar @djbunni @rookmeo @lavendergalactic @smilepilled

@wacklemons @hiddencircus @lucksea @llocket @naicissism

@timetravellingkitty @meaganfoster @briarhips @mazzikah @mahoushojoe 

@rhubarbspring @schoolhater @pcktknife @transmutationisms @sawasawako 

@feluka @terroristiraqi @irhabiya @commissions4aid-international @wellwaterhysteria 

@deepspaceboytoy @post-brahminism @junglejim4322 @kibumkim @neechees 

@mangocheesecakes @kyra45-helping-others @marnota @7bitter @tortiefrancis 

@toiletpotato @fromjannah @omegaversereloaded @vague-humanoid @criptochecca 

@aristotels @komsomolka @neptunerings @riding-with-the-wild-hunt @heritageposts 

@ot3 @amygdalae @ankle-beez @communistchilchuck @dykesbat 

@watermotif @stuckinapril @violentrevolution @mavigator @lacecap 

@socalgal @chilewithcarnage @ghelgheli @sayruq @northgazaupdates

[r4spb3rr13s]

HELP DONATE TO FAMILIES IN PALESTINE.

What is going on in Palestine is not a war - this is genocide. Over 35,000 are dead, and over 70,000 are fatally wounded without access to basic hospital supplies like anaesthetic or painkillers. Over 10,000 children have been killed during air raids and ground operations led by the IDF - not just by starvation or illness.

If you cannot see what is going on, I am afraid your humanity is severely lacking, and you need to take it upon yourself to educate yourself.

Why should you donate?

The bottom line is, if you can’t, then don’t. But even the smallest amount helps contribute towards these families’ goals, and helps them move towards the option for evacuation or rebuilding their lives.

If you cannot donate, or don’t feel comfortable donating, share this around. Let the message spread.

All eyes on Rafah.

I have linked a few gofundme pages below, but feel free to go on the gofundme.com website if you think there are other families you have in mind that could use your help too.

[runawaycarouselhorse]

What made both her sacrifice for her team mates’ happiness in Pocket Monsters (2019)/Pokemon Journeys episode 95 and the fact that she thought this would be her end more poignant for me is that being completely alone is what Musashi hates the most. She lost her (single) mother as a child and was never adopted, going from foster home to foster home... ;_;

After many failures (like being unable to graduate from a school meant to train literal Pokemon Nurses, because she couldn’t do what Chansey do, despite studying hard and being adept at skills like bandaging…) and having her heart broken and being disappointed (she let a boy she loved go alone so she can pursue idol dreams with some friends, who all made it… without her, so she lost a possible love for an impossible dream)…

She couldn’t bond with her partners and left them to be injured, just to save herself, during her training days at Team Rocket. She’d become selfish and self-preserving… in the Japanese version, the others called her “shinigami Musashi” according to Yamato (Cassidy), likening her to a reaper of souls… but James refused to run away, sick of living a life where he ran away from all his problems. He’d sacrifice himself for her and Meowth’s safety, getting badly injured and nearly missing their final exam, hospitalized. The first time they uttered the beginning of their motto was when she believed she was all alone again, much like in this scene… the Rockets in the Japanese version repeat the last thing someone else says as if to answer a question (the “nanda kanda to kikare tara” = “if you ask us about this or that” is mostly filler that could be substituted with anything else.)

Musashi (Jessie): (dejectedly, as she walks away alone as the final exam begins, even being questioned by Nyasu/Meowth where she’s going): Is this all that there is…?

Kojiro (James): (answering while leaning posed against a tree, covered in bandages, but they were only wrapped over his clothes so he could whip them off dramatically) If you ask us 'if this is all that there is,' our answer will be the universe’s compassion!

She’s so moved, she turns away to wipe her tears. “A team mate who won’t run away…”

I think that’s the first time they ever see her cry.

Jessie desperately wants family, belonging, that’s why she falls in love so quickly, she wants a family more than anything—James had everything material growing up, but not love… Musashi had near to nothing material growing up, BUT she had her mother’s love… until she lost her very, very early. They contrast each other! They’re soul mates, eternal partners, whether you ship them or not. Meowth, too, was orphaned as a kitten, never even named, and an outcast his whole life. He's also always falling in love easily, seeking a home... the trio should never be separated, they are each other’s sought-for home.

I think the falling snow in this scene, where she runs off in tears, after wearing a brave smile and telling James it’s okay to stay with Cassidy, is a very deliberate choice, as Jessie loves snow. One of her few happy memories of her depressing childhood is being made treats made of snow to eat. She unknowingly lost her mother in the snowy Andes mountains, seeking Mew, put into foster care, while Miyamoto tried to make money to give her a better life... glittering snow and sparkling tears…

For Meowth too, she lets him go. She just wants everyone to have their chance at love.

So, her believing she’ll end up dying alone, as she’s always feared, Musashi here laments her luck, but also has a beautiful little dream of her friends saving her.

Once again, similarly to the break-up episode of DP, she was the one who calmly and gently encouraged James to pursue a possible love. She also broke Dustox’s pokeball, in tears, not wanting her to make the same mistake she did, giving up on an attainable love for an unattainable goal (and, indeed, Jessie did not win the Grand Festival, despite her skill at Pokemon Contests… she made the right decision for Dustox’s happiness.)

Jessie loves her friends. Sure, she’s caustic, rude, temperamental, bitter, and self-absorbed, but she prioritizes love and their happiness. She doesn’t want them to be alone and abandoned the way she felt as a kid. She loves them so much so, she’s satisfied to die alone and suffer her worst fear if it meant they get to be happy. That’s self-sacrifice.

She doesn’t resent them one bit, saying it’s a nice dream when she thinks she’s imagined them saving her life… she thought it was her mind comforting her before her death, accepting her fate, rather than realizing it’s effectively a premonition of what will be reality… and when she realizes?! She initially reproaches them, looking mad, because she thought they abandoned their happiness for her! But no, things didn’t work out… this is where they’re meant to be: by each other’s side.

James also knows how much marriage means to her, even though he’s so traumatized by it, the word “fiance” triggers literal flashbacks for him and he climbed up a tree to get away from a teenaged girl who called him that. Yet, in XY episode 63, where she fell for Dr. White...

Kojiro: (with head down, eyes shadowed) If Musashi (Jessie) wants to pursue her happiness as a woman, shouldn't we give her our blessing?

Nyasu also had his misfortunes in love... they sympathize and empathize.

"Let's show her we're men and leave without saying anything..."

As Kojiro runs away, he sheds tears, wishing her happiness and bidding her farewell, silently. The scenes in these two episodes are clear parallels.

But in the end (including the final episodes, as rushed as that plotline was although I still loved Wobbuffet acting exactly like a troubled child of parents going through a messy divorce), they’ll always realize their happiness is by each other’s side as a trio.

"Sometimes you get good pulls, sometimes you get bad ones. Sometimes they're good, even if you think they're bad. Sometimes they're bad, even if you think they're good."

[emma-needs-attention]

I don’t shave every day. It’s not that I don’t “need” to; I have very dark, dense facial hair that grows quickly and remains pretty visible after shaving. When I do shave, I don’t try to cover it with makeup (beyond some powder to reduce redness). In most other ways I present very feminine, but I always have fairly obvious facial hair.

And it makes me feel terrible.

I started electrolysis a couple months ago. It’s excruciatingly painful, expensive, and it takes forever. In an hour-long session, my electrologist is able to remove hair in only a small region (about 1 square inch). A few weeks later, much of that hair comes back. I am told that it will take two to three years of regular treatments to remove it entirely. On top of that, I apparently have a condition called Post Inflammatory Hyperpigmentation, which causes the skin in affected areas to darken after treatment. For nearly two months after completing a single pass over my upper lip, my mustache was more visible than it had ever been, despite having significantly less hair.

And it made me feel terrible.

I know this is the best way for me to permanently remove my facial hair, but I just canceled all of my upcoming sessions and at the moment I have no plans to begin again.

If I could pay to have my facial hair instantly and completely removed I would empty my savings account. I am intensely aware of it any time I go out in public. If it makes me so uncomfortable, why do I not do more to hide it?

I feel incredibly privileged for a trans woman. I have a loving, supportive family. I have a well-paying job. I live in a very accepting area. I have never had a single person say anything negative to me about my gender identity, which was certainly not what I was expecting when I came out. It is important to me that I be visibly queer, and in my privileged position I am able to do that without fear. A year ago I didn’t think I would ever transition; now I want people to know that I’m trans.

I am disappointed with myself for wanting to remove my facial hair, for changing my voice. I am determined not to have to do more work than a cis person does. Cis women don’t have to shave their face every day. Cis men don’t have to shave their face every day. Why should I? This is who I am, what my body does. Shouldn’t I be proud of that? Am I not supposed to love myself the way I am?

But by that logic, why am I even transitioning in the first place?

I am doing more work than a cis person does. Cis people don’t transition, and transitioning takes effort. I know that there are cis people, both men and women, who do shave every day. Am I lying to myself? I’m a trans woman; aren’t I supposed to want to get rid of my facial hair? Shouldn’t I be trying harder? Doesn’t this give me dysphoria? Am I pretending not to have dysphoria so I don’t have to put in the effort? Does the fact that I’m not trying harder make me… I don’t know, less trans? Non-binary? Is it ok for me to call myself a trans woman? Am I lying to myself?

As a woman who was a man until thirty, there are things about my body that I must accept, that I won’t be able to change no matter how much money I dump into my transition. I’m tall, I have broad shoulders, I have large hands. No amount of surgery or hormones will change these things.

But there are many things that I can change, and while none of them are requirements for being a woman, they may still be changes that I want to make. Where do I stop? Am I finished transitioning when I’ve done everything that is physically possible? My goal isn’t to “pass,” at least not in the way that word is generally used. In a time when cis women are being assaulted because people think they’re trans—because they don’t “pass” as women—the idea of what it means to pass becomes blurry. Often when we say that we want to pass, what we really mean is that we want to be conventionally beautiful.

I am a woman. Therefore, I look like a woman. My transition goal is to pass as myself. I’ve spent the last year trying to figure out who I am so I can look like her. I don’t care whether people see me and think “that’s a woman.” I want to be able to look in the mirror and think “that’s me.” But it can be extremely difficult to separate your own image of yourself from society’s idea of what you should look like. Am I self-conscious about the size of my body because it doesn’t feel like me, or because I’ve been told that women should be smaller? There are tall cis women, there are broad-shouldered cis women, there are cis women with large hands. Those traits don’t make them less womanly.

For the aspects of my body that I do have control over, I am stuck wondering whether I am changing things to become myself, or changing them because I have internalized that the way I am is wrong. At the moment, facial feminization surgery is something that I think I might like to do. But how do I know that I want to do it for the right reasons? I don’t hate my face, but when I catch a glimpse of myself from certain angles I can’t help but think that it isn’t feminine enough. What I should be asking is if it’s Emma enough, but how can I know that? How do I know who I’m supposed to be?

I feel like I was supposed to be a cis woman, but… why? Who am I to say that I wasn’t supposed to be trans? That I wasn’t supposed to transition at thirty, to have both a male puberty and a female one? Being trans has made me more self-aware, more open-minded, more empathetic. The totality of my experience is what makes me who I am. Maybe there’s a world in which I was assigned female, maybe there’s a world in which I was put on puberty blockers as a kid. But the girl in those worlds isn’t me.

Loving yourself and wanting to change are two feelings that can coexist. I tend to think of body positivity as simply accepting yourself as you are, but it is more nuanced than that. As a trans person, who I am inside is not the same as who I am outside. Which one am I supposed to love? I do love myself, but I also love who I could be. I’m transitioning so that someday they’ll be the same person.

Over the past year I have become both my biggest supporter and my biggest critic. I constantly tell myself how pretty I am, how brave I am, how fucking cool I am (hey, nobody else is saying it and it’s true). This forced positivity has been fantastic for me. I can confidently say that I truly love myself for the first time in my life. But I sometimes feel guilty that I don’t love myself more.

I can’t help but stare at myself in the mirror all the time now. I actually bought a new mirror so I didn’t have to walk as far to do so. I’ve taken more selfies than I did in my entire pre-transition life. After many months on HRT, I finally see myself in my reflection. But my eyes refuse to focus on my stubble. Sometimes I catch myself thinking “I’m going be so beautiful once I get rid of this facial hair,” and it feels like a betrayal. Fuck you Emma, I’m already gorgeous.

[tangledinink]

Hello sorry for tagging. I am very sick, my asthma is at its maximum level, my nose freezes, I have no medicine or food. I am in bad shape financially, I am a black disabled, who uses multiple medications, I pay for my food and lodging

Unfortunately I do not have all the resources to keep me safe, that is why I need your help, whatever you can contribute to me will be of great help.

Okay kids, are you ready for a lesson in SPOTTING ONLINE SCAMS????

*please don't message this person or harass them-- i do recommend that you report and block them, however.

right now it's incredibly important to give time, attention, and money to online fundraisers. but it's also incredibly important not to let scammers take advantage of that and steal money that could actually save lives right now.

firstly-- if we go to this person's blog, and navigate to "archive--"

this person's blog has only existed for a few days, only has a handful of generic posts (many reblogged multiple times,) and made their first reblog the same day that they posted their "fundraiser" post. this is a MASSIVE red flag.

please also note that neither their ask nor post actually mention palestine or gaza at all, but it's still tagged with "free palestine" and "gaza."

though this one should obviously be taken with a grain of salt, it is also worth noting the poor grammar here, because this can be (but isn't always!!!) another red flag. Note also that all the details are really vague and don't quite make sense... user describes "enduring cold" and their "nose freezing" though it's the middle of the summer. This user says that they're "sick," but doesn't really offer any further details about this. This user says that they need money for "resources," but don't elaborate on what exactly they need. They vaguely elude to a need for lodging, caretakers, and medicine, but don't actually give us any details-- despite this they have a "$1200" goal. What is this specific goal of $1200 for? Is that the cost of their medication? Overdue medical bills? Cost for rent this month?... They also apologize in their ask for "tagging" me... but they didn't tag me. They sent me an ask.

Another red flag is that their link labeled "Fundraiser link" leads directly to a Paypal donation page rather than a gofundme or anything else. If someone chooses to collect aid through paypal, venmo, etc. instead of through a gofundme, that's not a huge issue in and of itself... but it is fishy that it's mislabeled like this.

And if we GOOGLE this user's tumblr name or paypal name, we can find results like this:

This also led me to find them on @/kyra45's blog on their list of current scam accounts.

Despite all this, they have close to 100 reblogs from well-meaning people trying to signal boost and ask for donations on their behalf.

With the current situation in Palestine and the amount of actual, legitimate fundraisers and donations being circulated right now, for Palestine, Sudan, the Congo, or otherwise, it is more important than ever to be aware of people who are trying to take advantage of the situation for their own personal gain. Whenever possible, please take the time to do some due diligence when you receive messages like this and check to see if a fundraiser is legitimate! It always sucks for someone to be the victim of a scam and lose money to someone playing pretend on the internet... but it sucks even more when that money could have gone to people in actual, acute, dire need.

Here's some more information about spotting scams on tumblr! Shoutout to tumblr user kyra45 for compiling this, and for all the other hard work they do-- thanks.

Here's an actual, vetted, and legitimate campaign that could use your support. After receiving this ask, I went and donated. If you have the means to do so, it would be amazing if you did so, too.

[ see ALL gaza funds campaigns here ]

[lonniemachin]

I was asked to help share Maram's fundraiser. She is a young displaced Palestinian mother urgently raising money to evacuate she and her family from Gaza. She has only raised €225 out of her €30,000 goal so far! Please share and donate, and if you can't donate, please still share!

From Maram's GFM:

‏Hi, my name is Maram. I am 28 years old. I am a Palestinian from Gaza City.A mother for 3 kids. This is my husband, Ahmed, and my children are Habiba, four years old, kareem, two years old, and Mohammad, nine months old. ‏My family and I went through very difficult circumstances in Gaza after October 7th ‏

It’s painful to say that we lost everything. But yes

we did! We lost our beautiful homeland with all its memories, we lost our job, we lost our lives and our dreams. We evacuated our house with only a small bag of clothes before it was bombed and destroyed. So technically YES we have lost EVERYTHING, from the biggest to the smallest little detail.

We have been displaced 6 times. My children left our home for the first time and moved to another home, and then we moved with the family to another, less safe home. Then the army ordered us to flee to southern Gaza, so we fled to the ground, then we ended up fleeing to a small tent and sleeping on the sand. ‏

My family suffers from a lack of food, especially ‏the children. My child, Mohammed, who is 9 months old, ran out of breast milk due to malnutrition, and the price of infant formula has doubled. Kareem and Habiba saw the simplest thing that could be available to children, which is apples, so they screamed and cried, wanting an apple, but the price of one apple reached 10 dollars or more!! ‏In addition, there was also a lack of healthy drinking water, which caused them severe stomach pain and diseases such as hepatitis A.

‏Due to the conditions imposed by the occupation, the siege, and the lack of resources, it has become difficult for my family to provide the children with basic and simple needs, such as diapers. It is difficult to provide all the needs, and due to the poor quality of the types of diapers available, my children suffered from a skin problem ‏ My family also suffers from not having a bathroom or even a shower. We can only shower once a month using a bucket due to lack of water. There is no electricity or gas either. ‏Every morning, I wash my children's clothes in cold water and spread the clothes out in the open air. If there is food, it is cooked on firewood, which is completely unhealthy and tastes bad. Me and my husband shared a beautiful life together. Our home was always filled with love and laughter. My children are the most precious thing I have in my life. ‏ Our lives were once full of dreams and hopes, but the never-ending cycle of conflict in Gaza shattered those dreams. Now our only goal is to survive. ‏ While others dream of the future, we long for the past, remembering the life we once lived before the horrors of war tore it apart.

‏I have hesitated to ask for financial assistance for several months, but the reality is that life in Gaza has become impossible in the near future. With schools destroyed and opportunities disappearing, our only chance for a better life lies beyond these borders. ‏ My only hope is to save my little family and we need €30,000 to make it out of Gaza, to start a new life from scratch. It is very difficult to leave homeland, but we are forced To get out of Gaza. Your kindness can make a big difference to us. Your donation, no matter how small, will help us escape the constant fear and uncertainty that has plagued our lives for so long. If you're not able to donate, simply sharing our campaign with your friends, family and social networks can also have a huge impact. ‏Together, we can give my children the opportunity to grow up in a world free of the horrors of war. Your kindness will help us build a brighter future and restore hope to a family that has endured so much suffering. ‏ Thank you from the bottom of our hearts for your sympathy and support! Your contributions will not only change our lives, but will also provide hope to countless people affected by similar circumstances.

[epickiya722]

I have thoughts!

I doubt Izuku went eight years being Quirkless.

For one thing, after the Final War, he still had two years of high school left. I doubt all that time he used One For All continously when he have to focus on schoolwork and had more time to actually wind down since the major villains of the story have been dealt with. So there would be times he wouldn't have to use OFA like that.

Last chapter, we can see he still has OFA.

I would say it would be more recently that he lost OFA.

Note that here, Izuku says "recent times". This is just happening now that his class has reached their goals of what they wanted to accomplished. From Ochako and the others creating a program to help people to Mezo getting an award.

When this came...

I figure this can interpreted as Aizawa asking about his Quirk and being a Hero on the field or just his time in school when everything was happening.

Why some of the fandom took this as abandonment is beyond me. "We started working..."

Folks, Class A would be 24 - 25 years old... they would have just started to be Pro Heroes probably three years or later if you consider their "college years" would be the time they would be sidekicks and working to having their own agencies. Probably some of then even living together to save money and whatnot.

A teacher is fitting for Izuku as he is still encouraging others and it reflects even how All Might, his mentor, was one. He knows he'll be Quirkless again, a job as a teacher is ideal for him.

You need a bachelor's degree to be a teacher, which takes four years. So from probably age 18 to 22, Izuku worked for that degree to be a teacher. Meaning that time, he necessarily didn't have to use OFA, if he still had it. And he could have also been doing the sidekick thing on the side.

Present Mic is an example of a character who has multiple occupations, so I don't doubt that Izuku couldn't have done sidekick work and studies at the same time.

Therefore, he would have been a teacher for 3 years at the moment at this point.

Now, given that a school like UA exists, where they taught Heroics, business, engineering, etc. There could have been colleges like that. So class A could have went to the same college and still hung out, including Izuku.

Point is what I'm saying is, because of what Izuku's schedule may have looked like, I doubt he lost the embers of OFA that fast. Yes, he most definitely lost them, but like overnight? Yeah, no.

And him being abandoned? Some of you took a hold of the steering wheel and whipped it way too hard to the left. They definitely still talked. They just got busy with their jobs and hectic schedules.

"How dare they not tell Izuku about the project?!"

... IT WAS A PLEASANT SURPRISE, HELLO?! Have none of you gotten something nice as a surprise before???

[pinkish-orange]

I'm so tired of seeing people defending celebrities. I'm tired of seeing people even being their fans.

People saying that it's not their fault there's a genocide going on, that attending the Met Gala or not won't change what's happening. BUT IT DOES, THEY COULD CHANGE WHAT'S HAPPENING.

Each met gala ticket costs 75k. To cross the Egypt border it costs 5k per person. Each ticket could have saved at least 15 people, multiple families. There's countless GoFundMe families far away from their goal. This money could have literally saved lives.

And this isn't just about Palestine. There's people dying from starvation and poverty every second, every year, and you don't even have to look at other countries. There shouldn't be this kind of celebrations (oscars, met gala, superbowl) happening while there's so much people dying and suffering from things that could be easily changed if the rich simply cared.

Like a girl said over tiktok, no, they don't have to help anyone, but why don't they want to?

Every celebrity who attended the met gala is a horrible person. And I don't care if people disagree with me on this right now but I hope that, with time, people will stop treating them like they are people just like us. They're not like us, they live in a different reality. And if they don't care about us, we shouldn't care about them. I hope people stop giving them attention. I don't care who the fuck wore the best dress, just today I saw a baby from Gaza with half of her body smashed.

I don't care about the celebrities that portraied my favorite characters, I don't care about any famous singer, people like Lana Del Rey (a zionist) or most of MCU actors. Fuck them.

Free Palestine. Eat the rich.

[monkey-wrench-series]

One month on; The future of Monkey wrench as a fully animated indie series.

It’s been exactly one month since Ep 3 of Monkey was released to the public, and as the ever want to be as transparent as possible with indie production it’s time we sat down and had a very important discussion on the future of the series…

So, as we said above, one month has passed from the public release of episode 3, and everything hinges on how well it does.

Below are the metrics for it on Youtube;

Our hope was to have ep 3 hit 500k in two weeks. After 31 days we’re still under 470k views, ad rev as you can see is pitiful and engagement has evaporated. Maybe we set our hopes a little too high?

It’s not all doom and gloom though, this is the first ep to get this many views in this amount of time. Our patreon support has grown by 1/3 after the ep came out and our Scratch & Scritch plushies did ok, see images below;

So as of now, we have enough money for voices, sound and music for episode 4. Voice recording begins next week and I hope to start the animatic for the ep sometime after.

As for the animation portion of production… things are looking a little tricky.

As you should know, animation, especially frame by frame stuff like we do, it’s obscenely time intensive and expensive. For ep 3 we had a rough animation rate of $20.83 per 1 second of animation and the same for clean up with very minimal edits and redos.

Seeing the recent animation pay discourse has honestly shaken us up pretty bad, we had no idea how pitiful our pay had been compared to other indies and we in no way want to exploit anyone for their work on the series.

With both Ash and I putting everything we had saved in Eps 1, 2 and 3 and seeing how below average they’ve all performed and with how little we can afford to pay our animators, on top of burning myself out horrifically doing 3 eps in a row, we’ve sadly had to come to the conclusion that full animation for this series is no longer financially possible at our current support level.

That does not mean we’re stopping production, however.

There are two possible routes we can take;

Route 1; Animatic hybrid.

Over the past week and a half I managed to solo out 5 minutes and 15 seconds of animatic keyframe animation for our recently released outtakes video.

At our current support level I can do the animatic keyframe route for most of the mundane stuff in an ep, and then go into full animation for the ‘good bits’, that way we can pay our animators an actual decent wage. Over time if our support grows we can return to full animation.

Route 2: Kickstart ep 4 for $100k

We have thought about doing a kickstarter type thing to get the $100,000 we’d need for the animation portion of the ep. We want to pay our animators properly for their time and skill and this would be the best route to go if we want to have ep 4 fully animated.

However with our current viewership and engagement with eps 1, 2 and 3 I’m not sure we could hit a goal of $100,000 in the 30 days we need.

Is it a risk worth taking?

What would we do for rewards?

Physical rewards would take money away from animation production and things like animated rewards would take time away from myself working on the ep.

That’s pretty much where my mind has been at the past few days. I’d love to hear your input and thoughts on how you would like us to proceed.

[pirateprincessblog]

Blue Paradise

𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫.: the news of park seonghwa, your best friend's brother you haven't seen in years, joining your birthday trip to maldives doesn't excite you the slightest. so far.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: park seonghwa x reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 19.5k

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: smut, bit of angst, summer love, innocent but curious seonghwa, experienced reader, childhood friends, a little sadist reader, almost a milf, subby seonghwa

𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: oral (both receiving), public, submissive seonghwa, dominant reader, gagging

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: swearing, nsfw scenes, mentions of eating disorder, mentions of body dysmorphia

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: use of the word noona! i'm not a koreaboo i promise, and i don't care if you think it's cringe, the word noona has a special grip on me. eternal sunshine prettiest boy seonghwa is the one i'm writing about in this piece <33 my sadistic side is showing a little here. also ???????

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐲.

when you said the words i'm fine out loud, you weren't sure if you were trying to convince the group of girls in front of you, or yourself. you weren't angry. nor sad. you were simply disappointed. the notebook you were subconsciously gripping in your lap contained all the plans and goals that were now impossible to fulfill. just two days before leaving your hometown and visiting the sweet tropical delight, nearly all the people from your friend group decided they wouldn't be going. the trip was paid by you, as a celebration for your birthday.

maybe you chose the wrong location. or the wrong time. or just the wrong people. it didn't matter. you could say goodbye to the printed images of the blue water and the clear sky in the notebook, along with the idea of swimming with sharks or drinking straight out of a coconut. you worked hard to save up for this celebration. hours of working even after your shift was done, drowning in sweat and running home just for a few extra dollar bills. little by little, you saved up for all the tickets. true, your parents did give you money here and there. but you have your little hobbies and dirty pleasures, and oh, you just love desserts and dresses. it's not easy to save up when the marketing teams of your favorite stores work harder than you or your parents. how can you not buy that tight bright pink sequin dress with the feathery sleeve ends? and the heels which come in half price if you buy the matching bag? what a steal.

your eyes scan the room, looking for the slightest sign of guilt on their faces. yet, not a single one was visible. you wished to rip their plane tickets in front of their faces, throw the notebook at the girl who proposed the idea of rather staying home instead of getting drunk in a whole different location far from home. you witnessed their excitement, screaming and yelling when you announced the trip. then, what happened?

"we're sorry, but-"

"you're not sorry. you just want the feeling of guilt to disappear. that is, if you're feeling guilty at all." you interrupt, your tone pure frost.

your best friend cups your hand, making you soften the grip on the notebook. in other circumstances, she is the one who does the talking. but today, she is willingly letting you handle it. you've had enough of everyone using you and reaching out to you only when they need something.

"it's not like we took any money from you. you're acting like we robbed you or something." the girl says, looking at the rest of the group and asking for support.

"not directly, you didn't." your face stays stone cold. "but cancelling this late means i cannot get a refund. or real friends to go with me."

they all scoff in disbelief, some of them already angry and ready to start spitting insults. you don't care. you're ready for everything they have to throw at you.

"real friends? are you fucking with me?"

you feel like you're in a euphoria episode. and yes, it is as fun as it looks. especially when you know damn well you're right, and they're wrong. you watch them yell at you, accusing you of accusing them, making up a thing or two along the way, even getting into your face and pointing into your chest. you watch with a lazy smile, which only enrages them more. each moment that passes, they're only proving you right. they were here just for the money. if you asked them your favorite colour, they'd just look at each other helplessly. but if you asked them how much your parents have given you for christmas, they'd know to the last cent.

"you know what? fuck your parents, your trip, your money and your fake ass."

and just like that, you were left alone with the only true friend in the big house. the appetizers were untouched, and so were the cocktails. you feel a hand wrap around your shoulders.

"we'll figure something out. i won't let anyone ruin your birthday."

you smile, this time sincerely. it takes less than fifteen minutes to lift your spirits. with your friend saying stupid things in a normal tone, it's easy to come out of the shell. you're already opening your notebook again, scribbling over the names that were once involved, and adding up new plans.

"you know, we have to go swimsuit shopping. i'm still bloated from the period, and i don't think it'll pass until the trip. the plane ride will only make it worse."

you agree, already picturing the colour and shape you'd want to wear. but still, what to do with the remaining tickets? the amount of money is too huge to just let it go. you can't ask your parents to come, they're busy with a recent project that is supposed to help their business. you can't think of any other friends, and there's no way in hell you'll bring your sibling. constant bickering is something you wish to leave for home, not bring to the maldives.

"what do i do with the tickets?" you mumble, your head now lying on top of the notebook. you feel helpless. at this point, you want to cancel and never go anywhere again.

"well, you might kill me for this, but i have an idea."

you turn your head to the side, cheek pressing into the notebook. your friend is sprawled over the couch upside down, her feet resting on top of the backrest and her head hanging from the seat. she dramatically chews the chips, purposely dragging it out to tease you.

"come on now, we have a little over twenty four hours from the flight. i'm begging you, give me a solution that will save my money."

the girl finally swallows the chips, then looks up at the ceiling.

"when was the last time you visited my home?"

not sure how that is connected to her idea, you raise an eyebrow in confusion. "i can't remember. your parents usually come over here instead of us coming over. why?"

"well, you do know that i have a brother?"

"that i do." you laugh, remembering the little rascal. even though he was younger, he never hesitated to flip you both off when you bothered him, or kick you in your knees if you even looked at him the wrong way. ever since he enrolled to a high-school in a city nearby, you barely saw him. then, he went to college. he comes over every other weekend, but sometimes not even that. it's been many years since you've last seen him. "little park seonghwa."

"not so little now," she laughs, "i think he's, like, taller than your dad."

"impossible. he was shorter than me last time i saw him."

"yeah, because he was eleven."

you roll your eyes. she's right, but you'd rather eat scrapped toast burns than admit it. you hear the leather of the couch squeaking, then footsteps. she sits next to you on the floor, then pulls the notebook towards herself without warning. your head follows the notebook, almost falling off and hitting the edge of the table. you glare at her, but she just giggles mischievously.

"i thought, we could invite him and his friends."

"invite your little brother with us? to the maldives?"

she nods, not seeing anything wrong with it. your brain is already listing out what things are out of question and impossible.

"first of all, he's like, fifteen."

"he's twenty-four."

"he's basically a kid." you ignore her, sticking to your own idea as if you know her brother better than her.

"you'd be surprised how much of an adult he is now. little turd still gets on my nerves, but he has come a long way. he even hugs me sometimes."

you sigh. in your head, he is still the little eleven year old seonghwa with blue shorts and the green polo shirt. seonghwa with the blue crocs and a dirty ipad. seonghwa who would enter the room without knocking just so he could wipe his boogers on your clothes. gross.

"fine, let's say he comes along. am i supposed to wear a bikini in front of him?"

"that's normal! it's just a bikini. besides, i haven't seen him make a move on a girl since he got roasted by one for his hair at homecoming."

you can't help but feel bad for the poor boy. your brain forms an unwanted image of seonghwa, all dressed up and fixed for his date, only for his date to bring him down in front of everyone.

"i did not need to imagine that." you mumble to yourself, then try to take the pen from your friend. "give me that."

"no, wait! he has like seven friends, so one ticket will still be an extra. still better than all nine going to waste, right?"

"right."

"so,

seonghwa takes mel's ticket,

wooyoung takes lara's ticket,

mingi takes josie's-"

"hold on, hold on. they're all boys?"

"men, yes."

you close your eyes and pinch the bridge of your nose. you try to breathe, but the idea of taking literal kids to such an expensive vacation is driving you crazy.

"i'm going there to get drunk, get a tan and fuck somebody in my pretty pink dress, maybe even get scissored by you, not to babysit your brother and his friends. and what the fuck are those names, are they forming a kpop group?"

the girl laughs, her head falling back against the sofa behind you. all of this is so hilarious to her, while you're feeling like it's a bad dream that'll be gone if you pinch yourself enough.

"first of all, very flattering, i appreciate that. i'll think about the offer. second, you're literally just a couple years older than them. and third, they're more than capable of getting more drunk than you and fuck someone, just like us."

there wasn't any space to think about it. it's either spending the week guarding kids from getting alcohol poisoning or spending the week feeling guilt because of the lost money.

"fine."

"oh? just like that?"

"what other choice do i have? let the kids have fun."

she giggles, then finishes the scribbling on the page. you scan over the names, then the female ones that were crossed out. you feel your heart tighten, but remembering that you got rid of something you didn't need the whole time, you feel at ease.

"i'll tell them to come over tomorrow, just so you can meet them and tell them the plan."

"yeah, that'd be great."

the rest of the day is spent outside, visiting various stores and trying on various swimsuits. all of them were extremely exposing, something you weren't quite used to. still, you managed to gain the confidence and buy a risky set. a baby pink set with panties that had a lower cut than you preferred, along with a shiny waist chain, and a decent bra. the summer heat waves were more than present, causing people to run into stores just to cool off, including the two of you.

after an ice cream, a few burgers and slushies, you finally collapsed on your bed. it wasn't long until your alarm clock had your eyes peeling open. you had slept for almost nine hours, yet it felt like ten minutes.

your friend was supposed to be here around dinner, bringing takeout and the boys with her. you made a deal that the boys could sleep over, so that you can drive to the airport together without having to wait for anyone. you packed all day, proudly stacking your bikinis for each day of the week. the pink one was reserved for the day of your birthday, the shiny chains carefully placed in the corner so they don't get broken in transit.

you had just packed your backpack, changed into a dress that didn't stick to your skin, letting your it breathe and get a relief from the hot summer evening. you admired your skin, wishing for it to stay that clean during the following week. you had refrained yourself from eating chocolate for three whole weeks, and the results finally showed up. you were proud of yourself for not picking on it, and decided to keep a count for it. it'll make you happy when you see a progress each morning.

deep voices travel to your ears, a sign that they have arrived. you didn't expect them to sound this grown up. you expected those soft boyish voices, that match their boy body structures. but once you reach the bottom of the stairs, you stop breathing for a moment. these weren't boys. not at all.

they were men.

eight tall men stood in your living room, patiently waiting and helping your best friend sort out the food orders. one of them stood extra close to her, telling off others if they get too close. could it be?

and as if he knew what you were thinking, he turns his head, eyes looking directly into yours. you stand there, not moving a muscle. you are scared to breathe. a sudden wave of anxiety washes over your body. these were all grown men foreign to you. and then it hits you.

they're all going on a vacation with you. they'll all see you in a bikini, in your dresses, they'll see you drink. they'll probably see you get railed somewhere behind a club. they'll probably see you at your worst when you're near alcohol. fuck.

"oh, there you are! i was already starting to go mad with all these male alphas." she turns to look at them, and one of them sticks his tongue out at her. "let's eat first and then you'll do the introduction and all that shit."

park seonghwa doesn't avert his gaze from you. he smiles, sending you a little wave from across the room and giving you the prettiest eyes you've ever seen in your life. the sparkly irises wake up a volcanic eruption in your stomach; something you haven't felt in a while. the boy- young man- sits down on the floor, his back resting against the sofa. seeing your frozen state, the girl comes towards you, hands resting on your shoulders.

"look, i know it's a bit much for you, and you definitely didn't expect them to look or act this mature and intimidating, - and, well, bulk - but give them a chance. they're really nice and comfy to be around."

you nod, then skim over the group once again. they're all wearing short sweats with basic t-shirts, yet you feel under-dressed. you wished you put something nicer on, like that green flower dress or-

"come on, now. your food is getting cold."

they have spared a seat for both of you on the other sofa, along with a set of forks and plastic plates.

"my friend is a little shy, give her a moment," she announces, and pretends to not notice you glaring from the side. "anyways, enjoy your meals."

everyone eats in silence, occasionally murmuring something among themselves. you take the moment when you're out of focus to scan each one of them. they were all built athletically, with their t-shirts straining against their muscles and the thighs occasionally flexing as they laughed or spoke. then, you stopped at seonghwa. his dark hair was softly falling over his eyes, and his bright teeth showed up every now and then whenever his friends spoke. you watched his hands spin the fork to get the spaghetti easier into his mouth, the veins on his arms distracting you from your own food. he brings the food to his lips, eating in a way so polite, chewing with his mouth closed and no messy ketchup accidents. you were amazed that this man is the little seonghwa with boogers smeared on his star wars t-shirt.

he catches your gaze again, this time smiling wider than before.

"noona, how have you been?"

you wish to bury your face between the sofa cushions. the name he once used to call you because his mother made him, was now used because he himself wanted to. why else would a grown man call you that in the place far from his homeland, where that labeling is not necessary?

"good, seonghwa. very good." you manage to say, cheeks burning as he smiles sweetly at you. "what about you?"

"i've been good, noona. pushing through college, trying not to drop out."

"says the guy with all of his exams at not lower than ninety-five percent," his friend scoffs.

he earns himself a nudge in the ribs, then whines dramatically.

"jongho, you're basically in kindergarten." your friend teases, and the young man acts offended.

"just because i'm the youngest-"

"so, seonghwa's sister's best friend, exactly where are we going and what will we be doing?"

you laugh at the addressing, then set the plate aside. the focus is on you, and your head becomes dizzy for a moment. you feel lost in time and space, and it takes you a while to get back to reality. you're there, surrounded by nine people who are waiting for you to speak instead of staring blankly. it takes one knee pat from your friend to assure you that it's okay to speak, and that they'll listen.

"we'll be staying at bungalows, the small ones you see on insta all the time. which means two to three people per one. i'll make the list later, so we can settle as soon as we arrive and not lose time on organizing."

you continue to explain your plans, but make sure to tell them they're not obligated to follow what you had in mind. still, they all seemed amazed at your ideas that none of them protested. by the end of the meal, the conversation had gone from stiff to comfortable, with multiple people talking and you feeling confident enough to speak up when needed.

"seonghwa is scared of sharks, what do we do about that?"

"i'm not, you dipshit."

"language," you laugh, looking at the bickering young men in front of you.

"sorry, noona," and there it is, the sickeningly sweet smile again. he does it so naturally, it has your heart fluttering.

the conversation about sharks and how harmless they are continues, and your focus shifts on the dessert they brought. you ate a whole plate of your favorite takeout meal, and drank almost three glasses of soda. would they think you eat too much if you took just one cupcake?

you reach for the red velvet delight, your eyes focused on your friend as she scolds the boys for the unnecessary swearing and dirty comments. your fingers brush against something cold, and you look down to find seonghwa reaching for the same cupcake as you. he sees you hesitate, so he splits the dessert in half, leaving the bigger one for you on the plate. you give him a smile of gratitude, then lean back into the leather and listen about dinosaurs and chickens and how they're related.

almost two and a half hours later, you notice them getting sleepy. they help you pick up the trash from the dinner, and then stand in front of you, as if waiting for orders.

"i'll pull out these sofas for four of you, and the other four can fight about two guest bedrooms with a couple bed."

seven of them call dibs, running upstairs to the rooms and fighting along the way.

"like i said, kids."

"oh, i don't think kids can do this."

you look at seonghwa, who was fine with sleeping on a pullout sofa, and raise your eyebrows with amusement, and amazement, as he flexes his arm in front of you. your expression is probably priceless. the veins traveling along his muscular arms are giving you trouble breathing, or existing at all.

"stop flexing in front of my friend, you idiot. she's not impressed."

"right," he says, clicking his tongue and laughing when he gets hit by a pillow. "i'll take it from here. you go rest, noona."

seonghwa takes the covers and pillows from you, making sure to brush his fingers against yours once again, looking into your eyes with a smile while doing so. he could step on you and smile like that, you'd ask him to do it again.

"oh, it's not a problem." you insist.

your friend clicks her tongue, then rolls her eyes. she puts her hands on your shoulders, gently pushing you upstairs to your room.

"if the little turd wants to set up his bed, let him. that's the only use you'll have of him this whole trip."

"i love you too!"

and that's the last thing you hear from him before going inside your room. voices echo through the hallway, coming from the two guest rooms. you hear them play various games to decide who wins the bed, yet when one side wins, they switch to a different game that benefits the other side. they stop only after you've brushed your teeth and changed into sleepwear. you hear multiple heavy footsteps passing by your door, then knocking.

"yes?" you say, looking at the door through the mirror. your fingers don't let go of the halfway braided hair as a head peeks in, eyes quickly scanning the room, then falling on you. you remember the man as wooyoung. he's the social butterfly of the group, that you've noticed.

"nice pj's, noona." he grins, shamelessly staring at your bottom. "pandas look very cute on you."

"wooyoung you come over here right fucking now." hongjoong, you think, warns him. you laugh, still looking at the young man standing at your door, now holding it open for everyone to see inside.

four of them are lined up behind him, trying to sneakily look inside. until hongjoong rushes them all downstairs, then points his finger at wooyoung with a stern look.

"out."

"whoops, gotta go. good night, noona."

the door closes with a loud thud, hongjoong's scolding still travelling through it. it doesn't feel the same when he calls you that. only seonghwa can do it properly. wooyoung seems to be using it in a flirting way, yet seonghwa... he seems genuine with it. he says it so sweetly, with respect. you find yourself excited about hearing it again tomorrow. and the day after it. and the whole week like that. so far, you're having a great time. you can't wait to see what surprises this week has for you.

after many plane pictures and more scolding from hongjoong and you all the way to the destination, you're finally gathered in front of the most vibrant sea you've ever seen in your life. your body soon falls face first into the mattress, as if you haven't been sitting and sleeping for hours until now. your friend, on the other hand, already had plans to dive into the endless turquoise heaven.

"come on, now. we didn't come to sleep." she throws a pillow at you, which you don't bother to avoid. it lands on your head and stays there, making her giggle. "we have all night to do that."

"if we have all night to sleep, when are you planning to get drunk and laid?" you mumble.

at the other bungalow, park seonghwa is cussing under his breath. he shouldn't have agreed to the trip right away. he should have seen you first. then, when he realizes just how hot you are and how difficult it is to maintain his polite attitude around you, he'd decline the invitation. now, he stands in front of the mirror, scolding himself for not going to the gym when his friends would ask him. and to think you'll see him shirtless at the beach for seven days straight?

then, he realizes. he will see you too. fuck, how will he survive it? to see you in a bikini, with your skin all exposed to the sun? with water drops sliding down your sun-kissed skin? what if you had a tattoo somewhere, like right above your panties on your back?

"seonghwa, are you going?"

his head follows the voice, face blank and brain suddenly frozen. "huh?"

wooyoung snickers, grabbing the deflated beach ball they had brought. "here, make yourself useful until you are capable of leaving this place in a normal shape."

he throws the plastic smelling item at seonghwa, who is now as red as the cocktail wooyoung is already slowly sipping. "it's not what you think-"

"we'll be outside, having fun. without you. bye!"

and just like that, park seonghwa is left alone in his shared bungalow, with a flat beach ball in his hands and a painful erection in his pants. maybe, just maybe, he could skip today.

his plan goes well, and he spends his free time collecting all the discarded sweaty clothes from the flight. carelessly thrown items around the place are now neatly organized on the dresser. he is now wearing a tank top, the one which makes his body look bigger and more formed. just in case he bumps into you. which he hopes he won't. not yet, at least.

he manages to clean the mess in the other bungalows, then proceeds to the last one: his sister and yours. he wonders how bad he would get scolded if he did a little cleaning inside. after all, his sister is a bigger mess than him. he stares at the opened suitcase, disapprovingly scanning the balled up clothes his sister had 'packed'. then, he sees yours. it is perfectly packed, corners neatly tucked so that you don't have to iron and creases won't form on the delicate materials. your side of the space is a drastic difference from his sister's, and it looks like something out of a cartoon.

voices travel to his ears, mingi's dominating. he goes deeper into the room, until he is standing at the other exit looking at the sea, with the net hanging above it. he has seen the view countless times on those influencer instagram accounts and pinterest, but witnessing it all first-hand is truly a breathtaking experience. no signs of sharks yet, though. luckily for him.

but the unlucky part is still here for seonghwa. he catches a glimpse of you in the deep water, your figure swallowed by the vibrant liquid, hiding your form from him. his eyes feel blurry, sudden heat spreading in his body. he's wondering what kind of swimwear you are wearing.

was it a one-piece? the one with the covered front but exposed back? the one exposed on both sides? the one with a deep cut? or the one with a regular cut but high leg? maybe it was a two-piece. maybe it was pastel, it would suit you. you seem like the type of girl to like soft themed things. or maybe you're like that just on the surface. maybe you liked fierce things, like a g-string and triangle top which barely covers your tits. or those panties that are tied up on the sides, and come off with just a pull of a single string.

he feels his swim shorts getting tight again. he looks down, hopeless. this whole trip is going to end him. the man turns around, trying to clear his head. but how is it possible, when he is standing in the middle of your belongings and he can clearly hear your laughter from outside? his eyes fall on your suitcase, again admiring your folding skills. he might have to take a few classes from you.

then, he spots the bikini section in the corner. his eyebrows raise in surprise at the amount you had packed. his fingers reach for the one on top, carefully pulling it out without disrupting the organisation of other items. a brasilian cut hangs from his finger in all its glory, the vibrant green taking all his focus. he spreads it, and exhales once he realizes how high it has to sit on your hips. the matching white top is indeed triangles, with extra long strings. will you wrap them all around your waist like he saw on instagram? or maybe you have your own creative ideas and you'll surprise him?

"seonghwa?"

caught red handed, he stands like a deer on a highway. he feels his knees go weak, barely holding his body up. he stuffs the panties in his pocket, and immediately curses himself. he couldn't have thrown them into the suitcase?

"seonghwa?" you call again, voice dripping honey as you say his name he suddenly loves.

"yes?" he says, voice raspy and tone uneven. he clears his throat, and runs his fingers through his hair. he tries to collect himself before you can see him this messy and flustered. but his cheeks become an even deeper crimson when you step into the room, colour almost matching your swimwear. he has to grit his teeth to keep his jaw from falling. but his eyes betray him. they shamelessly roam your body, taking in everything you are serving him. you're wearing a one-piece today, cuts sitting high up on your legs, and a deep cut going down to your belly button. your hair is falling over your tits, denying him a chance to be a complete creep right in front of you.

"you're missing all the fun." you pout, eyes big as you look up at him.

it takes every ounce in his body to not slam you right there and worship every inch of your body, from the food belly bump to the stretch marks decorated with water drops. he wished to hold your waist, to feel the wet fabric which stayed tight against your skin. he is breathless in front of you, and you haven't done anything but exist.

"seonghwa?" you say once again, calling him out of his fantasies.

"yes, noona?" he breathes out, hoping your eyes stay locked with his until the situation in his pants calms down.

"aren't you going to join us?"

no, i'd rather stay and stroke myself to death thinking about you.

"not today, sorry. i'm not feeling well."

he tries to leave the room, but your fingers press into his chest, pushing him back in front of you. just when he thinks you have discovered his plans and his little crime, he is confused once again. you press your palm on his forehead, then his cheeks. your brows furrow, and he subconsciously mimics your expression.

"well, you are hot. and not the it's summer kinda hot. maybe you should really stay." you say, disappointment evident in your voice.

the last thing he wanted to do is let down the person who made this whole trip and his erection happen. he closes his eyes for a moment, clearing his head as much as he can. "i'll come."

the smile you give him is enough to make him do whatever you want. you have him wrapped around your finger, and you don't even know it.

he spends the day laying in the sun, occasionally napping and waking up when cold water drops hit his hot skin and he feels a figure blocking the sun.

"you're ruining my vibes, san."

"oh, sorry, mr i'm horny for my sister's best friend."

seonghwa's eyes shoot open, and he sits up immediately. san giggles, searching his backpack near seonghwa's head. the man smacks his friend behind the head, resulting in a glare from him.

"stop saying dumb shit, you'll get me in trouble for nothing." he scolds.

san raises an eyebrow, eyes dropping to the man's crotch. seonghwa covers it with a t-shirt, cheeks burning from embarrassment once again.

"wouldn't call that thing a nothing. if anything, it's truly a something."

"you fucking weirdo, get out." seonghwa growls, head falling back on the beach towel. "as if i have any chance with her anyway."

little did he know, you had trouble keeping up the conversation with your friend. the way park seonghwa took off his tank top so sensually, exposing his defined figure so you can drool over it, had you pressing your thighs together underwater. you watch as he smacks his friend for something he has said, then briefly lock eyes with him. his gaze goes from sharp to soft so quickly, and you wonder if he is aware of how much impact his eyes have. awkwardly, you wave towards him, inviting him into the water. you're not sure if he has gotten the message, since he doesn't move from the beach towel. just when you start to shift your attention to the conversation going on near you, you see him stand up.

he steps into the water, shivering at the coldness. as hot as it was, he still felt uneasy entering it.

"ah, seonghwa decided to show up." wooyoung grins, throwing the ball his way.

you hear him cuss when water splashes him from the ball, and your thighs press again when he picks it up, an annoyed look on his face. the serious gaze has your stomach doing back flips, and by now you're sure that you're wet. all for your best friend's brother. you struggle to stop staring, hell, almost drooling, but when he glances at you one more time, you're almost sure that a smirk was on his lips. he then dives into the water, his figure disappearing completely for a few moments. you begin to worry, and you start to swim forwards in hopes you'll catch a glimpse of him somewhere. and then, you gasp.

park seonghwa resurfaces right in front of you, face to face. your jaw drops subconsciously, and if you weren't in deep water, you'd probably search for a place to sit. the young man opens his eyes, ignoring the burning from the salty water. maintaining eye-contact with you, he runs his fingers through his hair, slicking it back so that it doesn't bother him. you watch in awe as water drops glide down his golden cheekbones and lips, toned chest and arms, and you have to fight every urge in your body to not lean in and kiss him right there.

"hi, noona." his lips curve in a sweet smile, the one that has your heart beating a little too fast for two days now.

"seonghwa," you choke out, the poorest greeting that has ever come out of you.

"let's join them, shall we?"

you feel a light touch on the small of your back, and that's when you decide it's enough for today. it's only day one, and if you decide to ruin a vacation or a friendship, you'll do it on the last day. until then, you have to gain control over your body again.

"actually, i'm feeling a bit tired. "

a slight frown appears on seonghwa's face, almost barely noticeable. he pulls his hand back, and you want to whine at the loss of contact. it was only a second, yet you crave his whole existence. you want to feel him all over you, his warmth, his scent, the refreshing water beads and his firm hands on your waist as he fucks you into the hanging net, looking at the sunset over your shoulder. images form in your brain, one, two, three, four. then suddenly, a whole scenario. park seonghwa having you in the water. park seonghwa consuming you in your bungalow as you hide from his sister. park seonghwa making love to you in the moonlight in the shallow water. you breathe out, feeling your chest getting heavy with each thought that rushes through your brain.

"i'll see you at dinner tonight." you wave at the group, then swim past the man that squeezes the filthiest thoughts out of your brain without him even knowing.

you drop down on your bed, sprawled out like a starfish. you stare at the wooden ceiling, trying to collect your thoughts. but how can you, when he looks so goddamn good in those beach shorts and his hair slicked back, with a few strands falling over his eyes? it's been long since you craved someone's touch. fuck, you don't think you've ever craved someone this much. you don't remember wishing for anyone to fuck you in any place you can think of.

meanwhile, seonghwa is busy hiding his frown from the group. you dragged him outside, just for you to run back inside. he'd be lying if he said he wasn't staring at your ass up until the moment you disappeared inside the bungalow. he stays away from his sister, afraid that she might somehow hear his thoughts and become angry. she cannot know about his feelings. nobody can. well, nobody else. his friends weren't blind, but they aren't the ones to rat out a person. it is a chance for seonghwa to stop on time and save his bond with his sister. he can't even begin to imagine the disaster that would happen if she ever knew. besides, you don't look at him that way. for god's sake, he used to fight you all the time as a kid, purposefully sneezing into your face just to see you freak out. he giggles with himself, remembering your angry and crying face while running to tell his mother.

"don't you think you should get out of the water?" the female voice interrupts his thoughts, and he looks at the group that has formed a circle and is playing with the beachball.

"no, why?" san ignores, throwing the ball seonghwa's way.

"everybody's lips are practically green. let me see your fingers. i bet they're pruney as fuck."

a round of protesting and finger examining later, the woman is forcing everybody but seonghwa out of the water. as she swims past him, she makes sure to ruffle his hair, giggling at the result.

"you can stay, but don't make it too long. i don't want you catching a cold on day one. and ruin my vibes."

"don't worry," seonghwa smiles, assuring her that he will obey.

he feels his muscles tighten, a familiar sweet pain forming and telling him that tomorrow will be hell for his body. he hasn't been active for a while, and a little swimming won't kill him. just make him unable to move. and so seonghwa swims, to the boats, to the shore, and towards the bungalows. he lays on his back, absorbing the sun rays and letting his brain roam. they go back to you every time, and it's starting to annoy him. why can't he accept that he can't have you? he must be just way too worked up. surely, he'd fuck anyone if given the chance. he can't possibly have these thoughts only about you. you're his sister's best friend, for fuck's sake. and, you're older than him, which makes it impossible in his head. how could he possibly please you, when he had the least experience in the group? he has only ever done sexual things with his first girlfriend, and since the breakup, he hasn't had any encounters with anyone else. what could he know about pleasing you? maybe you liked it rough? he only knew slow and romantic. though, he is willing to try, for you. did you like it messy and sloppy? or clean and organised? maybe you liked foreplay more.

"seonghwa!"

he opens his eyes, looking the way the voice is travelling. hongjoong is calling him, and just like that, he has to put his brain on hold. he cannot think about you. he mustn't.

"be right there!"

dinner came and went, with the young men ordering simple for day one and eating in the bungalows. you, on the other hand, have ordered the most complicated meal you could, and were now humming with each bite.

"this is better than dick." the woman next to you speaks, mimicking your reactions when eating.

"depends, whose."

"let's say, like, jeffrey dean morgan's."

your jaw drops, offended, "how dare you?"

"fine. mads mikkelsen?"

you nod approvingly. she's not right either way, but how could you possibly know? you haven't tried neither of the two. sadly.

"i need to talk to you." the tone is suddenly low, and the atmosphere is no longer relaxed.

you can feel the tension in the air. she leaves the plate, then turns to sit across from you so she can look at you while speaking.

"yes?" you ask, mimicking her actions.

"seonghwa."

fuck, did she realise what was going on with you? was she going to tell you to stay away from him? was she going to threaten you?

"what about him?" you act stupid, innocently looking into your friend's eyes while the most sinful thoughts roam your head.

"he's a little, like, awkward and antisocial. he gets nervous around pretty girls, and, well, you're one hell of a pretty woman. maybe you could strike up a conversation with him? just to let him know that you're a normal person and he can behave normally around you. without all formal labeling and all that crazy shit he has been doing since he saw you. i mean, noona? seriously?"

that you did not expect. her to encourage you to talk to park seonghwa. you hold back a smile. being too enthusiastic won't look good, and will only make her more suspicious.

"i'll try, sure. but i won't force him into anything."

and you meant it. you won't force him into anything, if you decide to make a move at all. any sign of discomfort, you'll back away. you don't need that. and neither does he.

it isn't long until you have to wake up early, get ready and follow your friend. her part of the vacation was to take canoes and swim towards a little nearby island a few minutes away. good booze and hot guys, she said. so you go, all dolled up in your black bikini that ties up around your waist, and a black lace kimono draped over your shoulders. the young men trail behind you, and you can't help but imagine seonghwa sneakily glancing at your figure. doesn't hurt anyone to daydream.

"here we are. five teeny weeny canoes, two people per one." the woman points towards the famous clear canoes, the ones that allow you to see what you're rowing over. "mingi, come on."

"me?" the man stutters, but doesn't question it any longer when she grabs his wrist and pulls him in the water.

they all hop inside, leaving seonghwa and you still in the sand. the water splashes your legs, refreshing waterbeads inviting, along with the scorching sun. it finally smells like proper summer.

"noona, i think i'm feeling unwell again." he tries, already turning around.

without thinking, you grab his arm, your nails subconsciously digging into his sun kissed skin. he turns around, eyes wide. like a deer on a highway looking at the car in front of it, he stands and waits for something to happen.

"you're not going anywhere. come on, now. hop inside."

seonghwa gulps, his skin burning where your fingers touch him. the sight of your bright summer nails digging into his skin awoke a volcano inside of him, lust spreading in his body slowly and burning, like magma waiting to erupt. you put so little effort, yet you had him harder than he has ever been. he wonders if you'd dig your nails like that when he eats you out. seonghwa is weak just thinking about it; you sprawled out just for him to feast on. his cheeks are already flushed, and he begs heavens to help him erase those thoughts. but how can he get rid of them, when you stand there in front of him, in all your glory? he watches you climb into the little boat, and he has no other choice but to join you. he sits behind you, letting you take control of the rowing and only holding his paddles.

"so, tell me what you've been up to all these years I haven't seen you."

"well, I haven't been up to much. lots of studying, a little less absences, almost perfect grades. it's going fine."

he hears you hum, and he wonders what else you will question him. whatever it is, he must impress you.

"no girls?"

so much for impressing you.

"no," he mumbles, shyly dropping his head, "i'm not that desired."

his breath hitches when you throw your head back so you can look at him, position somehow a huge turn on. "not that desired?"

"y-yeah, I mean," he scratches his neck, avoiding eyecontact, "none of them ever showed interest. I had, like, one girlfriend, and that went horribly."

you hum again, then get back to rowing and following the rest of the group. he now follows your movements, silently moving in sync and definitely not looking at your ass.

"why? if I may know." you push, desperate to know how no girl could want someone like him.

"I guess I'm just a pretty face. she wasn't satisfied with, well, anything. not with the way I communicated, not with the way I ate, sat, studied, even breathed."

he opens up like a book in your hands, ranting about all the times she was angry with him for the most ridiculous reasons, and was at one point just searching for ways to make him leave her so she wouldn't feel guilty. so that's what seonghwa did, with his heart shattered by his first love, who he thought would be his last too. he was the bad guy, yet he didn't do anything wrong.

"oh, can she complain. is there anything that didn't bother her?"

instantly, seonghwa's cheeks go red, and he stutters. you stop rowing, turning your head to look at him over your shoulder.

"seonghwa?"

"well, she always said I, uh," he stops, thinking about whether to tell you, "it's stupid."

you scoff, not believing anything he has to say is stupid. with great difficulties and lots of slipping, you try to turn around towards him, so you can look at him while you talk. your eyes widen with horror when your leg slips on the wet inside of the canoe, hands desperately reaching out for anything for support. you weren't ready for a swim yet.

just in time, the young man reaches forwards, firmly planting his hands on your waist and stabilising your figure. his cheeks are a deep crimson, eyes wide with realisation at the way he's touching you. you don't move, suddenly too aware of your surroundings and the man in front of you.

"she said I had skilled hands," he whispers, subconsciously rubbing his thumb against your skin.

it pains you that you can't just lean in and kiss him right there. if only it were that simple.

"like- like massages, right?" you offer him a way out, gently removing his hands. "and, well, catching things."

"yeah," he laughs, awkwardly looking at the water surrounding you.

"in that case, I could use that little skill of yours."

seonghwa goes red again, and you fight the urge to laugh. he is crumbling in front of you, so small and gentle despite his figure being much bigger than yours. you don't remember ever having this feeling of the upper hand. it is new, and it's setting your whole body on fire. your fingers yearn to move that strand of hair that has fallen over his pretty eyes.

"I could use a massage."

and with a wink, you start rowing again, this time staying in the other position and facing him.

the day is loud and quick. wooyoung is tipsy, hongjoong has embarrassed himself three times already, and san is almost desperate for the waitress that had the thinnest waist you've ever seen in your life. right away, your appetite is gone. your gaze drops down to your body, suddenly feeling heavy and stuffed. everyone is already at their second plate from the buffet, and you're still playing with the one from an hour ago.

"noona?" 

when you don't respond, because you know just what they will tell you, you feel a soft touch under the table on your ankle. you raise your head, ready to scold wooyoung for inappropriate touching. but then you see seonghwa's worried gaze, eyes big and shiny as he looks at you, then your plate. nobody else is paying attention, half of them having stood up to do karaoke and make complete fools out of themselves.

"is it not tasty? do you want to exchange plates?"

you look at his plate filled with fruit, and it looks much more acceptable than your grease filled plate. just what were you thinking?

"I'll just try something..." you reach towards it, stabbing into a mango,"...if i may?"

he smiles, his eyes somehow prettier when he does so. you are mesmerized, and you feel like you've been staring at him for hours. you wouldn't mind doing so, when he is a walking sculpture.

"of course you may, noona. that is why i offered."

"you know, you don't have to call me noona. you can call me by my name."

"i'm not sure i can do that."

"sure you can. try it."

he stuffs his mouth with fruit, pointing towards it as an excuse for not speaking. you laugh, watching him cutely chew and wiggle his legs under the table in the process.

"cute," you say, getting up to empty your plate.

you don't miss the way he stops eating for a while, ears and cheeks a matching red with the strawberries on his plate.

it is past midnight when you hear water splashing, and taking the nosiness from your parents, you have to get up and see what is going on. you stand at the edge of the opened glass doors, scanning the night view. the sky is clear, and no light pollution allows you to see millions of shiny dots sprinkled on it. one particular shiny dot reminds you of the way his eyes sparkle, and you catch yourself just in time before diving further into the thoughts. you've spent too much time thinking of him, and it's not doing any good to you. not when everything is starting to remind you of him.

your gaze drops on the figure in the water, and you curse under your breath. still, it's a hot night, and a perfect opportunity for you to relax without the group swarming around you like usual. it doesn't take long to change into a bikini, careful not to wake up your sleeping roommate. but even if she knew, she was the one who asked you to talk to him. so that's what you'll do. talk.

you sit in shallow water, and watch the moonlight caress his skin. he swims, back and forth, disappears under the water once in a while. then, when he comes back to the surface, he throws his head back, runs his fingers through his hair and rubs his eyes from ocean salt. whatever is clouding his mind, he could really use a conversation.

just when you want to step into the water and join him, he turns his head, eyes locking with yours. he dives in again, this time staying there longer. but after yesterday, you trust him. he doesn't need you panicking when he was simply searching for a calm swim.

even though he did it once already, when he resurfaces right in front of you, repeating the hair motion you so intensely watched, not once breaking eye-contact, you can't help but shamelessly stare.

"seonghwa," you greet, lips curving upwards and mimicking his smile.

"noona," he says, not moving a muscle.

his hands are firmly pressed in the sand, holding his body so that he is hovering in the water. you have your knees pressed to your chest, the beach lace cardigan loosely hanging off your shoulders.

"what's on your mind?" you ask.

your chin rests on your knees, hands hugging your legs as you examine his facial expressions. the young man sighs, and the smile fades away. he drops his head, thinking of ways to lie to your face.

"seonghwa," you call.

when he doesn't respond, you place your hand under his chin, gently lifting it so that he can look at you. he is surprised at the sudden contact, not hiding it in the slightest. big irises match the starry sky, an endless sparkle and mystery.

"talk to me, love."

and just how was he supposed to tell you he went for a cold swim to calm his erection? it has been difficult for two days now, and he can't take care of himself. not with so many people around him. not with you right near him.

"is it the girls talk?"

"no, no, of course not." he quickly denies, trying to move away from you.

"stay there," you ask, your other hand firmly placed on his bare shoulder. "i quite like this position."

you indeed like it; him laying in front of you, looking at you from below, and you having him right there in your hand, completely vulnerable.

"now, tell me. is it the girls talk on the canoe?"

"maybe."

"maybe?" you raise an eyebrow, thumb subconsciously rubbing his jawline.

"i don't know how to please a girl," he blurts out. "i guess my hopes were too high for this trip."

"don't be silly, sure you do."

he snorts, tearing his gaze away. "you wouldn't understand."

"why is that?"

"you're telling me that a girl would enjoy an inexperienced man? imagine me taking one home, just for her to find out i can't even put it in."

you bite the inside of your cheek. you think, for what seems like an hour. he lays there, water caressing his bare torso, eyes looking up at you for further comfort. you cup his cheeks, your brain coming to a stop and letting your heart gain control.

"noona?" he stutters, eyes dropping down on your lips.

"there's more to it than just putting it in, seonghwa."

he is a blabbering mess, defending himself and saying that he knows, it was just a saying. you let him speak, watching his plump lips move as he struggles to put a sentence together. your intense gaze isn't helping his messy state at all, and he decides to simply give up. he drops his head again, a sigh escaping his lips.

"tell me, would you waste your time with someone who can't even kiss?"

"if i'm a little fond of that person, yes."

he looks up at you, expression unreadable. his silence gives you encouragement, and you lean back and slowly peel your legs open. you feel feverish, watching his parted lips and gaze fixed on your body. the night is calm, water climbing up and down the shore, caressing seonghwa's toned back. you would be lying if you said that the simple touch on his shoulder didn't make you all worked up. he was warm, firm, inviting to bite and scratch. his eyes follow up your body, and stop at your bikini top. the lace slides down your arms, pooling in the sand and giving him a free view.

"come closer," you whisper.

when he fails to move, your hand raises his head once again so he can look into your eyes.

"you need to touch,"

your hand grabs his wrist, pulling it out of the water and placing it on your hip.

"you need to get close,"

you tug at his bicep, inviting him out of the water and closer to you.

"you need to feel,"

you drag his hand up your leg, over the edge of your briefs, and place it on your side. he comes out of the water, hovering over you and holding his body up with his free hand. slowly, you lay back into the sand, giving him space so he can comfortably lay over you.

"you need to want it."

"i want it," he whispers into your lips, holding himself back.

"then come and get it."

a groan leaves his mouth, and he is eager to grab your waist with both of his hands. his wet skin against your dry one makes you shiver, cold water drops rolling from his body onto yours. his plush lips press into yours, gently taking in your bottom lip and giving it a soft caress with his tongue. he repeats it, giving sweet kisses and equal attention to both lips. his fingers dig into your waist, the nervous feeling spreading over his body and making it painfully obvious. you place your arms around his neck, fingers creeping into his wet hair and giving his scalp a gentle scratch. you swipe your tongue over his bottom lip, tasting salty water. he pulls away, face flushed and lips plump.

"feel me up, seonghwa," you drag the tips of your fingers and nails down his arms, down to his lower back, and back up to his shoulders, "like this."

he shivers at the sensation, and without a single further touch yet, he is already growing hard thinking of ways he could feel you.

"don't think too much."

peeling himself off of you, he kneels between your spread legs. your eyes close, you know you can trust him. a sigh of sensation leaves your lips, feeling his hands almost hovering over your sides, stomach, and down your legs. he makes his way back up, feeling every inch you had to offer him.

"want to add another pair of panties to your little collection?" you tease, a smirk dancing on your lips.

"w-what?" he stutters, his hands stopping at your hips.

"you think i wouldn't notice i'm missing one of my favorite panties?"

you hear no response. you eyes peel open, lazily looking into his scared ones. it is so adorable how new he is to all of this, and so hot that you get to teach him about it. you have him on his knees, quite literally, and it feels like you've been given a puppy for training. and you just can't wait.

"you can keep them, don't worry. i'll get rid of these too." you raise an eyebrow, and place his hand on the waistband. "soon, i hope."

he doesn't move. his cheeks are flaming, and the tips of his ears even worse. he looks lost. a whole feast in front of him, and yet he doesn't know where or when to start.

"there are too many clothes in the way, don't you think?" you help him out, reaching behind to pull at the string that is holding your bikini top.

you drag his hand up your body, resting it on the crease between your breasts. he gulps, loud. it makes you chuckle, and makes him look away.

"seonghwa," you call.

"yes?"

"you don't want it." 

"i do—"

not so gently anymore, you grab his jaw, tilting his head back towards you and pulling him close. he shivers at your nails digging into his cheeks, and to say that he wasn't drowning in lust from your stern look and tone would be the lie of the century.

"then fucking take it."

his hands cup your breasts, exploring the softness and size of them. he massages them, watching your face and searching for a sign that he is doing it right. but you only lay down, eyes closed, not a single sound leaving your pretty lips.

he pulls at the bikini triangles, exposing your chest to the warm night and himself. he cups them again, this time thumbs rolling your nipples. you merely hum, and look at him through half closed eyelids. he has gotten closer, eyes examining your sensitive buds and the way his fingers played with them.

"tongue, baby," you say, holding back moans. "nipples are sometimes more sensitive than the clit, and you have to— oh, yes, just like that."

seonghwa is good at listening, that you are familiar with. he drags his wet muscle over your tense bud, then again, and again. he takes care of you with soft kitten licks, occasionally taking the bud between his lips and gently sucking.

"look at me."

his eyes lock with yours, hazy with lust. you watch as he rolls your nipples between his lips and fingers, sending gentle waves of pleasure through your body. he moves to the other one, giving it equal attention. your hips subconsciously buck into his knee, searching for friction. he pulls away, letting his fingers work. he slowly touches you, teases your sensitive area as slow as he can. he enjoys taking it slow, that you've noticed. you wish you could orgasm from just nipple teasing, but it isn't that easy.

"am i doing it right?" he asks, massaging you as he pinches your buds with his fingers.

"of course, baby."

"i'm not getting any reactions from you," he frowns, hands dropping back on your waist.

"well, we have just started. you need to work me up, give me a little attention before the real thing."

"real thing?" he stutters. "we are having sex tonight?"

"not tonight." you assure him, and almost laugh when you see him sigh with relief. "keep going."

he follows your instructions, dragging his hands to your waist and hooking his fingers into the waistband.

"you have to feel first."

he stops to do exactly what you have told him. his fingers dip between your legs, and press into your warm crotch. due to the thin material, he can feel your bottom lips through the panties. it makes him bite his lip to keep him from groaning. he slides his fingers up and down, hoping to get a noise or two from you. when he doesn't, he lowers his body so that he is hovering over your crotch. he moves the panties aside, immediately tasting you and catching you off guard. your hand reaches towards his hair, fingers grabbing at the strands as he rolled your bud between his lips. his tongue teases the tip of the clit, spinning it in circles and making your hips buck into his lips.

"press a little harder, baby," you encourage, pushing his head into your skin.

when he delivers a particularly strong lick, followed by a suck, you moan. your thighs close around his face, and when his arms grab them and force you to spread your legs for him, you lose it. you are a moaning mess, his dominant side coming out of him without him even noticing. you want him to be rough with you, to snap his hips into yours hard, to mercilessly overstimulate you, to kiss you while he stuffs you with his cock.

something about watching him give your clit slow kitten licks is throwing you into a whole different world. he has his hand placed on your lower stomach, tugging at the skin so that he can reach your clit better. placing his fingers on your soaking folds, he looks up at you, finally satisfied with the results.

he rubs you in circles, slow, then fast, then licks you a few more times. he tugs your clit between his lips, tongue swirling around it and fingers spreading your folds as he does so. nobody has ever eaten you out with such passion, and seeing him make out with your bottom lips only makes you want to take him into your mouth until he is begging you to stop.

your orgasm announces its arrival, pooling at the bottom of your stomach and waiting to erupt.

"seonghwa," you gasp.

he hums, eyes still locked with yours. you yank at his hair, trying to pull his head away from you before you can cum on his tongue. but he is much stronger than you, and much more stubborn than you. another gasp leaves your mouth, and your arms find themselves planted in the sand, your wrists firmly trapped in his hands. your legs are clenching around his head, and after a few minutes of making it difficult for him, he presses his knee against your thigh. you are trapped under his firm grip, your most sensitive spots completely at the mercy of his soft lips and hot tongue.

"seonghwa—" you choke out, orgasm swallowing your body and lifting it up from the sand.

you shake in his hands, body working on the waves of pleasure ripping through your figure and blinding your vision. you don't even notice that your hands are now free, and his are pressed on your thighs again. he is doing his best to help you ride it out, generously giving your folds soft kisses and an occasional graze with his tongue. he admires your face from below, taking in every reaction you have to offer him. your body shakes in his hands, aftershocks of pleasure still very much active. your shallow breathing and quiet gasps fill his ears, and his brain makes sure to remember this picture of you forever.

he doesn't know whether you're faking it or he really did it, but he knows for sure that the way your wet hole clenches around nothing is making his cock twitch in his pants. he isn't far from cumming; one stroke from you and he would be done. and humiliated.

you look down, finally capable of forming a sentence other than "fuck" and "oh shit". seonghwa plants a final kiss on your lower stomach, then proceeds to press his body above you one more time.

"did i do good?" he asks, worry taking over his features.

"no."

his eyes widen, and his cheeks become a deep crimson which you can see even in the dark. something snaps inside of you, seeing his vulnerable and innocent state. originally, you wanted to tell him that he did better than good. but to have the upper hand and break him little by little, until he snaps and takes you from behind and fills you up with his seed? sounds way more inviting. how mean.

"it was okay," you caress his cheek, eyes roaming his pretty face, "but a woman needs more than just an orgasm."

"i rushed." he realizes.

"you rushed." you confirm, then push him off of you.

he almost whines at the loss of contact, but he has embarrassed himself enough for one night. he was so eager to make you moan and cum on his tongue, that he didn't think further. what if he has blown the single chance he had to impress you? what if you had hopes for him, but he let you down, and now you don't wish to try anything with him anymore?

the words are stuck in his throat, refusing to leave. he wants to say so much, but afraid that he might ruin this little dignity he has, he settles for watching you stand up and get dressed. the lace cardigan slides on your body just right, hiding your curves and only exposing your chest. he wonders how you can just stand up and move on, like you didn't shake in his hands just minutes ago.

"was this just a lesson for me?" his voice almost cracks behind you. "like, a one time thing?"

when you only spare him a glance over your shoulder, then start walking back to the bungalows, he falls into the sand. he spreads his arms and legs, imitating a starfish, and helplessly looks at the night sky. one chance, and he blew it. it isn't his fault you caught him off guard. he wasn't ready. he swears he could do so much more, if only you would've let him one more time. he curses himself for being impatient, and more stubborn than obedient. though, he is always obedient when it comes to you, his stubborn side had to find a way to make an appearance tonight.

his head falls to the side, eyes following your figure as you walk away from the shore. he is tired, from thinking more than swimming or, well, pleasuring you. though the latter didn't take long.

"fucking idiot."

another day passes, spent in the town center exploring street food and sweets. you buy souvenirs, all sorts of them. even the overpriced little magnets. you must have them all. the boys are filming everything, from the making of the ice cones to your face devouring it. you ride rented motorcycles, wooyoung holding onto your waist and screaming into your ear whenever you speed up. your friend catches up soon, holding onto her brother whose gaze only focused on the road in front of him.

the rest trail behind, ice cones in their mouth and tongues stuck out proud and green from the kiwi flavor. the whole time you've spent together, seonghwa stays aside, avoiding you at all costs. it is only when they go separate ways that he spares you a glance, much like you did to him last night. only his eyes are big and yearning, but yours were cold and uninviting.

you bite your cheek, watching as he licks the ice cone the boys have gotten for him. he isn't aware of his sensual way of eating it, and you hope his sister isn't aware of you staring at it.

you shop until you collapse, your bed suddenly the most comfortable place on Earth. you aren't sure how you'll fit all the items in the suitcase, but you'll leave the worrying part for the last day.

you now stand in front of the mirror, putting the clip in your hair and thinking whether or not you're satisfied with your appearance. even if you weren't, there was no time to change anything. you just had to obey your impatient friend.

eager to get drunk and laid, she orders shots, finishing four by the time you've only done one. she is tipsy and leaning into you, trying to tell you something over the loud club music. you laugh, hoping that she didn't ask a question. you simply don't have the energy to figure out what she is trying to say.

the boys are scattered on the dance floor, mainly making fools out of themselves and each other, trying to get most of this vacation. girls look at them, more with interest than worry because of their behaviour. you spot four familiar heads on the dance floor, and three are sitting on the couch with the two of you. the eighth one is missing.

"where's seonghwa?" you ask, trying to look and sound as careless as possible.

"we made him go to the bar." says san.

"yeah, he seriously needs to get laid."

the boys laugh at hongjoong's words, and even your friend giggles. but you don't find anything funny in that. your eyes roam the bar, in hopes to find the fluffy wavy hair and a pair of big shiny eyes. your neck hurts, raising your head every time someone gets close to the table, in hopes that it's seonghwa. but seonghwa is nowhere to be seen. until you stand up and make your way through the dance floor towards the bar.

you spot him, leaning on the bar with a drink in his hand. the girl in front of him is twirling the ends of her hair, hips swaying with the beat. your teeth sink into your cheek, keeping yourself from acting up. then, she reaches towards his hair, feeling the softness much like you did last night.

"noona!"

the voice comes from behind you, and a pair of arms touch your sides.

"wooyoung," you greet, turning around to wrap your arms around his neck.

fuck seonghwa. he's not yours. he can talk to whoever he wants to. and you're not his. so when wooyoung presses his lips against yours, you don't complain. his lips are hot against yours, and when comparing to seonghwa, much more skilled and confident. his hand grips your waist, pressing you into his firm body as he does body rolls to the beat of the music.

"fuck, noona, you're so hot." he groans into your mouth.

"am i now?" you tease, placing your hands on his and sliding them down to your ass.

"are you kidding me? with your hair in a clip like that, and your lip gloss, and your thongs sticking out of these incredibly tight jeans? i could just—"

"wooyoung."

the grip on your ass is gone, and the heated moment between you two is shattered. your eyes stare at seonghwa's side profile, watching his jaw clench as he tells wooyoung he needs you for a minute. the younger man removes his hands from your body, and then looks at you.

you don't get to protest, your wrist already in his hand and your legs following him outside.

"hey, what the fuck? let go of me!"

and he does let go. but when he does, it is by slamming you against the wooden wall of the club.

"how can you calmly kiss my friend like that after humiliating me last night?"

you take your time to admire him properly. he is wearing one of those over worn hawaiian shirts, all buttons undone and a single necklace resting on his sun kissed neck. he smells like sun protection and aftershave, and his hair is fluffier than usual.

"do you want to break me? do you want to see me at my lowest?"

"i don't know what you're talking about, seonghwa. go back inside."

"what, does he kiss better?" he bites the inside of his cheek, and his jaw clenches a lot more than usual.

"he does have more experience." you remain calm, a monotone tone leaving your lips when you speak to him. "this is all just fun. we're doing this for fun. nothing serious involved."

"then," he reaches forwards, cupping your face," let me fuck you. for fun."

"what? no."

you push him away once again, and start walking away. he gets deja vu, but this time, he speaks up.

"why? you were just seconds away from sitting on wooyoung's cock. why is it a problem when it's me?"

you turn around, still walking backwards towards the entrance. he is almost drunk, and surely doesn't know what he is saying.

"you're just not that type."

"not that type?"

"you know. you're soft. you don't fuck. you make love."

and you can't make love right now. you want him to break you, fuck you in positions that have you helpless and gripping at his built body, to make you beg for mercy as he drives you to your fifth orgasm.

and there he is, again, standing alone, helpless and horny. his legs carry him inside again, to the bar, and back to the girl he wasn't even interested in. he leans in, mimicking wooyoung's moves he did on you. when the girl moans in his mouth, it gives him a boost of confidence. he just hopes you sit there somewhere, watching this unfold.

"fuck, wanna take this outside?" she gasps, hips rolling into his.

seonghwa doesn't need to be told twice. he is thrown on one of the beach chairs, the girl already on her knees in front of him. he breathes heavily, heart beating so hard he swears it could jump out any moment. the alcohol in his veins made it impossible for him to be uncomfortable from the company around him. they didn't even flinch. situations like these are a regular occurrence for them.

"oh, shit, you're huge."

his cheeks burn at the compliment. the first few licks make seonghwa twitch in his sleep, but by the time she has him in his mouth, he is passed out. he was at the verge when he pressed you against that wall, and if he had just drunk two shots less, he would've proved that he can do better than you think.

in the morning, he finds himself wrapped in clean white sheets. he blinks slowly, his eyes getting used to the strong light.

the surroundings are unfamiliar, and for a second, he fears that he might've slept with the girl from last night. but when he sees your almost bare figure in front of him, back turned and hair falling over your shoulders, he silently gasps. that can't be true. he didn't sleep with you. did he?

he checks under the cover, and becomes even more confused when he sees he is fully dressed.

"i didn't sleep with you, seonghwa." you answer before he manages to put a sentence together.

"she did sleep with me, however."

"wooyoung." you warn.

seonghwa sits up on the bed, and looks around the room. wooyoung is also sitting on the bed. your bed. seonghwa sighs, feeling his heart tighten. he looks at you through the mirror, where you stood to fix your bikini. you catch him staring, and your lips twitch into a smirk when seeing his flustered expression.

"headache?"

"what am i doing here if we didn't sleep together?" he asks, the alcohol in him still a little active.

"first, you were passed out with a girl all over you, so i brought you to my bed since your sister spent the night with some guy anyway. second, i would never sleep with a drunk guy. at least not that drunk."

"can't believe you fell asleep mid blow job." wooyoung teases, glancing at his older friend.

"well, if it was any good, i doubt he would've fallen asleep." you come to rescue, deciding that he has suffered enough teasing for the morning. "right?"

"right," seonghwa agrees, scratching his neck.

"luckily, that's not the case with you, noona."

"wooyoung, get out."

"of course, baby."

seonghwa is now alone with you, eyes still trailing up your body. somehow, even though his friend had you before him, he still wants you just as bad as the day before.

"he's bluffing, don't listen to him."

"is he, though?"

you sigh. you did have fun with wooyoung last night, but it didn't go to the point of having sex. even though it was very hard to keep your hands off him. he is passionate, and rough, just how you like it.

"go get dressed, seonghwa. we are leaving soon."

"why won't you fool around with me, just like you did with him?"

his words make you sigh again. you leave your lip-gloss on the dresser, then sit on the bed.

"you don't ask. you just start it, then see where it gets you. i gave you the green light for that. but i told you last night, and i'll tell you again. i realize you're just not the type. you're too soft for me."

"then teach me."

at this point, he has no regrets and refuses to be embarrassed. he wants wooyoung's confidence, his passion for sexual activities, and his charm. all he has is a figure, which is not enough to satisfy you.

"teach you?"

"yes."

"you're out of your mind, seonghwa."

you have him right where you wanted him. right in your hand, like a marionette. you decide his moves, and he obeys, like the cute little doll he is.

"noona," he whispers, desperation dripping from his lips like sweetest honey, "please."

your fingers reach towards the loose strands of hair falling over his glossy eyes. neatly tucking them behind his ear, you bring his face close to yours.

"this time," your lips brush against his as you speak, "listen to what i say. if i say stop, you stop. got it?"

"got it." he nods.

"good."

as slow and soft as possible, you press your lips into his. he exhales, relaxing further into your hands. you are one step away from pushing him back on the bed, and all it takes is just a touch from him. ironically, as if he hears you, he rests his hands on your waist, and you don't resist anymore. you push him on the mattress, laying flat against his warm body.

"your boobs are soft." he comments, noticing the way they are pressed against his chest.

"aw, thanks, bub."

so easy to make him blush. he kisses you this time, tongue hungrily searching for yours. he hums when you finally give in, allowing him to take in the taste of you.

"hey, anyone seen my brother? did he come back last night?"

you pull away, jumping to the other side of the room to buy yourself time to fix your hair and put on a beach kimono, back turned towards him. you glance at seonghwa over your shoulder, and it is enough to make your heart flutter. he is flustered, eyes shiny and big as he panics while his sister's voice is becoming louder and louder. his lips shine from your lip gloss, and his hair is a fluffy mess. oh, you want to have him squirming and milking in your hands.

"ah, there you are! i've- woah, what happened here?"

"not what it looks like-" seonghwa stutters, but you are quick to interrupt.

"he is feeling a bit feverish from last night. he fell asleep in sweaty clothes with the window open."

too hung over to think, she waves it off, turning towards her suitcase in a search for a bikini for today's adventure.  you hear seonghwa exhale, and you turn around to wink at him. he seems calmer, seeing how relaxed you are.

"seonghwa, now that you're feeling better, you want to go and get ready?"

"huh? oh, yes. yes, of course."

you watch him as he tries his best to hide the bulge in his pants, eyes full of panic as he walks away hoping his sister doesn't turn around.

"see you, honey."

"see you, noona."

he leaves the room, and you see him through the window picking up his pace and running into his own. you can't help the smile that creeps onto your face, watching his messy hair bounce, and his hand wipe off the lip gloss from his lips.

"what an idiot." his sister comments, sitting on the bed and carelessly taking off her top and bra.

"aw, come on. he's being such a good boy, why are you calling him that?"

"noona? seriously? he is a piece of shit to me, and he is so nice to you. that asshole."

"he's cute, let him be."

she makes a mocking face your way, then starts to get dressed.

the day is hotter than ever. you are laying in the shades of nature, yet you are sweating so bad that you might actually get into water. you don't feel like it today. you just want to lay down on the fancy beach chair, hiding under your big sun hat, and daydream. about seonghwa.

"you know, i met a guy last night, and let me tell you! his friend is drop dead gorgeous. i told him about you."

you scoff, but don't give any other reaction. you know where she is going with that.

"what? not interested?" she questions.

you laugh, taking the hat from your face and placing it properly on your head. you glance over at the boys, who sat down just beneath you on the bright shark towels. seonghwa is busy squeezing his hair, and doesn't yet realize that you are shamelessly staring at him.

"not really, no," you finally answer, tone disinterested and distant.

"wasn't your plan to have a one night stand of your lifetime on this vacation?"

that seems to pick up seonghwa's attention. he sits down, acting unbothered as he opens his bag of candied almonds. his side eye is very obvious to you though, and his cuteness only increases when you notice small things like that.

"that still stands."

"well?"

"well, i think i already have my eye on someone. someone... younger."

"oh?"

the young man turns his head slightly, just enough to look at you without his sister noticing. you wink at him, and when he blushes, you can't help but smile proudly. you've never had a man behave so giddy because of you, and you are living for it.

"who's the lucky guy?"

"i'm not too sure if he's interested in me yet."

seonghwa turns towards you in disbelief, as if trying to ask you how you could think such a thing. but seeing the playful glint in your eyes, he relaxes.

"can i have one?" you ask, pointing at the candied almonds.

"sure," he mutters, turning the bag towards you.

you wink at him again, before opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out a little. his cheeks are the usual red, eyes wide and frantically looking over at his sister and friends. but none of them really pay attention. even if they do, the sight would simply seem playful to them. after all, they do not know about your secret little interactions.

he carefully aims the single almond towards your mouth, and when you so flawlessly catch it, you could've sworn that his jaw had dropped just a little. he is feeding your ego, and he won't regret it.

"good boy," you mouth, hoping he would catch it.

he does, his eyes wide in shock. you love getting reactions from him.

time is slow, the boys having lost interest in the sea and opting to play games and bickering on the towels. the sun is still high up in the sky, not yet ready to end the day. you cannot stop ogling at seonghwa, who is currently trying to doze off but is constantly bugged by something.

"what is it, ddeong?"

ddeong? that's very cute.

"my head really hurts. i wanted to take a nap but it's pounding so bad." he complains, rubbing his temple.

"guess it's your lucky day, because my bestie here gives the best scalp massages."

oh, right. you do. that's so clever, and she doesn't even know it.

"yeah, why don't you come over and i'll show you?" you ask, as innocently as you can.

glancing over at wooyoung and seeing his smirk, you know he knows. the dipshit knows everything. but he isn't the type to rat you out. you hope.

seonghwa stands up, cluelessly looking at you and trying to figure out how to do this.

"sit down, silly." you pat the space in the sand between your legs.

he finally sits, slowly resting his back on the edge of the beach chair and closing his eyes. there, you have him right between your legs, in your hands. not the way you want, but you can still work your magic. his hair is soft between your fingers, and you swear you've never felt such hair on a man before. seonghwa is very neat, that you've noticed. not like all those men that you've dated. it feels nice to have someone so clean and pretty in your hands.

he sighs as you put pressure on his scalp, nails softly grazing him. he is having the time of his life, and you can't help but smile when he lets his head fall back, resting on the chair between your thighs. so close to your already leaking cunt. wonder if he can feel it.

"feeling better?" you ask, seeing that he isn't doing anything aside from breathing.

he doesn't answer. you continue your motions, watching his features carefully. he has the prettiest pink lips, and the most perfect eyebrows. he is just so... fresh. and young.

"seonghwa?" you call again.

no answer. you tug at a strand of hair gently, jolting him awake. what you didn't expect was the whine that escaped his lips, and you find yourself trying to squeeze your thighs together. he realizes his mistake, and looks at you with horror.

"y-yes?" he stutters.

"uh, i just-"

you are at a loss for words. he is so unintentionally submissive, it is driving you crazy. 

"i think i'll go in the water."

and just like that, he grabs a floatie you had brought and almost runs to the water. your eyes follow his poor attempts at climbing the armchair shaped floatie, his hands continuously slipping from the water and slippery surface. he tries a few more times, until he almost gets it, but ends up falling back into the water and flipping the floatie upside down.

"god, what an idiot." his sister scoffs, putting on her sunglasses and hiding under her book.

"aw, stop. i'm gonna go help him." you laugh fondly, eager to get alone time with him.

"don't waste your time. jesus, look at him. i can't take it, please poke my eyes out."

you also wish to poke your eyes out. seonghwa is surrounded by three or four girls, all of them making sure he's okay, laughing and being all touchy with him. you're not liking that. you're not liking the way their nails are grazing his arms, while he is still processing what is going on around him. he is clueless, and only awkwardly smiles with them. for a split second, his eyes land on you, as if asking for help. but then he looks away, back to the girls, and relaxes. his mouth moves, and the girls go into a laughing fit. just what is he doing? he isn't that funny.

"huh. how about that. my brother can rizz up girls?"

"no offence, but nobody uses that word anymore." wooyoung chips in, and earns himself a smack on the back of his head.

"shut up. seriously though, look at him. and four at once? wait, where are you going?"

you almost throw the hat and kimono at your friend, and fix your hair. hell no.

"hey? i thought you aren't getting into the water today! why is everyone so weird today?" her voice is becoming distant, and the ones in front of you are getting louder.

ha-ha, so funny. you are dying to know just what it is that have them drooling over him and forcing their laugh.

"hwa?" you call, lowering your sunglasses just enough so he can look into your eyes.

"uh, yes?" he answers, completely smitten.

oh, yes.

if someone were to film you, the scene would really look like one from a movie where the rich older woman is seducing her pool boy, all while her husband is working up in his bedroom. and you like it. you adjust your bikini top, accidentally pushing your boobs together, and finally get into the water.

the girls have their eyebrows raised at you, and seonghwa only gulps. it's as if he knows he did something that is bothering you. behind the playful smirk you are giving him, he sees the mischievous glint in your eyes. he knows he fucked up big time.

"having trouble with your floatie?"

"well, yeah, kinda. i got water in my ear and eyes."

"aw, you poor thing. let me see."

you cup his cheeks, swiping your thumbs over his closed eyes. the girls are scoffing, murmuring, and you would've felt very self conscious before. but this trip and seonghwa have fueled your confidence, and you are not scared of a pair of younger girls that know nothing more than to act dumb in front of him.

"feeling better?"

"yeah, real better. excellent in fact." he is a blubbering mess, looking between you and the girls.

"wanna get on the floatie with me?"

"yes."

"come on, then. say bye to your friends."

you swim off into deep water with the floatie, slow enough so he can catch up to you. you turn the floatie so that the backrest is turned towards the shore, and you are looking into the islands far away.

"go on, get on it."

"uh, i couldn't get on it in the shallow water. what makes you think-"

"seonghwa. get on the floatie."

he struggles again, wet hands slipping against the surface, now worse because you are right there, watching him. he finally climbs up, throwing his head back and exhaling.

"god, this was worse than the runs i do in the mornings back home."

he sits silent, eyes closed and sun bathing. when he hears nothing from you, he opens one eye, silently questioning why you aren't joining him. i mean, you came for that, didn't you?

"your headache still bothering you?"

"your massage helped, i did doze off for a while. until you started pulling my hair. which, by the way, what was that about?"

"it's going to sound stupid, but you seemed a bit too calm. i don't know. i fear those things."

"what, you thought i was dead?" he laughs.

"shut up, paranoia isn't that fun, you know? i'm currently in deep water, actually dying from fear that a shark will appear and feast on my legs."

"then get up here with me," he offers, patting the space next to him.

"oh, i'm fine right here." you place your hands on his knees, putting your body between his thighs.

"wh-what are you-"

"i'm gonna need you to be quiet."

"for what?"

"hush."

"noona-"

"hush i said." you pinch his thigh, earning a whimper. "now, be a good boy and hold my hair up so i don't make a mess. yet."

he looks at you wide eyed, finally realizing what your intention is. he gulps, feeling his swim shorts become tight. there's just something about your long nails grazing his skin and you giving him your best siren eyes from between his legs that is making his blood boil.

"hwa, baby, you have to stop being so stiff."

he melts in your hands at the nickname, and melts even more when you slip your hands in his shorts and gently pull him out. he is hard, and warm, and you can't wait to get your tongue on him. his hand finally reaches for your hair, pulling it in a messy ponytail and subconsciously guiding your head towards his cock.

"so impatient. again."

"sorry," he stops his movements.

you tease him, slowly running your thumb around his tip, not yet giving him the friction he needs. he squirms in your hands, unable to relax. he isn't used to risky situations like this. hell, he isn't used to a situation like this anywhere.

"hey," you call, seeing his panicked expression. when he looks at you, you can't help but smile fondly at him, and reach to move his long strands of hair out of his eyes. "i'll let you know if things get risky, like if anyone starts approaching. trust me. alright?"

"alright," he gulps.

"good."

wasting no time, you stick out your tongue, licking a stripe from the base up to his leaking tip, and pull him between your lips. his breath hitches, and his grip in your hair tightens. seonghwa throws his head back, letting his eyes roll and small sighs leave his lips.

using the chance when he's not looking, you pull your bikini top aside, letting your breasts fall free. you take his other hand, placing it gently on your now bare breast. he squeezes it subconsciously, making you hum around his cock. he tastes warm and salty, and you enjoy taking in every inch he has to give and explore it with your tongue. you just can't wait to sit on it. hopefully soon.

"i'm gonna cum- i think-"

you pull him out, making sure to make a popping noise on purpose.

"already?" you tease, still gently stroking him.

"sorry..." he looks down at you, blush creeping up his cheeks.

"it's okay, bun. just relax this time. we'll have plenty of chances to practice your patience."

"we will?" he asks, eyes full of hope as he looks into yours full of mischief.

"honestly..." you drag off, teasing him further, "...seeing you so confused and stiff, i'm starting to think you don't even want it."

"what? no! i- i do, really. you just- have me in a rather uncomfortable place."

flashing him a smile, you cup his face with your palms and bring his face close to yours. "kiss me."

"uh-"

"seonghwa."

"yes."

"kiss. me." your face morphs from the fun expression to a serious and lustful one. "now."

and like the good boy he is, he obeys. he leans in, lips softly pressing into yours. he is still stiff in your hands, and his lips are almost trembling. as much as you think it is cute, it is starting to drive you crazy. why can't he just rip your panties off and plunge his fingers inside you right there underwater?

switching the places of the impatient one, you pull him off the floatie and into the water, hands wrapping around his neck and lips desperately chasing his. he tastes like a fruit salad, which you watched him steal from yunho before they joined you in sun bathing. the fusion of watermelon, kiwi and pineapples is melting on your tongue, and you just can't help but feel up his body and grind yourself on him like an animal in heat. he isn't too different from you, hands reaching for anything he can grab; from your waist, to your neck and face. you notice that he isn't touching any areas that you really need to be touched.

you groan, pulling away from him.

"seonghwa, you're pissing me off."

"what? why?" he pulls away, but still rests his hands on your waist, afraid that you're going to run away from him if he lets go.

"it feels like i'm forcing you to do this. you don't seem to enjoy it, at all. not the way you're supposed to. if you want me to stop, you have to tell me that. you're giving me mixed signals here, all inviting and teasing from afar, and when i finally approach you, you're so stiff and nervous. like you're waiting for me to get over with it and leave."

the young man stays silent. that isn't the case. you have no idea how it is not that case at all. seonghwa is crazy about you, from your personality, to your body. you're a full package, but you are older, more experienced. and him? he's just a young man who doesn't know a thing about pleasing a woman, other than rubbing her until eventually she cums, whether it is a minute or thirty minutes later. fun, right?

"look, here's the deal. i will leave you alone, okay?" you reach to remove his long bangs out of his face, revealing his pretty eyes staring at you with mixed emotions. "if you decide to prove me wrong, don't do it with words. come search for me, show me what you want and how you want it, and we'll go from there. sounds good?"

"but i really want you, i just-"

"no more words i said, hwa. words are nothing at this point. you want me? you're gonna have to do something about it. before somebody else does. and i really need some relief these days, i might really cave into wooyoung."

god, not wooyoung. he can't lose you to wooyoung. not because he dislikes him or something, but because he dislikes the idea of seeing you with someone else. at least seeing you, well, relieved with someone else. he's not sure what view he has on you. it is clear you only want something physical, and something limited. something tied to this vacation spot and time. does he have the heart for that? he will fall for you, he knows it. if he hasn't already.

were your eyes always this pretty in the sun? was your hair always that satisfying to touch? and was your voice always this satisfying to his ears?

days pass fast when you're having fun. you're sadly looking over at the last packed bikini, bottom lip sticking out in a pout.

"oh, cheer up! your birthday is in like two hours!"

"oh, my bad. yay! i'm getting older!" you grab the bottled cocktail off the nightstand, sipping it.

"what has gotten up your asshole these days?" your friend is persistent.

"nothing, why would you think that?"

you hear a scoff, and you just have to roll your eyes. she stays silent for a few moments, looking at you through the mirror while she is getting ready for your birthday party. you had agreed on going for a group night swim after the countdown, but you are not feeling it. you always get sad on trips, knowing that they'll end soon and that you'll have to go back to your ordinary life. if only you could live here. with seonghwa.

what?

think straight. you cannot want something like that with him. he is so young, he should find someone his age. someone who doesn't make him sad, confused and stiff all the time. the opposite of you. it hurts your heart a little, but you remind yourself that this is only a crush that will fade, a summer fling that will pass. nothing to get yourself worked up for.

"you're so fucking depressed today, jesus. it's making me feel like shit too."

"i'm just a little homesick, that's all."

"lies. but okay, suit yourself."

you finally slip on the pink sequin dress you have bought specifically for this night. the faux feathers are tickling your skin, and you just can't wait to take it off. why are the prettiest things the most uncomfortable ones?

"wow, those heels make your legs look so hot! you're so bringing a guy here tonight."

with a glance at your pink glitter heels, you sigh. you want one guy. and it doesn't even have to be for the reason she thinks. you could just lay there, talk about old times and new times. with each second passing, it is becoming more difficult to keep your thoughts away from seonghwa. why is he so damn addicting?

"right, let's go."

the club is loud and busy, you have trouble finding the group. but when you do, you are glad. you are starting to feel more comfortable with them, and not being around them makes you feel a bit empty and bored. seeing them occupy the couch again puts a smile on your face, but when you notice one face missing, your face drops.

"where's seonghwa?" you ask before thinking.

"he left to get a drink, i think. strange, it's been fifteen minutes now. the bar isn't that busy."

glancing at the bar, you realize that san is telling the truth. the bar is almost empty, and seonghwa is nowhere to be seen. wooyoung takes his chance, expanding his hand for you to take. when you do, he gently pulls you so that you fall into his lap, and you can't help but laugh.

"rude."

"come on, is there a better seat here?"

you notice mingi taking secret glances at you friend, probably thinking whether or not he should make a similar move on her.

"so, want to play a classic?" yunho offers.

"games? come on, yunnie, we came to drink!"

yunho rolls his eyes at your friend, and brings the bottle of vodka to his lips. it is almost empty, and he downs it with no problem. he sets it in the middle of the table, giving it a spin. "who says there won't be drinking?"

wooyoung's hands are suddenly loose around you, and before you can look at him and ask what's wrong, a familiar figure joins the table. he looks absolutely ravishing.

his hair is a wavy mess, his linen white shirt half unbuttoned, and pants loosely hanging on his hips, exposing his v-line. fuck, you need him. you need him so bad that you almost start grinding on wooyoung for any friction.

"what are we doing?"

"playing some old truth or dare. spin?"

"sure."

he sits next to yunho, and spins the bottle. the bottom lands on san, the tip on your friend. he smirks, and you see that he is fighting the urge to look at mingi.

"truth or-"

"dare."

"ah, should've known already.  i dare you to sit on mingi's lap."

mingi blushes furiously, glaring at san. your friend only rolls her eyes, much like yunho at her, and sits on mingi. "childish ass dare. do better, i'm already bored."

"oh, we're just getting started."

the game lasts half an hour, and so far, you have: kissed yeosang's cheek, because everyone likes to see him shy, drank five consecutive shots of tequila, told them some of your kinks, and accidentally rubbed your ass on wooyoung's crotch. he snickers, hands coming to your hips to keep you steady. you are feeling tipsy, but you still know what you're doing. right now, the tip of the bottle is pointing at you, while jongho is taking his sweet time thinking of a dare to give you.

"oh, oh! i got one for you!" hongjoong exclaims.

the older man whispers something into the younger one's ear, and the smirk that appears on his face makes you a little nervous.

"well?" you ask, voice a bit shaky with a nervous smile.

"i dare you to..."

why did you choose dare? why couldn't it be truth? you wanted to be fun. there you have it.

"spit it out, jongho. she's shaking." wooyoung says, annoyed.

"i dare you to drink that cocktail and kiss seonghwa with it. you know, make him drink it from your mouth."

time seems to stop for you. your eyes widen, scanning over the group. you are ready to spill out excuses and explanations, but when you see them cheer, your eyebrows scrunch. nobody is seeing anything suspicious about this? well, nobody except three people. you glance at seonghwa, who is frozen in his seat. his whiskey glass rests in his hand halfway up to his mouth. 

he sets it back on the table, mentally preparing himself for what is about to happen. you will probably decline, say you see him as a childhood friend, and pick someone else to do it with instead. but when he sees you down the glass of piña colada and get up from your seat, he feels sweat wash over his body. you'll really do it. in front of his sister. in front of wooyoung. in front of everyone.

he thinks you look cute with your lips unintentionally pouting as you hold the liquid in your mouth. a fond smile creeps on his lips just before you sit on his lap, hands wrapping around his neck and lips finally pressing into his. he takes every single drop you give him, drinking it up along with the taste of your lips and tongue. already swaying a bit from alcohol, he forgets where he is for a moment. his tongue swipes your bottom lip, collecting the remains of the drinks and biting it along the way. you give in, tongue pushing past his lips and finding his.

"woah, woah! okay!"

"guys, that's enough."

but you don't stop. not when his hands are finally touching you how you want it. how you need it. his slender fingers find their spot in the back of your head, gently pulling your hair as he desperately kisses you. you whine in his mouth, pleasant pain spreading in your body. his other hand lands on your waist, pulling you closer into him so that you can only feel his scent and his warmth. only him in a room full of people. 

"shit, live porn. how about that?" wooyoung snickers, downing another tequila.

"alright, guys!"

seonghwa is the first one to pull away, hazy eyes staring deep into yours. it only takes one look from you to show him that you know what he wants, and that you want it too.

"damn. my brother and my best friend making out. didn't think i'd see that in... well, ever."

"why are you complaining? you're making out with your brother's best friend."

"yeah, but seonghwa doesn't mind, do you?"

seonghwa hates that he has to remove his gaze from you to look at his sister. "why? you mind me kissing your best friend?"

"no, no. not at all. carry on. SOMEWHERE ELSE! disgusting."

seonghwa helps you stand, not letting go of your waist.

"i'll be borrowing this." you reach for the bottle of champagne that was meant to be opened on your birthday countdown. but you found a better use of it. "see you!"

you rush out of the club, pulling seonghwa by his wrist all the way to the shore. you push him into the ocean, cold water caressing your bodies as you keep walking deeper until it reaches your chest. seonghwa is quick to continue the makeout session he has started, and you don't complain. his lips are starved of your touch, kissing you like it's his first and last.

"wait, wait."

"what?"

you give him the bottle, offering a sip. he takes a long one, not once breaking eye contact with you. when he hands it back to you, you can't help the mischievous grin that appears on your face. he looks at you with amused eyes. you pour the champagne on your neck and chest in a slow stream, not caring about pollution or wasting at this point. seonghwa takes the signal, and grabs your waist so that he can pull you closer. his tongue licks up the champagne from your neck, chest and collarbones. you are a moaning mess in his hands.

"if i would've known that all you needed was a few shots and a high schooler game, i would've done it the first day." you admit.

the wet dress sticks to your body, making it difficult to move in the water. you gasp when you feel his fingers dip between your thighs, resting on the pink bikini you've put on. with a silent approval from you, he moves the bottoms under your dress aside, middle finger slipping past your folds and thumb circling your clit. you shake under his touch, feelings too overwhelming.

"let me make love to you."

he says it so romantically, as if he isn't knuckles deep inside of you right now.

"let me show you a different way. my way."

and you give yourself to him. dragging him back to the shore, lips not once leaving his. not caring if anyone around you is watching. your dress comes off with a few difficulties, but now that you're out of it, you feel like you can breathe freely. your bikini top soon joins the dress in the sand next to you, but the chain, heels and panties stay. seonghwa spills more champagne over your exposed chest, and proceeds to lick it all up like a starved man.

"should i take off my-"

"no, please. i want to fuck you with your heels on."

"oh? that a fetish of yours?"

he blushes a little, looking down at the sparkly heels shining in the distant club lights.

"i like glitter." he simply says.

his fingers are in a rush to take your panties off, but before he can discard them along with the rest of his and your clothes, you speak. "a little warning."

"yes?"

"i can be loud."

"how loud?"

"very."

the young man looks around for a moment, as if thinking about something important. then, he simply shrugs. "okay."

before you can react, he shoves the panties in your mouth, catching you by surprise. he strokes himself a few times, too impatient for any foreplay. there was enough teasing all these days, he knows you can't take it either.

his warm cock slides between your folds with ease, your walls hugging it tightly. he groans, and you moan around the panties. his hands grip your waist, but not the rough grip. the strong, yet gentle grip. he moves his hips sensually, like waves rather than thrusts. he raises your hips a little, angling them so that he can reach better. your eyebrows scrunch with pleasure, eyes looking up at him as a plea for more.

"i know, i know. feels good, doesn't it?"

you nod, rolling your hips to match his rhythm. sand sticks to your skin, the smell of his perfume and champagne is making you feel dizzy, and the grip on your hips is only getting stronger. you haven't felt such pleasure in a long time.

the tip of his cock rubs the sensitive spot inside of you, making you whine and moan through the wet fabric.

"oh, you were just made for me, weren't you? look how good you're taking me. all of it."

your eyes roll at his dirty talk, and you promise yourself there that this won't be the last time you're hearing it.

"fuuuck..." he trails, plunging his hips into yours and touching your cervix along the way. he continues the hard but slow pumps, getting lost in the warm feeling of you. "fuck, you're so pretty for me. look at you, you fit in my hands like a perfect doll."

is that size kink coming from him? if yes, you are having so much fun finding out about him in a situation like this.

you whimper, feeling your orgasm approaching. he doesn't notice, instead, he is so lost in his own pleasure that he barely feels you clawing at his back as you cum hard on his cock.

"huh? what's that? you want more?"

tears drop down your cheeks, overwhelming pleasure washing over your body. you can't take it, but seonghwa doesn't ask. he only holds you in place, slowing his pace and giving you time to relax and regain composure.

but what's the use, when as soon as you calm from your high, he starts snapping his hips into yours again? you now shamelessly tug at his hair, not sure if it's from pain or pleasure. but both is good to you.

"fuck, can i cum in you?"

you nod, and if you could, you'd beg him to do so. seonghwa gets down, burying his face into the crook of your neck and shoulder, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing it in circles. you desperately groan into his ear, moving your hips with his movements. seonghwa's moves gradually become sloppy, losing the collected sensual waves and instead opting for harsh thrusts, tip of his cock touching your cervix and leaving your body shaking in his arms.

fireworks paint the sky, just like seonghwa paints your walls with his seed. your orgasm washes over you once again, and you feel yourself get slippery down there. he doesn't stop, helping both of you ride it out as fireworks keep going off above you.

seonghwa is the first to gain his consciousness, carefully removing the panties from your mouth. while you are still catching your breath, he kisses your tears away.

"hey?"

you hum, looking up at the colorful explosions.

"did i hurt you?"

"in normal circumstances, i would've said i wish. but this? you just made me never wish for rough sex again."

he only chuckles, then takes his discarded shirt from the small pile. he helps you sit up, then covers you with his shirt.

"thank you, hwa."

he puts his pants back on, sitting next to you. he grabs the bottle of leftover champagne, taking a sip before offering you one too. you take it, resting your head on his shoulder.

"happy birthday, noona."

"oh, you seriously have to stop that."

as you both laugh and stare at the reflection of the moon on the ocean surface, you can't help but feed the small hope you almost killed today. maybe seonghwa doesn't have to be a faded crush or a summer fling.

"say, when we get back, do you want to go out someti-" he starts, as if he read your thoughts.

"yes." you interrupt, planting a kiss on his cheek.

🐬feedback greatly appreciated! 💙

[zepskies]

Lost on You - Part 5

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Supe!Reader

Summary: 1983 is a big year for you. You’re finally chosen to join the ranks of Payback, led by the most (in)famous supe in the world: Soldier Boy. He’ll never admit that he’s trying his damndest to figure you out. You’ll never admit that he’s actually growing on you. But the problem with this game is deciding who’s the predator, and who is prey.

AN: We’re going deeper and darker on this one, with an ending you might not expect...

Word Count: 5.5K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. TW: attempted sexual assault (not successful), violence, character death, drug use, and a twist.

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Part 5: Eminence Front

Your last conversation with your mother was on a Sunday morning, in hospice.

You sat at her bedside and held her hand. Chris and your father were downstairs in the hospital food court, ordering sandwiches. You hadn’t had much of an appetite for three days.

“I had your father call the whole family so they could watch the music video with you and Soldier Boy,” your mom said. She wore a proud, if weak smile. “He even recorded a few tapes of it. He sent one to your aunt, another to your cousins, and another to our friends Leah and Stan.”

“Pretty sure that’s illegal piracy, Mom,” you said with a laugh.

“I don’t care. You’re my daughter, and you’ve worked incredibly hard to get here,” she said. Her eyes misted over a bit in memory. “We’ve all worked hard.”

You stilled at that. You didn’t know what memories she had filtering through her head, but you were sure your perspective behind the lens was…different.

In your mind’s eye, you saw yourself at twelve years old. Chris had been pestering you all day, as big brothers were wont to do sometimes. With a slap on his arm, you’d screamed at him to leave you alone.

He didn’t speak to you for a whole month. He didn’t go to your piano recital or your choir concert, where you had the best solo. He didn’t talk to you until you touched him again, grabbing his arm, pleading with him.

"Please, whatever I did, I'm sorry. Just talk to me!"

He startled as if he’d woken up from a dream.

Your parents had shared a look, and they’d known then that their gamble had worked.

You remembered being sat down by your mother and told that they had spent their entire life’s savings to make you a hero. So you were going to spend the rest of your young life training to be one.

“We’re investing in your future, but we’re also investing in ours.”

You remembered sleepover invites rejected and summer plans canceled on your behalf. Your mother used her meager retirement fund to sign you up for vocal lessons from a former opera singer. Your high school football coach father drilled you to condition your body like an athlete.

You never had a moment that wasn’t scheduled. You were always exhausted, taking whatever “supplements” your parents gave you to keep you going. (Often it was Adderall, until it started giving you insomnia, among other delightful side effects.)

You were miserable. Then again, you’d be surprised by what you could get used to.

The end goal was always getting into Payback. It was where you’d garner the most fame and make the most money, and therefore, make the most returns on your parents’ investments.

So your father later took out a loan to get you some basic combat training from an ex-Vought employee. Your parents wanted you to be well-rounded and prepared for anything when you got onto the team—and it was always when.

If was not part of the story.

Any small commercials and modelling gigs you landed throughout middle school and high school helped pay for your family’s bills, and later for college, where you double majored in Vocal Performance and Marketing. You would learn how to become your own brand.

Through it all, you always remembered what your mom had said to you on the set of your first commercial. You were crying because the hours were long and you missed your friends, and even your brother.

“Come on, let’s wipe those tears. You don’t want to smudge your makeup,” she’d said. When you couldn’t be consoled, she guided you over to a quieter corner of the set. “Listen, sweetheart. Don’t let them see you upset. You'll get a reputation for being difficult to work with.”

“I don’t care! I don’t want to do this anymore,” you said, sniffling badly as you scrubbed at your eyes. Your mother sighed sharply.

“You’re just starting out. Of course there are going to be growing pains,” she said. “Showbusiness is a cutthroat world, and yes, you’re so young. Maybe too young.”

She wiped your face with gentler hands, then she laid them on your shoulders and made sure you met her eyes.

“But you’re going to be better prepared than most superheroes. You can literally read men. You know what’s in their hearts, and you can control them. As a woman in this world, do you know how damn powerful that is?” she said.

She squeezed your shoulders.

“That’s why you’ll be smarter than any of them, and you’ll only show the world what you want them to see.”

What you want them to see…

“We don’t have to talk about that right now,” you said at last.

Your mom nodded and stroked your hand. Her eyes fell closed in rest. She looked so small and frail in her bed.

“I’m so, so proud of you,” she said. “Always remember that.”

Your lower lip trembled, and your eyes stung. You couldn’t help but feel hollow. What was there to be proud of? You’d failed. All your hard work was meant to give your family a better life, not…this.

“You’re so beautiful and talented,” she continued. “And you’ll get your father out from under these medical bills I put on him, won’t you?”

Deep in your soul, a painful ache twinged.

You ignored it and nodded in agreement.

“I’ll take care of Dad, don’t worry.”

Your mother died the next morning. You wrote a statement about her passing to explain your absence to your fans. It went through Madelyn Stillwell and Arthur before they released the press release and even had it covered in Vought News. Then you spent the next week entrenched in funeral arrangements with your father and brother.

When you eventually returned to Vought Tower after the funeral, it felt like another part of you had chipped off.

Your room was filled with flowers and gifts from your fans, which managed to make you wide-eyed, and even tearfully touched. So this was the power of fame, then?

But there was one vase filled with beautiful scarlet roses. Attatched was a handwritten note:

Welcome home.

You thought you recognized the scrawl. A small smile graced your lips.

You gave into the desire to venture up to the penthouse floor, and knock on Ben’s door. He opened it himself. He was dressed down for once in the afternoon, in a normal sweater rolled up to his elbows and tucked into his slacks. Once he saw you, he was a little surprised.

You held up the note for his view. “Was this you?”

He smiled slightly, but he didn’t answer you. He just welcomed you inside. You followed him into the living room area and sat heavily on the couch. An album was playing on his record player. You recognized Sinatra’s smooth voice singing “My Way.”

“You want a drink?” Ben asked.

“Whiskey, neat,” you replied. He rose a brow, but he fulfilled your request.

While he was busy, you grabbed his forgotten half a blunt from the ashtray on the coffee table, and you lit up. You didn’t often partake in drugs because you didn’t like being out of your lucid mind. You preferred being in control.

Today was different. You needed a distraction. Maybe that was why you were here to begin with.

You accepted the glass he handed to you and took a generous sip, though you coughed at the burn on the way down. And you took a puff, the smoke irritating your throat even more. You practically coughed up half a lung, until he sat down beside you and reached out his hand. You passed the blunt back to him. You two traded off hits until it was more than halfway down to the roach, and he eventually put it out on the ashtray.

“My offer still stands, you know,” he said.

You turned to him. Even in your “enlightened” state, you could feel his intentions. The way he roamed your body with his eyes was unmistakable, but just then, you had a moment of clarity. You couldn’t be bothered to play this game, or hide your true thoughts for that matter. You smiled to yourself, and you stood.

Ben got up with you, trying to gauge your reaction.

“Thank you,” you said, “for finally showing me who you really are.”

His lips slowly pulled into a frown. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“My mom died,” you said. “I know you knew that, but you couldn’t even muster up a basic ‘I’m sorry for your loss,’ or whatever the fuck.”

You even laughed through the spark of tears. You wiped at your face. “This place is exactly what I thought it would be.”

The man was silent while you finished the drink in one long gulp. You slammed the glass on his counter, and you left his apartment.

It wasn’t the first time Ben watched you walk away from him, but despite his outward stoicism, it was the first time he felt the sting of it.

You knew it would be difficult at Vought, but you were finding it more and more challenging to keep focused as the months went by.

On one mission, Ben threw a man out of a three-story apartment. He lived, by some miracle, but shattered almost every bone in his body.

On another, Black Noir choke-slammed an escaped convict so hard, her esophagus caved in. And it was a good day if the TNT Twins even zapped the right culprit.

You were increasingly wary of the collateral damage and violence you were being complicit in, just by being there. You had to keep reminding yourself of why you were here. You needed to take care of your father, who was still swimming in your mother’s medical bills and funeral costs. You needed to prove to yourself that you could do this, with or without Ben’s help.

Even so, a day you were called to a full team mission made you more anxious than excited.

It was a drug ring that the police had been trying to dismantle for nearly a decade: Los Reyes. They were the "kings of cocaine," and they were brutal in their retaliations, locked in a turf war with one of the Italian mafias. As Stan Edgar had explained, the police were grateful for any help that Payback could provide.

You guys were sent to a warehouse in Hell’s Kitchen. According to law enforcement intel, it was the base of the Reyes gang's operations.

Infiltrating it was the easy part. Countess blasted right through the front doors, revealing your entire team to the group of men huddled around entire tables and crates filled with product.

When a man aimed a gun at you, Ben threw his shield. It hit the man, who then crashed into a support beam and broke his back in half. Your eyes went wide in horror at seeing his lifeless ones. You gaped up at Ben.

“Was that really necessary?” you asked in alarm.

"Would you rather get shot?” he said coolly.

The others picked off a few men in the room, but the rest of the gang scattered into other rooms within the large building. Ben barked commands for who should go in which direction.

“Sirena, you’re with Swatto. Head east towards the alley and cut off any rats,” he commanded.

You wanted to take issue with being partnered with Swatto. You glanced over at him. After how you compelled him a few months ago, he still had a grudge against you as well. But you two knew better than to argue with Soldier Boy on a mission.

You and your partner ducked out the east side into the alley. Sure enough, you saw blood splatters on the wall from a handprint, and drips of blood leading down the concrete path. After sharing a nod, you and Swatto followed the line of blood.

You turned the corner into a dusty construction site, where a new skyscraper was only partially built. Some walls were up along with the foundation, but it was mostly dirt, bare concrete walls, and piles of brick.

When you turned a corner, you and Swatto stopped short as bullets rained your way.

“Oh, fuck!” Swatto shouted. He pulled out his gun and decided to fly above. You heard more shots and men screaming, and then, it was quiet. You cocked your own gun, though you hoped you didn’t have to use it. The problem with your powers was you needed to be close enough to touch someone to actually compel them, man or woman.

Your last resort was your actual siren song, a power you rarely used. Mainly because it was lethal to any man who heard it. For that reason, it had to be your in case of emergency break glass tactic.

So you crept around the corner to see what Swatto had done. You were surprised to find that he fought well. He managed to kill a few of them, but one large man was still alive. He was on his knees in the dirt with his hands folded behind his head.

“See? Ain’t so fuckin’ tough now, huh?” Swatto taunted. “Get ready to get fucked in the ass in jail, Paco.”

You grimaced in disgust. “All right, that’s enough. Just—”

Before you could realize what was happening, the man raised up from the ground and swept the gun from Swatto’s hands. It flew across the clearing and hit the wall, setting the gun off. A bullet ricocheted and grazed Swatto in the side. 

“Aw, fuck! I’m fucking hit!” he yelled in alarm. His wings expanded from his back, and he raised off the ground in flight. Your eyes widened.

“Where the hell are you going?” you shouted.

“I’m hit! I need a hospital!” His voice grew smaller as he flew away like a fucking coward.

It left you alone with a man twice your size. He seized you up with a smirk.

“Hey, baby,” he said. “You’re the new one, right?”

You raised your gun and fired, but you were too late. He evaded and grabbed the gun from your hands. You held your ground after the first punch, but the second and third made your legs shake. You were more durable than the average human, and you were well trained. Unfortunately, you didn’t have super strength like most of your teammates.

You blocked when you could and gave blows of your own, but this man was large enough that it didn’t slow him for long. He wore a sweatshirt with long sleeves, so you couldn’t easily compel him with a touch.

Okay, this warrants an emergency, you thought in alarm. When you opened your mouth to sing, he shot out a sharp blow to your throat. Maybe he thought you were going to scream for help, but it had its intended effect of choking you into silence.

He grabbed you and proceeded to beat you down, until you felt the sharp breaking of ribs and blood and dirt in your mouth. Every time you tried to slip away or get to your feet and escape, he knocked you back down. He was toying with you, and having fun with it too. You could sense his sick enjoyment.

But then, you felt his intentions shift. Darker, and more carnal. A more intense fear coiled in your stomach, rising up into your throat. A gasp got stuck there as you tried harder to crawl away.

He grabbed your ankle and dragged you back towards him. He took your wrists when you tried to claw at his eyes, or even just touch his face to try and enforce your power over his.

Just a scrap of skin. That’s all you need.

A whimper escaped you as you struggled, but you kneed him hard between the legs. That managed to stop him for a moment as he grunted and cursed. He got a hold of a meaty hand around your neck. Your eyes glowed in desperation.

Suddenly, the man’s weight lifted off you.

You panted for breath and raised yourself up on your elbow. You watched with wide eyes as Ben slammed your attacker’s face into the dirt until he couldn’t breathe. Ben glanced at you, taking in the sight of your bloody face and cut lip, your arm wrapped around your battered ribs.

His frown deepening in displeasure, he bent the man’s arm until it broke in at least two places. His howls of pain echoed into the night. Ben cut it off by twisting the man’s neck, until it released a loud crack.

He threw the body to the ground in disgust. He barely even wiped his gloves before he stood straighter. Then he went back to you.

“You all right?” he asked gruffly.

You stared up at him with tears shining in your eyes. You tried to answer, but it hurt your throat. It was also painful for you to move your body. You tasted blood in your mouth and knew it had dribbled down your chin.

With a rough exhale through his nose, Ben lowered down and slid his hands underneath your body. You cringed and cried out when he moved you, but you were grateful. You were embarrassed. And you were exhausted.

Tears streamed down your cheeks as you folded your arms over your battered middle. You couldn't help but lay your head against his chest.

The rest of the team was waiting at the other end of the clearing, except for Swatto. Even Countess was quiet as she watched Ben carry you out of the construction site.

You spent a couple of days in the hospital. There you were surrounded by Vought security fielding off any journalists or tabloids, and you were accompanied by your dad and brother.

Chris especially was angry for you, not to mention worried, but you tried to hide your pain and reassure them that you would be okay. This was just par for the course when taking down the bad guys.

Yeah, that one sounded hollow, even to you.

You were grateful when you got out of the hospital and were sent back to the Tower. Even so, the doctor had you mostly on bedrest until your ribs healed up. You weren’t proud of it, but you wallowed in your embarrassment and a bit of self-pity while you watched a marathon of Cheers and ate from a box of assorted chocolates. You dug around for your favorites, but you kept getting the weird shitty filling ones.

“Sometimes you wanna go where everybody knows your name, and they’re always glad you came,” sang the TV show theme song. “You wanna be where you can see, our troubles are all the same. You wanna be where everybody knows your name…” 

“Bullshit,” you muttered aloud. Such was your grouchiness that you had half a mind to change the channel. This godforsaken sitcom was too damn cheery, no matter how much you loved Ted Danson’s fine, rugged ass.

God. Maybe I do have a type.

That was when a knock at the door threatened to disrupt your solitude.

“Who is it?”

“It’s me.”

You’d now recognize that smooth, deep voice anywhere. Sighing, you closed the box of chocolates and hid them under your pillow before you turned off the TV.

“Come in,” you said.

Ben stepped into your apartment and soon found you in your room. It was the first time he’d ever been in here, and he took a subtle look around. He wore his suit and tactical gear.

“Just come from a mission?” you asked.

He nodded and approached your bed. He smiled slightly.

“Eating your feelings in Whitman’s, huh?” he teased, tapping his nose. He could probably smell the chocolate.

You blushed and crossed your arms on reflex, but you grimaced when the motion made your ribs twinge sharply. You made a sound of discomfort and lowered your arms back to your sides. You shifted in the bed as slowly as you could. You’d been in this position for a while.

“How’re you holding up?” he asked.

“Oh, I’m peachy,” you groused. When you looked up at him though, you realized that he hadn't needed to come visit you. He was here of his own free will…and there was something you had yet to say to him. You sighed and met him with sincerity.

“Look…thank you, for saving me,” you said.

Ben inclined his head. He lowered down and sat beside you on the edge of your bed.

“You may not like how I run things here, but this is the way of it,” he said, holding your gaze. “This is the real fucking world. If you’re going to stay here, you need to get with that program, or this place is going to chew you up and spit you out.”

That fell between you two for a moment. The more you turned his words over in your mind, the more you realized that he was right, to a point. If you stayed, this was your life. You couldn’t keep handwringing. You had to be smarter.

“I’m sorry, I’m not looking very camera ready,” you said eventually. You meant it to be joking, but your voice was heavy. “I wouldn’t blame you for averting your eyes.”

You half expected him to make a joke about your black eye and torn lip. But to your surprise, Ben picked up your hand with a kind of gentleness. He raised the back of it up to his lips for a kiss. He gave you a reserved smile.

“Rest up,” he said.

He got up and strode out of your apartment. Not for the first time, he left you feeling unbalanced…and this time warm.

It took a few weeks for you to fully heal. You agreed to do an interview with Jason Carver, the anchor of Vought News. It was a bit intimidating being in yet another studio, and this was live.

The cameras aren’t there. This is just a stage like any other. You’re just…having a conversation, you coached yourself. You sat in an uncomfortable leather chair across from Jason at his desk.

When he got the green light from the producer, he kicked off the show by introducing you as his special guest.

“Can I just say, Sirena, we’re all very glad to see you’re all right,” he said, with a very convincing note of sincerity. Your abilities allowed you to read the truth.

Only show them what you want them to see.

You gave him a grateful smile.  

“Thanks, Jason. I appreciate that. It’s just…hazards of the job description, you know?” you said. “But I’m doing much better, and I’m very thankful that my team was there to support me.”

“Yes, the rest of Payback really stepped up to not only apprehend your attacker, but round up the entire Reyes gang. Is that right?” he said.

You nodded, reading the teleprompter. You were meant to go on a mini monologue about how great your team was, and how grateful you were to be a part of it. It was a script approved by Madelyn, and even Stan Edgar.

You paused, glancing over to where Arthur and Madelyn stood in the dark with the rest of the crew. They were both looking at you encouragingly, but expectant.

You took a steadying breath, and you decided to go a bit off-script.

“Well, actually, it was Soldier Boy who saved me,” you said. Jason’s brows rose at your shift in direction, but he reacted with all due interest.

“Really?” he prodded.

“Yes, he did,” you said. The memories of that night filtered through your mind with harrowing detail, including the way Ben stepped in and brutally handled that man. “He didn’t even hesitate. He just threw himself into the fray…and when it was over, he carried me to the hospital himself.”

That part wasn’t exactly true. He’d carried you over to a Vought-owned SUV, and the director of the camera crew drove you over to the hospital. You decided to gloss over that detail, and many others.

“Wow,” Jason said. He shook his head in wonder. “He truly lives up to the legend, doesn’t he?”

You smiled. “He’s more than that. Believe it or not, Soldier Boy was the first one to take me under his wing. He knew I was new to the city, so he guided me all over New York to see the sights like a tourist. Stuff I’m sure he’s seen millions of times, like Top of the Rock and Times Square. Oh, and he was also very gracious when my nephew came to visit. Got me some major brownie points for ‘Best Aunt in the World.’”

That earned you a congenial smile from your host. Your expression faded with a kind of weight in your heart.

“Ever since I got here, he’s been the one to tell it like it is, with that deep, authoritative voice of his,” you said, laughing a little when you tried to imitate Ben’s voice. It got you a laugh, even from those in the studio. “In a way, he’s the one who’s looked out for me the most. I’m very grateful for Soldier Boy, and of course for the rest of my team.”

When you finished, Jason nodded and clapped along with everyone else in the studio.

“Well, that’s just wonderful. Well said,” he said, and he looked straight into the camera with two fingers poised at his temple. “Soldier Boy, if you’re watching, we all appreciate you. And we salute you.”

Ben watched the clip from his living room with a small, incredulous smile on his face.

He wiped the remnants of white powder from his nose and sneezed. Blinking the bleariness out of his eyes, he refocused on the screen while you talked about him. He knew you had to be playing it up for Jason and the cameras, but you also seemed so sincere.

“He’s more than that.”

After the segment was over, he enjoyed the climax of his high while sitting back on his plush sofa. He tossed up an old baseball from his collection up towards the ceiling, this one signed by Babe Ruth. He caught it when gravity pulled it back down towards his face.

That was how Donna found him when she let herself into his apartment. She was out of her suit and wearing a little red dress, one of his old favorites. She graced him with a sultry smile.

“Busy?” she asked.

“Evidently,” he said.

She pouted, almost like a little girl. She went to him and curled herself under his arm and against his chest, draping a smooth thigh over his.

“I miss you,” she purred.

He smiled wryly and turned off the TV.

“Really now?” he drawled. “Because by my calculations it’s been…what, a few months since we’ve fucked?”

Donna paused, the smile slipping from her face.

“And I’m not counting that hand job a couple weeks back. That shit was pitiful, and a little chafing,” he said.

For the past few months, he’d been wracking his brain to remember what it was that had attracted him to this woman, besides the obvious outer packaging. He knew the difference now.

In the beginning, she idolized him. Worshipped him. Loved him. These days, she only came to him when she wanted something, and he had gotten bored. Bored of her.

As if sensing his shift, Donna moved her leg off his lap and sat up with a frown.

“Well, then let me fix it,” she said, as she slid a hand up his thigh. Suddenly she was all too willing to use those red-painted lips to service him. 

Ben couldn’t help but envision those lips as yours, a sinful red, while your mouth did sinful things. He’d gotten off more than once to the thought of it alone, ever since he shot that goddamn music video with you.

So he grabbed Donna’s wandering hand and looked at her coolly.

“Look, for whatever reason, I know you’re not happy,” he said, waving dismissively with his other hand. “Neither of us are. So let’s just stop wasting time.”

Her eyes widened. “What’re you saying?”

Ben’s brows furrowed. “Am I speaking fucking English? It’s time to call it quits, sweetheart.”

Donna’s jaw worked as she fought to keep herself under control. He had a feeling she’d be angry. She always was a little spitfire.

Her body was coiled like a spring when she withdrew her hand from his and got to her feet. She gave him an icy look.

“This isn’t going to last,” she claimed, with a prideful tilt of her chin. “In a month, a week, you’ll get tired of her. And you’ll remember that I’m the one who looks best by your side.”

Ben huffed in amusement before he laid back again. He continued to toss up his baseball.

“Keep telling yourself that,” he said dismissively. 

Donna let loose an aggravated breath, but she kept most of her reaction inside. She turned on her heel, prideful as ever, and left his apartment.

When her fingers landed on the doorknob, however, she turned back for just a moment. Silence greeted her.

It wasn’t until then that her tears finally bubbled over.

Days later, a knock on your door drew your attention out of pulling on some jeans. You were intending to go on a walk through the city, take some time to get out of the Tower and just be you for a change.

That had better not be Madelyn at the door again. She had chastised you for going off-script at the studio twice already. She made the point that she and Stan had gone over those talking points for weeks, and agreed that framing your rescue as a team effort would cover Swatto as well.

He was still laid up with a broken leg, long after the scrape of the bullet had healed. He was tight-lipped about how he’d broken said leg, but you’d heard from Tommy that he’d shattered it…somehow.

Arthur had smoothed things over about your adlib though. He pointed out that talking positively about Soldier Boy helped the whole team. He was the leader, after all.

So yeah, you hoped this visit wasn’t another passive aggressive dress down from the head of PR. You sighed and went over to get the door. You were thoroughly surprised to see Ben.

And a Ben that was wearing a regular suit, for that matter. He looked like he’d stepped out of a Hugo Boss catalogue, steeped in charcoal gray with a long black coat draped over his arm. Your mouth parted in soft shock, especially when he produced a single rose from behind his back.

You took it with tentative fingers and a blush rising hotly in your cheeks.

“Okay, what—”

“Let me take you out,” he said. “One night. You’ll get to see what it’s like to be with the most famous man in the world.”

What an opening line that was. You sensed he was in full Charm City mode, complete with a suave smile. Yours was more amused, even though you twisted the flower's soft petals lightly on your chin in contemplation.

After a few seconds to think, you gave him a patient look.

“Ben, nothing’s changed for me. I told you, I–”

“Countess and I are done, for real this time,” he said.

Once again, you were taken by surprise—mostly because he was telling the truth. You felt it.

Your brows knitted together in confusion. “When did this happen?”

“Recently,” he shrugged. “But like I said, it hasn’t been working for a while. It was a mutual thing.”

You weren’t so sure about that, but… 

This is what I wanted, you reminded yourself. In fact, it had been half what you’d hoped for when you went off-script. You just couldn’t believe it had worked this well, so soon. As much as you probably shouldn’t, part of you began to feel bad for manipulating him. For lying to him.

But it’ll be good for my career.

“…Okay,” you agreed, glancing down at your plain shirt and jeans. “Just give me some time to change.”

He raised a brow. “How much time?”

You gave him a slightly cheeky smile. “An hour, and I’ll meet you in the lobby.”

He sighed, but he agreed.

“Just don’t keep me waiting all fucking day,” he said.

“Come on. What’s a little delayed gratification?” you teased. Then you gave him a more sincere smile. “I’ll see you later.”

Ben nodded, with some added charm in the look he gave you in return.

You slipped back into your apartment and shut the door. You paused there when a thought struck you.

Shit, now what am I going to wear?

AN: Did you see that one coming?

A lot of darker angst and drama in this one, sorry for that. But I think you may like what's coming up...

Next Time:

You slid your hand over his on the table. You felt him stiffen slightly, his body tensing up at your touch. You frowned when you saw the glint of wariness cross his face.

“I won’t compel you again, Ben. I promise,” you said. As long as you don’t give me a reason to.

Your hand traveled up his arm, soothing along his neck, your palm finally resting against his cheek. His green eyes stared into yours.

Soon enough, his wariness bled away into desire.

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 6

Ko-Fi Me ☕

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[diejager]

My favourite type of people is those mfks that never give up and whenever they're in a bad situation they just end up going apeshit crazy. Now imagine reader, someone who actively fights against the government, versus Corrupt 141

Cw: DARKFIC, CORRUPT!141, corruption, abuse of power, mentioned death/murder, kidnapping, tell me if I missed any.

You can’t remember the time where powerful people weren’t corrupt, tempted by greed and self-empowerment, tempted by knowledge and influence. You can’t remember the time where all your heartfelt emotions, soft touches and deep connections meant something when it was all a ruse, hidden under embellished words and beautiful promises that worked wonders to silence you suspicion. Their smiles and tender affection drowned out every dark gleam in their eyes, covering the miasma that followed them everywhere they went, like a shadow of one’s sin. You wondered how naive you were. So willing to comply to be praised and rewarded with a soft pat on the head by your older teammates —ones you thought you could trust, ones you once thought were righteous and loving.

You were blinded by your optimism, your beliefs and their reputation. After all, who would believe that the famous Task Force 141 would be corrupt? Famously known for thwarting murders, terrorist and crime lords from accomplishing their goals, for saving countless lives from mass murder or potential death, and for being so wildly loved and sought after. They were a rare commodity to a low ranking soldier like you, but you’d somehow garnered their attention and interest, brought into their ranks believing that you’d be of use in their conquest to protect the world.

But you should have known better. The subtle glances back and forth, the purposeful wording and the hushed conversation in secrets. There was a plague of secrecy, hidden right under your nose until you caught them in a mumbled conversation, whispered words about taking away a man’s family and using it as leverage, only for you to watch them kill the man’s sons and daughters under the pretence of them being terrorists. You’d been so enraged that you hadn’t thought up a plan before you confronted Price about it.

“But they were innocent!”

“It was a means to an end,” he hadn’t reacted to your screech, neither the hateful glare you’d sent his way nor your erratic hand movement, “To drive our point.”

You scowled and stepped towards him, your name falling from his lips as a warning. He reminded you where you were standing, in his office, surrounded by the three other men and on your own. Laswell wouldn’t help you, she was the one who fed them information and helped plan these clandestine Ops. General Shepherd wouldn’t hesitate to dispose of you, he was the one who cleared them, who sent you on these Ops, and he would stop at nothing to keep his money and reputation. 

“What point, Price?” You scoffed, huffing at the mounting tension, the growing apprehension you felt when the others closed in on you, “That you’d do anything for power?”

He dared sigh at you, as if you were a misbehaving child he was exhausted by:

“No, but you wouldn’t understand, would you?”

His eyes filled with disappointment, the sudden frown that darkened his face when he bobbed his head, lips pulled in what seemed to be regret. You weren’t able to get another word, your world turning black in frightful struggle and looming danger.

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[agirlwithglam]

S.M.A.R.T goals:

How to set and achieve your goals

What does SMART stand for?

S - specific. don't just set vague goals like "i wanna get fit" or "i wanna get abs". how are you gonna know when/ where to start? if you want to get fit: your goal could be "go to the gym for 30 mins everyday" or "i want to run 5k in under 30 mins". whatever works for you. some other examples: -> if your big goal is to get high marks on your next test: your "mini" goals/ steps should be to study everyday for at least 30-60mins. -> if your big goal is to get money/ become rich: your steps/ mini goals should be to save $___ daily first. and also figure out a way you can make a mini business/ get a job.

M - measurable. make sure that your goals are measurable- meaning that you should be able to track them. some examples: -> if your goal is to read more: then create or find a habit tracker or something so everyday when you read, you can mark it down for that day. ! recommended resource: James Clear's habit tracker journal- you can find it on amazon.

A - Achievable keep your goals realistic and attainable. if you know you dont have the time/ energy to read a whole book in 1 week, dont do it- otherwise you'll get easily discouraged. the goldilocks principle: don't make it too easy, where it doesn't give you a challenge, but don't make it too hard either, otherwise you'll get easily discouraged.

R - Relevant basically a WHY. why do you want/ need to accomplish this goal? have a motivation which drives you. make sure your goal is relevant to you in some sort of way. example: -> if you want to learn a language such as spanish, why do you wanna learn it? because you want to travel to Spain one day? to be able to communicate with someone? even if the purpose is as simple as "wanting to be bilingual cus it makes me feel cool and impressive" - if that motivates you, then go ahead!

T - time bound your goals need to have some sort of deadline or urgency attached to it- otherwise you could take all the time you want to start and procrastinate as much as you want. having a deadline for the goal will motivate you to take action sooner, than later.

how to use SMART goals effectively:

decide on the goal. (something that you actually need/ want to accomplish.)

break it down into smaller steps. (very small. so small that you can start working on whatever it is NOW.) you want to get high marks on your test? lets break it down. study 30 mins everyday -> walk to desk -> get material out -> identify what you need to study -> find your weaker topics & write it out -> create a planner or smth -> start studying. // need help? find videos online, go thru material again, find study tips, etc.

write them down. (helps you stay accountable. also people who write their goals down are 42% more likely to achieve them than people who don't write it down.)

create an action plan. (relates to the 2nd point. outline the necessary steps to take, identify resources, set milestones, plan for potential obstacles.)

monitor and evaluate progress. (regularly review your goals, mistakes, and progress. what could you do better to be more efficient and quicker? how can you learn from your mistakes?)

stay committed and flexible. (you really need to be committed to achieve the goals, you shouldn't just start off super excited, doing great in the first week then slacking off. you've made a commitment to YOURSELF. respect yourself enough to stick to it! but also be flexible with your goals. if you're reeeallyy not able to do it one day, plan to do a bit more the next day. stay focussed and don't get discouraged by setbacks.)

celebrate achievements. (recognise when you've hit a major milestone, and celebrate it! this helps you maintain motivation and a sense of accomplishment. and reward yourself!!)

random additional tips:

visualisation. (such a strong form of manifestation. everyday visualise yourself with your goals, feeling all the emotions and thoughts that come with it! visualisation can also really boost your motivation and drive to achieve it.)

PRIORITIES. (remember that also, all goals aren't equally important. prioritise the ones that really matter. this doesn't mean that you can't focus on the other goals, just make sure the ones that need more attention, get more attention.)

positive language. (use kind and encouraging words towards yourself. know and understand that you are that girl who can achieve ANYTHING she sets her mind to.)

seek support. (ask friends and family or a mentor for help. if you want, be careful tho, share your goals with them to help you stay accountable. and if you know a person who's achieved your goals, GET ADVICE FROM THEM! where better to get advice from than someone who's been through what you're going through?)

stay organised. (self explanatory. just stay organised. messy space = messy mind. clean space = clean mind.)

maintain balance. (of course your goals are important, but so is the age you're currently at. especially if you're a teenage, DONT WASTE THESE YEARS!! get out of the house! make friends! go to parties! LIVE LIFE TO ITS FULLEST. also make sure that you get the adequate rest needed!)

write about your journey. (write about the struggles, the obstacles, how you overcame them, insights you got on this journey, etc. trust me, it'll be so interesting and helpful to read when you're older.)