#it's just such a stark contrast and it's symbolic and it's cute and it's beautiful

[nanabansama]

Card Set Hanakotoba

Recently I was discussing with my lovely friend @istoleyourboat about the meanings behind the flowers in this new card set, and I felt the urge to chronicle them somewhere! I thought you guys might get a kick out of it, too, so this seemed as good a place as any to put it.

So without further ado...

1. Hanako-kun - Queen of the Night

The Queen of the Night (月下美人) is a cactus flower that blooms just once a year for a single night. Because of this, the most heavily associated meanings with the flower are "transient beauty", "fleeting love," and "the urge to see someone just once."

The short-lived life of this flower feels quite fitting for our ghosty boy! I also like how the flower looks both beautiful and unsettling...all around a fantastic choice by AidaIro.

2. Nene Yashiro - Strawberry Blossoms

If you have paid attention to the Hanakotoba in TBHK before, then Nene being associated with strawberries should be nothing new to you. Regardless, the prevalent Hanakotoba for Strawberry Blossoms (イチゴ) are "love," "innocence," and "you make me happy."

The "you make me happy" one makes me want to kick my feet around and squeal a little. Isn't that cute!? I also feel the strawberry is especially fitting for Nene because it seems like something she would grow in her Gardening Club.

3. Kou - Clivia

Otherwise known by the names Bush Lily or Natal Lily, the Hanakotoba for Clivia (君子蘭) are "sincere," "noble" and "good-hearted."

I think this all fits very nicely with our resident good boy Kou, hm?

4. Teru - Bird of Paradise

The Bird of Paradise (ストレリチア) symbolizes "faithfulness," "magnificence," "a bright future" and "superficial love."

Even at a glance this flower really pops out at you, making it a great fit for the ever-impressive Teru. I really, really love this choice!!

5. Sakura - Hellebore

Otherwise known as the Christmas Rose, the Hellebore (クリスマスローズ) represents "reminiscence," "never forget me" and "notice my woes."

The way this beautiful flower seems to cast its head down makes it look almost sad. I suppose that's why it has such pitiful meanings associated with it!

6. Natsuhiko - King Protea

King Protea (キングプロテア), also known as the Sugarbush, symbolizes "strength," "courage," "resilience," and "a king's quality."

If you notice, Natsuhiko always has a little crown-shaped tuft hidden in his hair, so AidaIro associating Natsuhiko with a flower that references royalty pleases me. There's still a lot of mystery surrounding him, but we can at least confirm that Natsuhiko is, indeed, strong and resilient.

7. Akane - Ivy

The plain, non-flowering ivy stands out in stark contrast to the other plants here, but that's because the hanakotoba for it is just that good. Ivy (ヘデラ) means "everlasting love," "I take this feeling to the afterlife," "faithfulness", and "marriage."

Like, if that doesn't scream Akane, I don't know what does.

8. Aoi - Hydrangea

Again, if you've been paying attention to Hanakotoba in the series, this will not be the first time you've seen Aoi paired with hydrangea. Regardless, hydrangea (アジサイ) represents "enduring love," "mystique," and "fickleness."

The hydrangea is also associated with rejection, more specifically the coldness of a person who rejects the romantic advances of another. It's just such a perfect Aoi flower, there's no wonder AidaIro is so attached to it.

💐🌸🌼🌻🌷🌹🥀🌺

Thank you for reading till the end! And I urge you to look up these flowers yourself and see if you can find any meaning to them I may have missed. You might find something brilliant that I completely overlooked!

#tbhk #jshk #toilet bound hanako kun #hanakotoba #aoi akane #akane aoi #hanako kun #nene yashiro #amane yugi #natsuhiko hyuuga #sakura nanamine #teru minamoto #kou minamoto

[golvio]

Still thinking about the stark contrast between the general grim, highly-restrained stoicism of TotK Ganondorf’s human form compared to the exaggerated, rapidly shifting moods of “Yippee! :D Whee!! :DD Wahoo!!! :DDD *does a cute little backflip*” and “YOU STOP RUINING MY FUN RIGHT NOW OR I WILL THROW A BIG DIVO TEMPER TANTRUM AND WRECK EVERYTHING!” of his Demon King form.

Guy’s pretty obviously repressed as hell, and I think that’s one of the reasons he always goes off the rails the second he gets a chance to step out of his ceremonial One Special Man role. However, the fact that what he’s repressing feels so…childish, even the violent parts…I’m wondering if the guy ever got the chance to be a child when he was actually little.

Maybe he got yelled at and punished for making simple inexperienced baby mistakes the way Zelda was because he was under similar pressure to Fix Everything and symbolically parent all his adult subjects/family members as a Symbol of Hope that could soothe their fears and anxieties on-demand. (Not to mention Buliara’s mom raised a bit of a red flag about authoritarian parenting styles being common in Gerudo military families). Only instead of just suppressing everything and standing perfectly still and quiet in public while floundering in private like Zelda did, he got extremely skilled at convincing the people around him he was the mature, unflappable, strong, comforting, and eternally available collective cultural father-figure who’d guide them out of the hard times they were trying to hammer him into.

Only…that wasn’t real personal development, only the illusion of development. He encased his true personality in the superficial shell of the sexy manly-man hero that everyone wanted him to be. The second he was able to emerge from that shell without anyone being able to punish him for it, that inner traumatized little jerk immediately started lashing out in revenge at the people who held him to such an impossible standard in an effort to finally feel in control of his own life. It’s like a former child star melting down upon entering adulthood after being denied agency and independence by the studio they’re contracted with and their financially profiting family for so long, only with magic and the forsaking of one’s own humanity involved.

That underlying theme of metamorphosis throughout the game, echoed in Kotlin’s “dream,” could’ve been capitalized on here. The people loved the shiny gold cocoon the weak, helpless larva formed, begging it to never emerge so they could enjoy its beauty forever. But he knows, he knows that if he never breaks open the shell encasing him, he’ll die before he ever gets the chance to unfurl his wings. The form they love is incomplete, shallow, temporary. He’ll die if he can’t discard it. He would rather be alive and horrible to behold than dead and perfect. The people will hate what emerges from their jewel, but in this new shape he can sting and bite back, so let them hate him.

But, also, just…could you imagine if we had a chance to meet The Cocoon and the people who worshipped it, saying how much they love their king while knowing absolutely nothing about him, only to find out he had his own “secret sanctuary” much like Zelda did? Somewhere we could glimpse the soft, hungry insect of his soul that yearned to break free? What we’d see in the pieces of his secret joys scattered around and the scratches of his notes would be something ugly, bitter, childishly self-centered, yes. But in there would also be real passion, real feeling, a real life desperate to finally live that would make the handsome shell brandishing a sword feel hollow, uncanny, and downright off-putting by comparison.

#loz thoughts #totk spoilers #ganondorf #caps warning #gettin’ real speculative here #i doubt nintendo put THAT much thought into this guy #but it’s still a possibility that intrigues me

[saturnville]

I. Inaugural Veil

→ pairing: Coriolanus Snow x Lyra Ravenshroud (blackfem oc)

→ summary: President Coriolanus Snow introduces himself to the Capitol Senate, where he meets newly elected Reform Advocate Senator Lyra Ravenshroud.

→ tags: @snowlandsontopp @babyzzlove @hlstead @rosewine-5 @unicornqueen05 @thegabbyh @neeville @fastlikealambo @urfavesim

→ an: depending on how y'all like this, I'll continue it. if not, it can stand as a standalone.

→ reminder: reblogs and comments are much appreiciated!

President Coriolanus Snow, a towering figure of authority, ascended the grand stage with an air of regal confidence. His platinum blond hair, meticulously styled in a sleek comeover, caught the glint of the spotlight, emphasizing the sharp angles of his aristocratic features. Dressed in a crimson red suit that spoke of power and ambition, a single white rose adorned his lapel—a symbol of both purity and calculated charm.

Icy blue eyes, cold as the very name he carried, scanned the crowd with an analytical precision. He caught the green eyes of a young woman as he spoke to the Capitol Senate. She was a cute woman, he noted. Her fair skin was beet-red as she attempted to maintain eye-contact wit the President. The corners of his mouth raised as he attempted to mask his smirk.

His smile, a masterpiece of beauty and charisma, played effortlessly upon his lips. It was a weapon, finely honed through years of navigating the intricate web of Capitol politics. The allure of his charm was unmatched, a force that had won over even the most skeptical hearts in the Capitol.

The Capitol Senate room was carefully crafted by the strong hands of Capitol engineers and architects. Similar to the Academy and the University, the ceilings were as high as skyscrapers with long windows that welcomed the fall sun. The room was held by large Grecian-like columns, sanded to perfection. On the marble floor, which lacked dust or grime, was the symbol of the Capitol in red. An addition made by President Snow.

He stood before them on the podium that was built just for him. At the front of the room, he was the center of attention. All 300 Senators, leaders, and other political figures gawking at him like he was a peacock who just showed his beautiful array of colorful feathers.

On the Senate floor, newly elected Senator Lyra Ravenshroud observed the spectacle with a discerning gaze. Standing at a mid-size stature, she emanated a quiet strength that belied the challenges she was prepared to face. Her dark skin exuded a richness that stood in stark contrast to the opulent surroundings. Sister locs, meticulously arranged, framed her face and cascaded just below her shoulder blades—a testament to both tradition and individuality.

Lyra's eyes were trained on the President as he shifted his footing. There was a seat behind him, white as snow, that he had not sat down in since it arrived. A million questions floated in her mind as she watched him interact with members of the Senate. He came from newfound wealth through his father's military strength, therefore, it was not easy to recover after the rebellions. But, for him to graduate from the Academy at 18 and become the president of the nation, from zero to hero in just five years, was something she struggled to wrap her mind around. It even kept her awake at night.

As the President spoke of unity and progress, his charismatic words weaving through the air, Lyra listened with a gaze that saw beyond the surface. The crimson-suited president and the reform advocate senator—their worlds collided on this stage, setting the tone for a new dawn in Panem's political landscape.

President Coriolanus Snow concluded his inaugural address with a flourish, the applause from the Capitol elite echoing through the hallowed room. As the crowd erupted in admiration, he stepped down from the podium, his crimson suit a beacon of authority amid the sea of admirers in neutral clothing. A stark contrast indeed.

Meanwhile, on the Senate floor, Lyra Ravenshroud rose from her seat, her dark eyes following the President's every move. The air seemed to hum with an unspoken tension as their eyes locked across the expanse of power.

The Presidednt, drawn by an invisible force, made his way through the crowd. His steps were deliberate, every move a calculated display of charisma. He apologized to those who tried o get his attention, promising to circle back shortly. As he approached Lyra, the air crackled with anticipation—a collision of two worlds on the precipice of collaboration.

"Senator Ravenshroud," he spoke, his voice carrying the weight of authority. His icy blue eyes met her warm brown ones, and he found himself captivated by the dance within her gaze. "A pleasure to finally meet the advocate who promises to reshape the Capitol's destiny."

Lyra's sensual smile played upon her lips as she extended her hand. "President Snow, the pleasure is mine." Her voice, a sultry melody, resonated in the air. Coriolanus found himself liking the sound of it, the way her words carried a depth that transcended the usual political pleasantries. "Your words inspire change, and I am eager to be part of that transformation."

Their handshake, a symbolic gesture of political unity, resonated through the crowd. Unbeknownst to them, this moment marked the inception of a collaboration that would shape the course of Panem's future. As the applause continued, a subtle undercurrent of uncertainty lingered—a foreshadowing of the shadows yet to unfold.

Coriolanus, ever the tactician, couldn't help but be intrigued by the woman before him. The way her eyes, brown like rich earth, danced with the gaze of his icy blue ones hinted at a complexity that both fascinated and unnerved him. Her physical presence, a mid-sized woman exuding a quiet strength, contrasted sharply with the opulence of the Capitol.

The title of President seemed to roll off her tongue effortlessly, a dance of words that added an unexpected elegance to the occasion.

"I'm glad to hear that," Coriolanus spoke softly. "I hope you're looking forward to the new Senator orientation tomorrow. I'll explain your new role better tomorrow during our one-on-one. My assistant will pass over those times to you."

Lyra gathered her purse over her shoulder and nodded. "Of course. I look forward to seeing you tomorrow, Mr. President." She smiled gently.

Coriolanus tilted his chin up and nodded once, slowly. "Likewise, Ms. Ravenshroud." Little did they know, as the stage was set, the delicate dance of power had truly begun.

#saturnville #original content #black!reader #fic inspo #black reader #coriolanus snow x black reader #the hunger games #tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus snow #president coriolanus snow #young!coriolanus #young!coriolanus snow x lyra ravenshroud #coriolanus snow x lyra ravenshroud by saturnville #sejanus plinth #lucy gray baird #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow fic

[mtdthoughts]

Connections to Kristof's Book of Lies #5 (Migi & Dali Observation)

Click here to return to the top of this thread.

This connection is also another rather obvious one, namely, the twins' appearances.

Not only are Migi and Dali blonde, but they are also known to be cute/beautiful in the eyes of those around them (including themselves). They also frequently go around barefoot with the same black shirt and blue jeans.

In the chapter titled "Dirt" of The Notebook, the twins Lucas and Claus don't have much choice of clothing, as their clothes would always get dirty and torn, their hair would get long, and they would often go barefoot because their shoes had holes. This kind of reminds me of Migi and Dali at the orphanage.

Their dirtiness is in stark contrast to when they used to live with their mother, when Lucas and Claus would always be clean because they got baths, clean clothes, their nails cut, haircuts, and their teeth brushed. Thus, when the priest's housekeeper approached them, insisting that they be clean, it's likely that this reminded them of their own mother.

In an analogous way, Migi and Dali's "fashion" also could be connected to their own mother, as it is very similar to what they wore when they lived with their mother. It can also symbolize how they have not yet fully accepted the Sonoyamas and have not yet moved on from their mother's death.

Furthermore, like Migi and Dali, the twins Lucas and Claus are noted to be blonde, beautiful, and handsome, including by the housekeeper. Throughout The Proof, they have many relationships with women (probably thanks to their looks), though they all do not last. As shown with their first (and traumatic) experience of love with the housekeeper (see Connection #3), it's very likely that the twins become fully disillusioned with love, and their good looks just highlights the tragedy that the twins are unable to find fulfilling and meaningful relationships because of their cynicism from their dark and lonely childhood.

With this in mind, it's not a coincidence that Migi and Dali are portrayed to be beautiful. While I'm sure that their beauty certainly had a positive impact on growing the fanbase and has inspired a lot of fanart (which I do enjoy seeing tbh), I think Sano definitely designed the twins using Lucas and Claus as inspirations, and used their beauty for a similar purpose. Namely, despite the twins' good looks and pretty blonde hair, they (especially Dali) still struggled with seeking love and affection, also due to their tragic past. Furthermore, their beauty (along with Eiji's and Reiko's) also played into the theme of perfectionism, as these characters (mistakenly) believed they needed to be perfect in order to be loved. This was best seen in the twins' persona "Hitori", who was designed to be a cute and perfect son.

#migi and dali #migi to dali #observation

[crisiscutie]

LOOK AT THIS AMAZING FANART OF SEPHIROTH:

https://pin.it/61QJSJK

-🌹

He is so beautiful~! Seriously, the Crisis Cutie is one of a kind. How could someone be so irresistibly precious, evil, "innocent" (both ironically and unironically), cute, beautiful, pretty, stunning, handsome, gorgeous, and hunk, all in one package? That is a lot of beauty adjectives, I know.

Sephiroth is, in my opinion, has one of the greatest character designs. His appearance is distinct, but not too overpowering. His beauty is so familiar, yet foreign to our senses. It's a tantalizing fusion of the known and unknown...

I love how his silver locks are used as a stark contrast to his dark wing in the art. And notice how his eyes are closed as he basks in the light's rays and its warmth, while there is still darkness around his body…

This is a good show of Sephiroth's conviction: His strong righteousness. He believes he is justified in destroying Gaia and all of its lifeforms. He is unfettered by the arbitrary constructs of good and evil that humans so foolishly enforce. He is filled with optimism about achieving his goal, which he finds to be noble, by his definition. And I know it's just an effect from the light, but I like to think the tiny particles of light amongst the darkness, symbolizes Sephiroth's old self, showing that he was still there, somewhere deep within. These small light particles are genuine, not artificial, like the light radiating above him...

Thank you for sharing this beautiful and amazing piece~! I encourage everyone to click the link to see it for themselves. I can't copy it here because I don't have a pinterest account, haha. And is this a Sephology post? It sure is...

#sephiroth #ff7 sephiroth #final fantasy 7 #c.c rambles #ff7 #crisis cutie #ff7 headcanons #ffvii #final fantasy vii #art analysis #character analysis #Sephology 101 #final fantasy

[pumpkinpot]

Hoshi

A/N: this is part of the Citrus Dome Sci-Fi collab. this is also pure fluff. no smut, no real angst. just spooky summer vibes and poly love. I hope you enjoy. (I’m sorry for grammatical errors in advance.)

synopsis: since beginning your relationship with Katsuki Bakugou and Ochako Uraraka you’ve developed a love for exploring abandon places with them whenever you three have time to explore. This time, so happens to land on a derelict observatory. (additional head canons for this story on my tik tok under pumpkinpots)

“It says here it was abandoned in the mid-nineteenth century due to the spike in light pollution with the growth of the city,” you say, pointing to the dome at the peak of the building. “All of the mobile telescopes were transferred to the university's observatory, while this placed rotted away.

Uraraka half listens, levitating sheetrock from the doorway and discarding them in the nearby field.

“Why just abandon it?” Katsuki asks, fiddling with varying lenses in his camera bag. “Couldn’t this have been a museum or something?”

“Yeah,” you agree, shifting a glance to make sure Uraraka doesn’t need help. “It looks like it was bought by a merchant in the eighties who wanted to turn it into a house, but he was indicted for tax evasion before the renovations ever finished. It hasn’t been touched since.” 

He scoffs with an exaggerated roll of his eyes. “Rich idiots.”

Uraraka brushes specks of dust off her palms across her cut-off shorts before urging us alone. “Shall we?” 

It takes two and a half pushes to nudge the door wide enough to squeeze through. The observatory opens to us with a groan of whining metal and the scratch of loose dirt on concrete. 

Centered in the main foyer, a gaping mural of blue and white cobblestone depicts a dusty map of astrology stars. 

Katsuki has to be coaxed with a promise to be flashed to pose under the Taurus constellation for a picture, meanwhile, Uraraka floats just above Pisces with a cute puffy cheeked expression. 

Names, small sayings, and symbols decorate the wall in vibrant graffiti, the place a cocktail of color and wild Ivy.

"It's a lot more lit than I thought I'd be," Uraraka says, stuffing her flashlight into her bag. 

Katuski keeps the light attached to his camera lit as he weaves in and out of rooms, zooming in on old books and broken equipment. 

We follow him through a puzzle of what seemed to be living quarters and small classrooms, ending in a half oval auditorium. 

At the center of the stage a white globe balances on a pillar of cement. 

“What’s this?” Uraraka asks. 

You touch where someone had attempted to derail the sphere like a baseball before trailing your eyes above the layered seating. “It's a projector ball. Technicians would likely project light from there into the ball to make it seem like the planet or star they were studying. That's why it's,” you knock on the sphere's cool solid surface. “Crystal.”

Uraraka shines her phone’s light into it, the shattered pieces reflecting shapes in a dim glow.

Katsuki points the camera into the orb, the bluish tint reminds you of the similar one in the abandoned lighthouse you’d explored with them two years ago. Though that one would have lit from the inside. 

Quickly you explore the base and second levels, eager to get to the actual observatory. It's evident where the renovations to make this a home had been started and never finished. Small cracks in the floor, sealed with caulk, loose wooden planks pillaring knocked in walls. 

It could have been a beautiful home, you think to yourself. 

Up the second flight of stairs gradually more and more light fills the space until you are bathed in the orange glow of early dusk. A large open scare slits the dome, edging with rust and ivy. The circular room holds nothing of true value, nothing left behind but broken tables and a ladder to the viewing balcony tailing the opening of the dome. 

“The big telescope that would have been here-” Uraraka says, fiddling with the screw holes in the floor, “- would have been a refracting telescope. It uses small bits of glass to magnify what you’re looking at, then is bent back through the telescope hitting the eyepiece. The other kind is a reflector,” she continues, “It's got a primary mirror at the bottom of the lens into a second mirror than a third eyepiece mirror. This one is mostly used to see the different parts of a star to see what it's made out of.”

Katsuki and you exchange looks of pure astonishment. "how do you know all this?" you ask.

She fishes a gum wrapper from one of the holes, tossing it to the side. “Before I was accepted into UA I was really considering going into astronomy. I thought it fit so well with my quirk, but the courses were too expensive.” 

"More expensive than UA?" Katuski asks, refocusing his camera. 

She nods, seeming just as dumbfounded as us. 

“Do you think it could work on my explosions?”

“If you were in space maybe,” you hypothesize, “but in that case, we probably wouldn’t see it for a long while.” 

He seems semi disappointed as if his evening plans had been somehow derailed.

You run your hands across the walls of the dome, dusk sun baking its metal frame like a soup pot. 

For a moment you just watch them. It’d been so long since the opportunity arose for the three of you to go exploring. With you still temporarily stationed in the American hero commission and those two workings in Japan it was rare to find time to skype let alone go on adventures. You were lost in the bliss of having your partners so near without having to scream about a lost wifi connection when your hand hit something protruding from the wall.

“What are these?” you ask, inspecting circular gears attached to a crank.

“It looks like the wheel to turn the dome,” Uraraka says.

Katsuki zooms in on the puzzle of rigid plates. “This bitch turns?” 

“Yeah, that slit doesn't move so the dome has to, to accommodate where in the sky they were looking.” 

Katsuki fingers the gears a moment, mapping its track all across the sphere. He traces along the parts not layered in rust until he’s back at the start. “Do you think it still works?” 

“Not without some serious lube and strong arms.”

“We’re one for two,” you suggest. 

Katsuki hands over his camera to Uraraka, positioning himself opposite you to push the lever, while you pull left.

At first, the dial stays put, its stance unforgiving, but after a bit more pull than push a deafening whine reverberating through the entire observatory. 

No visible move happens until the second crank roundabout when the shift of light against concrete becomes clear.

Katsuki’s eyes light with sheer amazement as the entire dome rotates around you. We are halfway through a full rotation before Uraraka shouts for you to stop. 

You push on the lever stilling its movements as quickly as you can.

She holds a finger head tilted to the side. “Do you hear that?” 

Your breath balloons in your chest as you lean in closer. The tiniest of whimpers echo around the dome from the viewing balcony. 

One after another you file up the ladder, hopping on the edge of the dome. Balancing on the concrete crease between the moving track and the rest of the building you search for the sound. 

“Here!” Uraraka yells from the other side.

 You sprint as much as you dare, teetering along the two-story edge. 

She squats over the body of a squirming animal, a tuft of fur caught in the track of the dome's rotation. She coddles its little frame, before reaching a hand out to you. “Y/n, your knife-”

Hesitantly you hand it over. She snips away the stuck pieces muttering thanks that none of the actual tail got caught. She folds the blade back into itself, pinching leaves and sticks from the animal's fur and tossing them over the side. 

She holds it up, floppy ears and a black nose making it a nearly recognizable creature. A puppy. 

He looks to be light brown, but that could be the soot. 

Katsuki checks around the dome for any signs of a litter or mamma, before joining us with a shake of his head. 

The pup squirms and with an open mouth, letting all sorts of noises tumble from his dirt-covered tongue. 

Uraraka floats the puppy to the floor of the dome, as we file down the ladder. You empty the contents of your water bottle into a cup for drinking and the rest onto its back for cooling.  

His fur peaks through white and brown spotted under layers of grime. 

“Well,” Uraraka says, “we’ve been talking about wanting to expand our family.” 

“I suppose there’s no better place to start,” you add, both of us looking to Katsuki for consensus.

He passes glances between the three of us. “Fine, but I get to name it.”

“Alright, but we get veto power.” 

“Explosion-”

“Veto,” you say in unison. 

He looks around puffy-lipped. “I didn't even get to finish.” 

“Explosion nothing,” Uraraka clarifies. 

He’s silent for a long moment looking around the space. “Hoshi?.” 

“Star?” you confirm.

“This observatory was used to study the stars, wasn’t it?” He bats.

You and Uraraka exchange a satisfied, yet surprised look. You hadn’t expected something so- normal. This is after all the same man that made you name your golden pothos “boom boom boi” in his honor. 

“I like it,” you say.

“Approved,” adds Uraraka. 

We better take our picture before it gets too dark,” he says, turning away so you can’t see the blush on his cheeks. He switches out his filming camera for a smaller polaroid, propping it up on the edge of a broken table. 

He runs back as the timer ticks down. He slides to your right side, Uraraka on your left. Their arms link behind you as you hold Hoshi up to your mid-chest. Clicking down from five you all give your cheesiest grins. A rectangular card spits from the bottom of the camera. 

Ochaco shakes it a few times, swapping you a picture, for a puppy. 

You wait for the picture to pixelate before opening the ninety-cent notebook of film slips and position it in the next available spot.

Urarka’s cut-off shorts and Katsuki's tanned shoulders are a stark contrast to the puffy blue coat and chunky knit beanie from the last abandoned mansion expedition last time. Before that, the three of us accidentally matched our windbreakers to Midoryia during a tour of The Ghost Candy Shop in Kyoto. We look like a group of tourists. 

The small book seemed to be filling quickly despite the rareness of time to get away. Memories pile up from when it was just Uraraka and Katsuki to when you became a staple to their adventures. They’d given you responsibility for the book to garner your importance to them in their relationship until the reasoning for the gift became nothing more than routine. You were theirs, and they were yours. 

Now a new member had sprouted in your little family, and if you squinted, you could imagine the rest of the pages being filled with the pup in aged years to maybe more as time goes on.

 Right now, you were happy with the three and a half of you.

#bakugou x reader #uraraka x reader #bakugou x uraraka #ochako x reader #mha x reader #bakugou fluff #bakugou x y/n #Uraraka fluff #mha fluff

[riamu-mi4014]

Initial Research - Part 2

An Empty, Aired Out Room:

I just love that smell of when the windows have been open, and nature has permeated the room, especially in a room that is being renovated and is quite empty.

Blue Comfort - Fabric Conditioner:

This conditioner reminds me of my nans house, she has used to for the longest time so I connect the smell of it to her as a person. I think of her ornate wallpaper, her glass cabinet with old antiques and the rugs she has had over time that are always black, white and grey to match the interior.

Dry Clumps of Cut Grass:

Me and my siblings used to pick up large clumps of dry grass and throw them at each other, for hours and hours until our mother came out to the field to take us home. Fond memories.

The Wear Riverside:

Words cannot describe how good for the soul breathing in fresh riverside air is, and the view from beside the River Wear always leaves me in awe. There is a stone stair-case leading down from the side of bridge that takes you all the way down, and the path there allows you to be submerged in nature. 

A Particularly Red Sunset:

Crimson sunsets have always been my favourite to photograph, as they are just such a stark contrast to anything we usually see in the sky. Not to mention the gradients of warm tones that they create are just beautiful.

Ford Castle:

I went to this castle when I was 11, and I remember feeling so tiny in comparison to the buildings and castle walls. I fondly remember just sitting on the grass out of the front of the main house and trying to memorize the layout of how the castle was built, as well as loving the gardens with the assault courses and team-building exercises.

My Grandad’s Pocket Watch:

A few years after my grandad passed, my nan was going through some of his old stuff and decided to give me his beloved pocket watch. If I lost this it would hurt immensely, as I like to think of it as a piece of him that is with me, helping me through my life.

Soot Ball Sprites from Spirited Away:

These little sprites I associated with the first time I went to an anime convention with my sister, it was a small local event and I bought these from a young kid who was just selling some arts and crafts things he made. They always sit on my bookshelf in my room and I move them around from time to time, like they are living creatures.

Om Nom Plushie:

I’ve had this since I was quite little, but I don’t remember where I got it from. I think it is symbolic of my love for cute and soft cartoon characters, of which I love to draw very much. 

[cakejots]

Unstained, Chapter 3

After certain events that happened in the day, Chat Noir revealed to Ladybug that he knows who she is under the mask. Her reactions astounded him. After certain events that happened in the night, Ladybug unveiled to Chat Noir why she can’t do what he asked of her. His reactions astonished her.

Rating: T, Words: 6938. Chapters: 4/4

Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4

Read on AO3

Warmth enveloped her entire being as their lips connected. The calmness that followed was something Ladybug craved even more now that she had experienced it. Chat’s lips were soft, warm, and inviting, and Ladybug found herself wanting more of this sensation. Pressing her lips harder against his, she tasted a hint of saltiness on his lips, a stark contrast to the absolute sweetness she felt and savoured before.

Ladybug pulled back as soon as she realised what she was doing. Chat’s eyes were as wide-blown as hers.

“I-I’m sorry! I didn’t know what I was doing! Oh no, you’re going to think I’m weird now, aren’t you? What’s wrong with—”

“My lady.”

She stopped her frantic rambling at once and focused all her attention on him.

“It’s okay, don’t worry about it,” Chat smiled gently, his hand found hers and squeezed them tenderly.

Ladybug breathed a sigh of relief. She enjoyed the feeling of their lips pressed together. She wanted more, and so she asked.

“Okay, then can I do something that calms me down?”

“Just say you want to kiss me again,” he smirked.

Mock-offended, she turned away from him, hands crossed. With a mischievous smile, he leaned to where her face was and kissed the corner of her lips. She burst into flames at that gesture.

“Cute.”

“Stop teasing,” she said as she flicked his bell.

He twinkled as the sound of his bell tinkled. “I’ll give you all the kisses you asked for my lady, but I don’t want to confuse you even more. Besides, there are other ways to relieve the stress you’re feeling.”

“Okay, enough about me. Let’s talk about you.”

“What about me?”

“Chat, are you feeling okay?” Concern laced in her voice.

“Yeah, as supurr as always!” He fist-bumped the air.

“Then what’s going on? You almost got akumatised today.”

He stared at her, and she stared back.

“Are you not going to talk about it?” She asked.

“I don’t see you talking about yours!”

“Mine isn’t as dire as yours! You were feeling such negative emotions to the point you got akumatised!” Ladybug held his face to look at her, her thumbs caressed his cheeks in the process. “Adrien, is there something I can do for you right now?”

He closed his eyes and leaned against her left hand, craving more for her touch.

“Chaton… you said you want me to share my burdens with you. It’s not fair that I’m the only receiving party here,” she paused to steady her voice, she needed to be strong for him. “Please. Let me be there for you too.”

Upon hearing her wavering voice, he opened his eyes to look at her. Worried eyes stared back and he slowly pushed her down till her back was against the roof tile. He laid his head on her chest and started purring.

“Please stop making this about me, this really needs to be addressed,” Ladybug cradled his head in her arms and begged softly, thinking how much of a failure she was in comforting her partner.

“I’m sorry—“

“W-what?”

“—and no, I wasn’t feeling the best earlier today. It was about my mother, I suddenly got hit by the fact that I can’t remember much about her anymore.”

She started caressing his scalp. “Was it your father?”

He closed his eyes. “S-surprise?”

Ladybug stopped her ministrations and Chat could feel her heartbeat picked up. He started purring again to calm her down, knowing that she adores it when he purred, even if she doesn’t want to admit it.

“I’m really fine now, Buguinette. Could you continue whatever you’ve been doing? It feels really good,” he commented cheekily.

She continued her soothing actions from before, despite the disparity of emotions within her heart and mind. Gabriel Agreste really is a piece of shit. But why? How could he do this to his son, a literal cinnamon roll that the world can’t hold a candle to? What did he do to deserve such a kind soul to be called his? Where was the love, care, and protection that he is supposed to provide for Adrien as an actual parent should? Who does he think he is, abusing Adrien like that? What the—

“My lady?”

Ladybug snapped out of her thoughts and looked at him.

“Not that I mind you pulling my hair, but here’s not the best place to do it,” he grinned.

Ladybug sat up abruptly which resulted in her head hitting his nose in the process. He yelped at the impact and suddenly he was on his back with her on top of him pulling his cheeks.

“You love teasing me, huh?”

He grabbed her wrists to stop the pulling, “of course, your face turns into a pretty shade of pink and it really suits you. Besides, it’s fun seeing you all flustered like that, I kinda missed the old Marinette.” Something clicked in his mind, “it all makes sense now.”

“What does?”

“You were all jittery around me because you love me.”

Ladybug just realised that she had indeed confessed to him, and her face is now covered in brilliant red. “I-I wasn’t all jittery.”

“Yes, you were,” he said with a smug.

“Argh,” Ladybug plopped back down to Chat’s chest, effectively hiding her face from his view. “I can’t win this.”

He laughed and placed his hands on her back. “But I do hope that I get to tease you as someone more significant than a friend.”

“I hope so too,” she muttered, but Chat could hear it anyway.

They settled into a comfortable silence before her voice vibrated in his chest.

“Adrien?”

“Hmm?”

“I know you’ve been dealing with your troubles all on your own, and it’ll probably stay like that for a while. But can I ask you to let me—us know whenever you’re not feeling your best? You don’t even have to tell us what it is. Just let us know that you’re feeling down. You can tell Nino about it without letting me know too if you’re more comfortable that way. Just, anything to keep the negative emotions at bay,” her arm had reached up to grasp his shoulder, seemingly pleading with him.

“How will telling you guys disperse my negative emotions?”

She reached up even further and scratched behind his cat ears, her face now a few centimetres from his.

He purred, “Oh yes, it does make me feel better, doesn’t it? You should try it too!”

“What—”

Chat had already pulled her hair ties and had begun to massage her scalp.

Ladybug shivered and smiled before releasing a soft gasp. She slapped her hands on her mouth, looking at him with wide eyes.

“Feels good, doesn't it?” He looked at her with a glint in his eyes.

She sat up and whimpered as his last touches slipped from her scalp down her neck. Ladybug glared at Chat while he sat up and smiled innocently.

“Give me back my hair ties.”

“No way, let these hair ties be a symbol of a promise between us that we will let go of our burdens and share them. Besides, you look beautiful like this too,” he said easily.

Ladybug had lost count of the number of times her cheeks flushed, but she tried her best to give him a flat look.

“What?”

“You didn’t let go of anything.”

Chat proceeded to tie his fringe with one of her hair ties and released it once he heard Ladybug giggled at how silly he looked. “There, now we both let go of something.”

“Fair enough,” she smiled, placed her right hand on her heart and raised her left hand. “Ladybug’s word.”

“Cat’s word,” he mimicked her actions and recalled the time where he was tempted to open the door to find out who the love of his life was. What a turn of events.

“Okay, now that we are on the same page, how do we go from here?” She put on a serious face. “Alya and Nino, or anyone else for that matter, are going to get suspicious if we are suddenly as close as our superhero selves.”

“Easy, we’d just stick together until they ask about it, and we just tell the truth,” he rolled his eyes.

Ladybug raised an eyebrow and waited for Chat to explain.

“We’d tell the truth up till the point where that blasted butterfly appeared. It’d be all rainbows and sunshine from there.” He started listing with his fingers. “You found me crying in a park, comforted me, I was so thankful that someone reached out, and I chose to stick to you from then on. Who knows, Alya and Nino might even leave us alone to ‘develop our relationship'. A win-win situation, my lady.”

“So, we are basically going to stick together from the start? Wouldn’t that raise suspicions?” She frowned.

“Yep, and nope.” He grinned from ear to ear.

“Minou, don’t you think they are going to ask about the appearance of Akumas. You, who hardly ever cry and keep your emotions locked within your heart, broke down in a park.” Ladybug's heart wrenched at the memory. “That alone should scream that you’re at your breaking point. There’s no way an Akuma wouldn’t appear. You know that; they know that.”

“Then, we don’t tell them that I cried. You found me when I was feeling depressed, and I just decided to share more about it.” He pressed.

At this point, Ladybug scooted over to Chat and hugged him. “Adrien, I know you’re tired of secrets and want us to be together as much as possible. Trust me, I long for that too. But I can’t help but think it will still raise suspicions.” She pulled back and cupped his cheeks, stroking them. “Why don't we start slow? We keep our distance but slowly get closer as we learn more about each other. Like maybe the stress of being in the last year of lycée has led us to fall on each other for support or something. Give it two weeks to a month, then we can physically start getting closer.”

“But—”

“I’m not done yet Chaton. In the meantime, behind closed doors, we can hang out as our superhero selves, text to check up on one another, anything.”

He pulled her into his embrace once again and nuzzled her hair whispering into her ear. “Anything?”

Ladybug shivered at the tingling sensation and had enough of whatever he was doing. She placed her arms around his neck and her face reached for his ear. “You know what I mean,” and bit his ear.

He squawked and pulled back with a visibly red face. “My lady! How scandalous!”

A smirk finally graced her face.

#mesfics #miraculous ladybug #fanfic #mlb fanfic #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #ladybug #chat noir #post chat blanc #hurt/comfort #unstained

[mary-nesbitt-larking]

Why I moved from Choices to Lovestruck (and you should too)

It’s no secret to anyone who knows me well that I was a BIG Choices stan. I ran three Choices blogs (begging-for-kamilah, ask-kamilah sayeed and ask-priya-lacroix) for a long time, fulfilling fanfiction requests and interacting with many wonderful people. During my time in the fandom, I made some beautiful friends and created brilliant memories that I wouldn’t trade for the world. Unfortunately, as time passed, I started to notice a decline in the quality of content that Pixelberry were providing, and after a lot of hesitation, I decided to remove the app and leave the fandom. I was very lucky in that a very good friend introduced me to a different app with a similar style. Lovestruck was something that I’d heard about on the grapevine but had no idea what it was or if it could possibly compare to the fun that Choices had given me over the years. After a lot of resisting and stubborn behaviour on my part, I finally gave it a chance and have never looked back since. Here are just some of the many reasons why you should too:

There are no forced love interests in Lovestruck. That’s right. You read that correctly. You choose your love interest BEFORE you start the story so there will never be any frustrating interactions with characters that you’re not interested in. Remember in Bloodbound Book 2 when you go to Paris with Adrian and Jax (leaving the only two female love interests at home) and you were forced to hold hands with one of them (until Pixelberry later apologised and altered the scene)? There is definitely none of that to worry about in Lovestruck. The person you’re interested in is the only character who will show interest in you, and the entire story will be centred around him/her/them. 

Speaking of which, it’s time to talk about the fantastic level of LGBTQ representation in Lovestruck. Non binary characters aren’t just side characters. They actually have their own routes, as well as a huge array of adorable side characters. There are also demisexual characters, asexuals and of course, plenty of lesbians and bisexuals. Voltage (creators of Lovestruck) also very proudly celebrate pride month by releasing incredible LGBTQ content.

On the topic of representation, something that has to be applauded is the racial and religious representation in Lovestruck. You can romance Jewish characters, black characters, south American characters, Asian characters and I’m sure the list goes on. Choices fans might be sad to find that you don’t have the option to customise any love interests or MCs, but I think that this is a blessing. 

Something that I find very cool about Lovestruck is that there are different stories for every love interest. For example, if you romance one person from a certain book, romancing another from the same book will get you a completely different story with a totally different route. It’s a stark contrast to Choices, in which Pixelberry- quite literally- copy and paste the same lines for all the available love interests. 

And along the same lines of copying and pasting, it’s very refreshing to see that Lovestruck doesn’t reuse faces. I always found it terribly off putting when you’d be playing a Choices book and a love interest from another book would be your waiter or waitress. 

One brilliant thing about Lovestruck is the way that they present the MC. Every MC has their own unique personality and backstory. Whilst that does mean “less choice”, it’s really refreshing having an MC with parents. With siblings. With a job. A life. An actual story outside their love interest. There’s one MC who discusses her experiences as a woman of colour, and I think that’s exceptionally important for the player. 

On a superficial note, Lovestruck has GORGEOUS art. I did love the art in Choices too, but I don’t think it has anything on Lovestruck. The backgrounds are stunning, but it’s the characters who are gorgeous. Not to mention, we get absolutely beautiful CGs. This is something Choices sorely lacks. In the later books, the LIs and MCs even blink and move which I find gives it a more engaging feel. There are also MANY more facial expressions for every character in Lovestruck. Blushing faces, a neutral face, smiles, angry faces, sad faces, shocked faces, anxious faces... It’s not just the same standard five like in Choices. 

Another superficial- but very cool aspect- of Lovestruck is that almost every outfit is 100% free. The MCs and LIs will change their clothes whenever appropriate and you don’t have to pay a penny. The only time when outfits will ever cost any in-game currency is if it will mean you gain a CG out of it, but in my personal experience, I’ve only ever seen this being the case for two books. 

This is just a side note but something I love in Lovestruck is that adorable animals aren’t paywalled. They’re just there. Your love interest might have a cat- or a bear in one book- and you don’t have to pay to love up on them. They’re just another part of the story.

Still on the more superficial side of things is the music. I will totally admit, I LOVE the music in Choices and have a fair bit of it downloaded to my iTunes. But for anyone hesitant to move over to Lovestruck for the sake of the music, don’t panic! The music is just as brilliant, just as catchy and just as heartfelt. 

One of the things that always stressed me about Choices was the in-game currency. Diamonds were expensive and unfortunately, every single chapter would involve multiple diamond scenes. In many books, the diamond scenes were so important to the story that to go without them would mean that huge chunks of plot were missed. The amazing thing about Lovestruck is that if you choose not to do the premium scenes (the currency is hearts) then it does absolutely nothing to the story whatsoever. The heart scenes are purely there to give you a little bonus but whether you choose to do them or not, nothing about the story or your relationship with your love interest will change. 

And whilst we’re on the topic of heart scenes, it’s important to note that whilst Choices usually has 3-4 diamond scenes PER chapter, heart scenes only pop up around 9 out of every 12 chapters, and you will VERY rarely find anything that costs more than 30 hearts. 

The system to earn these hearts is totally different to Choices. Whilst you could watch ads to earn diamonds a few times per day, plus playing chapters would gain you two diamonds, Lovestruck gives you “quests”. Every few hours, the quests refresh and all you have to do is read a certain amount of chapters of a specified love interest, and you get the hearts. It’s a win/win situation because the more you play, the more you get.

Not to mention, every day you get to earn a puzzle piece and when you complete a puzzle, you win a certain amount of hearts. It seems tedious at first but they add up fast! 

And it’s not just hearts you earn, either! In Choices, you would use “keys” to read a chapter. In Lovestruck, you use “tickets”. Some quests mean that if you read a certain amount of chapters, you get given 2, 3 or even 5 tickets so you can just keep on reading! 

Since I’ve addressed some of the Lovestruck mechanics, I just want to talk about how much I love that you can fast forward, rewind, autoplay (it plays hands free and there are three different speeds to choose from) and even choose the chapter you’d like to play. This is amazingly refreshing because when it comes to Choices, you have to start the entire book again if you want to get to a specific chapter, AND you have to click through it fast because you can’t fast forward. 

Oh, and when you’ve played a chapter, a little heart symbol will appear next to it if it has a premium scene so you know whether or not you need to save your hearts! 

I really want to address the smut scenes. I know that sounds like another more superficial topic but I think it’s pretty important. I think there’s something more “mature” about Lovestruck and smut. The sex scenes are tasteful yet somehow sexier. They’re not rushed at all. And Voltage aren’t afraid to include actual kinky moments. 

More importantly, though, is that Lovestruck addresses virginity and handles it incredibly tastefully. It’s done in a realistic fashion, too. Sometimes, characters don’t really feel like having sex with their partner. Sometimes they want to at first but then feel anxiety. Sometimes they’re scared. Sometimes they want to stop half way through. Sometimes they have trouble reaching orgasm. All very real scenarios that are addressed tactfully and beautifully. The virgins (be they the MC or LI) in Lovestruck are realistic. They don’t just dive into bed. It’s a process. There’s fear along with excitement. There are moments of panic. It’s not just smut for the sake of smut. It deals with adult situations, something that I always thought Choices struggled with. 

Actually, it’s not just sex. These character get anxiety, depression and genuine mental health problems. And it’s dealt with so perfectly, yet so realistically. They’re anxious when it’s appropriate. 

I don’t want to bash Choices too badly, as I don’t think Pixelberry are an evil company, but some of the things they did- particularly towards the end- were unforgivable. 

Hana Lee’s infertility and the way that it was merely glossed over was appalling. As someone who is also infertile, I can tell you that you don’t just “get over it”, even if your partner is carrying your child. 

I’ll also never quite get over the fact that when you’re almost raped in Red Carpet Diaries 2, you have to pay 30 diamonds if you want someone to stay and comfort you. As a sexual abuse victim, I think that’s grotesque, and a glorification of rape. 

I can safely say, there is NOTHING like that in Lovestruck, and just to reiterate, all the important plot points are FREE. 

To bring this mood back up a little bit, something I think is really cute is that when you’re choosing the love interest you’d like to romance in Lovestruck, you can see sweet little facts about them, including their birthdays, their height and their personality traits. 

Sometimes the stories cross over, too, and love interests will appear in each other’s stories. And the cute thing is, if you’re romancing an LGBTQ character, it will be canonical that whichever love interest crosses over will be in an LGBTQ relationship with MC. 

There are also fun little side stories that you can play, and to really make things interesting, you can often play the same book but from the point of view of your love interest! These do usually cost hearts but not many at all. 15 hearts can get you things like 4 chapters, for example! 

I just want to talk about how wonderful Voltage are as a company, too. You can tell this isn’t about money for them. They just want the best for their players and it shows. They are often asking the community what they want and bringing out polls, and they will always let us have our say.

There are also no false promises of stories being “in the works”. If a story is abandoned, they won’t lie about it. There are no “politician’s answers” from them. Just pure transparency. 

The last thing I want to talk about is the writing style. Lovestruck’s style is worlds apart from Choices. To describe it for you, Choices feels like playing a fun app with cool stories. Lovestruck feels like reading a book, immersing yourself in a novel. And the style is unbeatable. 

TLDR; it’s time to cut the apron strings and move on from Choices. Lovestruck awaits! Tagging @lovestruckvoltage because I love you and appreciate you.

#choices stories you play #playchoices #lovestruck #voltage inc #lovestruckvoltage

[jeonqukie]

SOMEBODY ELSE / 01.

⊰ — SYNOPSIS / After years of working up the courage to confess his feelings for you, Min Yoongi decides to give up and move on from the unrequited position he has put himself in. However, when you discover his veiled attraction towards you, you dwell on what could have been. You find yourself ready to reciprocate the same sentiment for him, only you’re too late when he reveals he has already found someone else. Consequently, you’re lured into a series of meaningless and warped encounters from the one person you swore to avoid.

⊰ — FEATURING / Primarily featuring Min Yoongi and Kim Taehyung; brief appearances by Kim Seokjin, Jung Hoseok, and Park Jimin.

⊰ — GENRES / Angst, romance, mature, friends with benefits, and unrequited love.

⊰ — WARNINGS / This chapter contains alcohol consumption, graphic language, lots of self-deprecating remarks, very mature and sexual content including unprotected (drunk) sex (practice safe sex!), oral sex (female & male receiving), and cre*mpie.

⊰ — WORD COUNT / 14.7k

⊰ — TABLE OF CONTENTS / To be redirected and get the latest on the story, click on the table of contents.

⊰ — NOTES / Hi, all! This is my very first work being posted on Tumblr, so I hope you guys enjoyed it. This fic is heavily inspired by Ross and Rachel’s relationship in Friends, but less comedy and more angst? Feedback and comments would be absolutely lovely! And thank you for reading all the way through, tbh. I would like to apologize in advance for a very poorly written smut scene (primarily bc this is my very first time writing it. I’ll learn, I promise). <3

© All rights reserved to jeonqukie. All or portions of my work may not be reproduced, distributed, modified, or used in any way whatsoever without my permission.

An endless cacophony of your vexing ringtone and the buzzing vibrations against the softness of your mattress interrupted your well-deserved slumber. A small, freshly pedicured foot searches underneath the blanket, but your efforts were fruitless when you can’t seem to find the small device. This ensued you to sit up with your arms scrambling to search for the device screaming bloody murder at the devil’s hour.

“Did anybody ever tell you it was rude to be calling someone at this ungodly hour?” When you swiped the green symbol right across from your phone, you wasted no time to seethe through the receiver. You could have easily declined the call, but there was a small chance that the person may call back, disrupting your slumber again.

A chuckle could be heard from your phone and the familiarity of the voice on the other end alleviated some of the frustration boiling in your blood. “You could’ve waited a few more seconds. But your impatient-ass decided to answer me.”

You fell back on the plethora of pillows, seeking for warmth and comfort. “What do you want, Yoongi? This is the first time in twenty years that I’m finally getting the proper sleep I deserve.” High pitched whines thrummed his eardrums resulting in another sadistic scoff from Yoongi.

“You mean twenty-one years.”

The correction proceeded you to flutter your eyes open. You lifted the small device away from your profile, eyes shooting towards the corner of the screen that indicated it was six in the morning; you were finally twenty-one.

“Happy birthday, _____.” Suddenly, you weren’t so annoyed at your best friend. You were beginning to think that his rude awakening is more of a loving-not-so-thoughtful gesture from Yoongi. “Believe it or not, I actually called your mom to ask what time she gave birth to you. She said 6:30, but - uh, honestly, I can’t wait ‘til 6:30.”

“This couldn’t wait until dinner tonight or something?”

A suppressed snicker came slipping out of your dry mouth when you imagined how your mom reacted at Yoongi’s inquiry. You shake your head in disbelief. His intent definitely brightened your early morning and put a good jumpstart to your birthday. There was rustling in the background and a bit of hesitance at his end of the line.

“Give me a second.”

There was an abrupt announcement in the background that resulted the knitting of your sculpted brows together.

“Hey, where are you? It doesn’t sound like you’re home.”

But Yoongi didn’t respond immediately. Instead, you hear another voice in the background.

“Here’s your boarding pass, sir. Have a safe flight.”

“Yoongi?”

“Y - yeah, I’m here, sorry ‘bout that.” He apologized hastily when he attaches his phone back to his ear.

He was silent after his quick apologies. You were astonished at how your brain had manage to piece everything together.

It made sense why you had an early birthday celebration last night. According to your roommate, it was meant to be ironic with the amount of alcohol everyone brought because you were technically not twenty-one; you were merely twenty-four hours away from being legal enough to drink. However, he insisted on not drinking. According to him, he didn’t want you to feel left out. But that wasn’t the absolute truth; he didn’t want to to drink because he knew he had an early morning. Now, he calls you first thing in the morning to greet you happy birthday because he won’t have time to do it later on - because he won’t be present for your actual birthday.

“I thought you weren’t heading to Korea in like, two weeks.” Your words came out strangled all thanks to the exhaustion from last night’s events.

“I thought so, too, but they’re running on a tight schedule.” The disappointment was evident in his voice and you began chewing on the inside of your cheek out of habit. You know fully well that he regrets having to miss out on the one day you expect him to be present. “I promise I’ll make it up to you when I come back, alright?” You emitted a silent hum, signalling that his absence will be missed but you understood the circumstances. “I gotta go. I’ll be boarding soon. I’ll text you when I land.”

And he was gone. The silence in your room was suddenly taking a toll on you and you found yourself knocking back into deep slumber.

“Happy birthday to you,” All of your friends have gathered in your apartment, singing at the top of their lungs while Jimin began lighting up candles on your birthday cake. “Happy birthday, happy birthday! Happy birthday to you!”

The scene was overtly mawkish; the way the offensively neon pink, plush party hat that has the words ‘happy birthday’ clung to your head, the two-tiered red velvet birthday cake sat right in front of you with rainbow-colored candles pierced right through the top tiered layer. Everyone took pictures and recorded videos of the celebration with your blase profile on full display.

“I hate all of you. I told you I didn’t want a birthday party since we already celebrated last night.” Everyone thought they were stealth planning your “surprise” celebration, but it was so obvious and you’ve repeated it to them numerous times that you were fully aware of their plans.

“Just blow the fucking candles!” Seokjin hollered whilst he held his phone horizontally, filming you in the process.

“Don’t forget to make a wish.” Michelle, your roommate, announced to the entire room to stay silent as you began to contemplate what you really wanted for your birthday.

Your mind went blank.

What more could you possibly ask for? You received your degree in business and psychology, the internship you remained loyal to for months has offered you a promising position at the organization permanently, and you had the best relationship with your friends and family. This was your definition of the perfect life, at least in your eyes - this was the good life.

Yet there was something missing.

You were reminded of the simplistic message he sent you an hour before the festivities.

Just landed. Wish I was there to see the look on your face when they make you wear that birthday hat. Have fun, loser.

You thought it was nearly impossible for your wishes to come true but you still blew the candles and covered your ears as everyone around you erupted in a celebratory roar.

“Alright, I want some cake!” Hoseok ended his recording and shoved his phone right back into his pockets. Michelle’s hand smacked Hoseok’s as he reached for the cream cheese frosting and you cackled way too loud at his reaction. “What was that about?”

“She hasn’t even opened her presents yet, Hobi.” You were already rolling your eyes, insisting that there was no need for presents and everyone should help themselves to the cake right in front of you. 

With that announcement, Michelle began gathering all of the gifts for you while Hoseok was already cutting the cake.

Hoseok gave you a too many pair of socks with cute farm animals on them. Meanwhile, Michelle bought you the most comfortable periwinkle throw blanket for your room. Seokjin opted for the safe route when he bought you a three-wicked vanilla candle from Bath and Body Works. Jimin, on the other hand, bought you something that you actually needed; a protective case for your phone.

As if on cue, the shrill ringtone erupts from the depths of Jimin’s pockets. When he fishes out the device and taps on the ‘answer’ button, he holds out his phone to give the person a good angle of his face.

“Well, don’t you look pretty?” His greeting resulted in you propping a brow up in curiosity as you hear the series of curse words originating from the phone.

“Shut up and give the phone to _____. She’s not answering my calls.” Lifting a middle finger up on his face, Jimin tosses his phone over to you and you catch it at the right time, holding Jimin’s phone on your palm.

“Hey, sleeping beauty.” You jeered when you see the deep bags formed underneath his feline-like eyes. It looked like he had just settled inside his hotel room. It was unusually bright inside the room, then again - it was the day time over there and it was a stark contrast to the dark night sky where you resided.

“Ha-ha, keep that shit up or you’re not getting your present, brat.” Yoongi threatens and you decide to close your mouth shut, pursing them into one singular line. “Alright, Jimin, you can give it to her.”

You placed the sleek phone right next to your slice of cake. Eyes darting towards Jimin who offered you a little rose gold baggie. When you captured the small gift bag on your palm, your eyes took a quick peek inside, surprised to see a plain white, velvet box only to feel your brows knitting into one.

“I said no gifts.”

“Just open it. I don’t got a lot of time.” The urgency can be heard in his voice before you could even fish out the box out of the bag, there was a boisterous knock on his end of the call. “Fuck, alright - I gotta go. Just open it, alright?” Without another word, Yoongi definitively ends the call.

You were too reluctant to lift open the velvet box, but there was the other half of you that instinctively lifts it up only to reveal the shimmering chain bracelet that was nestled inside.

“I thought we had a limit on gifts!” Hoseok whispered harshly into Jimin's ear while they all watched you open the velvet box.

Your soft, pink petals parted slowly when your eyes glistened at the way the charms dangled on the chain. The main charm was a large silver heart. The most notable one was a dog charm that represented your family dog that passed away two month ago. There was an Eiffel Tower charm that clung close to the heart, reminiscing back to when you studied abroad for three months in Paris.

“I’ve always wanted one of these.” You lifted the charm bracelet up to see how it glimmered under the lights. “I told him I was saving up just to get a bracelet and a charm.”

“It must have cost a fortune.” Michelle's eyes widen, offering to put the bracelet on your wrist.

“I told Yoongi months ago about this. I think I only mentioned it to him once. How could he possibly remember I wanted one of these?” When the bracelet was latched onto you, a large smile appears across your visage and, unknowingly, Seokjin was recording your reaction from the side, knowing fully well that Yoongi would love to see you receiving your gift with his own eyes.

“Well, remember back when he was in love with, uh - what’s her face? He bought her those ridiculously expensive earrings that cost like, $200. They didn’t even look cute on her."

For some odd reason, you and Michelle were the only ones who erupted in a fit of laughter over Hoseok’s statements. 

But the room is silent once you and Michelle dwell further on his words. 

All chattering and the sounds of forks clattering on plates came to an abrupt halt when your eyes narrow at Hoseok who resumed shoveling the cake into his mouth, analyzing his supposed harmless statement.

“Wait, what did you just say, Hobi?” When Hoseok reflected back to his previous statement, he stopped chewing on the cake and your eyes shot towards Seokjin who’s eyes were just as wide as Hoseok’s.

“I - I said the earrings didn’t even look cute on her.” He was trying his best to recover from his mistake, but he was failing miserably. Michelle’s brows furrowed even more, eyes darting to every other individual in the room.

“No, Hobi, the in love part.” Michelle’s tone coated with curiosity. It was silent and Hoseok no longer functioned, afraid he would divulge more information that shouldn’t be said. 

“Are you guys saying that Yoongi has a thing for _____?” Jimin’s plump petals pressed against each other in return, knowing very well he cannot lie to Michelle. Your eyes searched for the answers on all of the boys’ faces. Hoseok and Seokjin were avoiding your eyes at all costs, fearing that one look would give the answer away.

Your heart was beating at an alarming rate and it was hammering against your chest too hard. “He’s been in love with you the moment you two met.” You felt like you were drowning with the sudden revelation. It was hard to swallow everything in and your eyes scanned the room; Hoseok mentally scolding himself and Michelle was in the same contingency as you were. 

Meanwhile, your fingers played with each charm that had been linked around your wrist and you could already feel the butterflies clouding your stomach.

“I - I have to talk to him.” You were already out of your seat when you began searching for your phone. You looked like an absolute idiot searching for a device that had been seemingly placed right in front of you, but your mind was in an absolute disarray.

“How exactly are you going to talk to him about this? You can’t call him; he’s probably too jet lagged. You can’t just call him and ask the poor guy all these questions!” Clearly in a state of panic, Hoseok rushed his words out. Nevertheless, you still found yourself pacing back and forth in your quaint apartment.

The beating of your heart starts to slow and your feet finds themselves magically glued to the carpeted floors. The realization finally hit you that you were absolutely fucking oblivious to everything around you. Why didn’t anyone tell you about this if everyone around the room seemed to know about it?

“C’mon, _____. He’s probably going to be too busy to answer his phone calls - you know him.” Jimin, clearly opposite of Hoseok, was trying to alleviate the frantic situation. He seemed to be the one thinking much more rationally out of the boys. This was clearly not the way Yoongi wouldn’t want you to find out about his true feelings for you. He would be utterly pissed at Hoseok for spilling the beans and Jimin was trying his best to convince you to be patient with the situation. 

“What are you going to tell him, huh? Do you even feel the same way for him?” Seokjin, on the other hand, cared less about sugar coating the primary conflict of the situation. His sharp tongue hit you like a ton of bricks with a few set of words.

The warmth of your throat seized up the same way it did earlier. From the way your face contorted in confusion and naivety, Seokjin guided you back to the chair where they placed a slice of cake for you to eat.

“Don’t call him just yet, alright? Just… give it a day when you have a clear mind. You know how Yoongi is.” They were all probably right. You didn’t want to discuss such a serious matter over the phone. You needed to confront him about this in person.

You weren’t entirely sure of how you actually felt for Yoongi.

You love him. But do you love him the same way he loves you?

Suddenly, you’re appraising each memory of Yoongi at a different perspective.

When Hoseok, Seokjin, and Jimin decided to turn in for the night, Michelle offered to clean up the apartment since it was your birthday. As you lay on your bed, scrolling through all the pictures you had saved on your device, you studied the way Yoongi looked at you.

Every single picture that had you grinning ever so goofily onto the lens, Yoongi would stare at you with those eyes. He looked at you like you were some mythical being - as if he can’t believe you actually existed. His candid smile somehow had an effect on your cheeks. They heated up a bright red and you find yourself missing him badly the more you seemed to move onto the next image.

In one picture, you remembered it was Yoongi’s cousin’s wedding. You wore a pink, silk slip dress with a beautiful white rose corsage attached around your wrist. The bouquet of white and light pink roses bundled up in one hand while the other clung so tightly on Yoongi. Your hair had been done messily into a low bun with tiny wisps of hair framing the shape of your hair while Yoongi wore a tight black suit with the salmon tie. The photographer candidly captured your grinning faces when you both walked down the aisle of his brother’s wedding. You can see how your beige manicured nails dug so deeply onto his arm, remembering just how nervous you were walking with heels.

You even remembered when he leaned down to whisper into your ears if you fell, he would fall along with you.

In another picture, your sleeping body is slumped over his frame in the back seat of Seokjin’s van. It was winter break and you were all headed up to stay for a weekend in Michelle’s grandparents’ cabin. His flannel jacket draped over your torso with your face nuzzled onto his neck. Your head in a perfect position for his head to slumber on. What you didn’t notice is the way both of his long arms are slithered around your torso, attempting to keep you warm from the freezing temperature.

The last photo was centered on Yoongi who had his eyes pinched shut, laughing way too hard at the fact that he had shoved a slice of cake towards your face when you attempted to shove frosting over his own. The shock was evident in your face when a smear of white frosting trails from your cheek all the way up to the temple of your head.

Deciding to put your memory dive onto a halt, your hand grips your phone tightly and you hold up your wrist where you still wore the charm bracelet proudly. As you positioned your camera to capture the way each charm embellished your arm, you snapped the picture immediately and sent it over to Yoongi.

Got your gift. I love it. I can’t wait ‘til you come home.

Your response seemed to be ambiguous. At least to you, it seemed to be ambiguous. You were a fool if you continued to deny your feelings for him. You chose not to think of this any more, so you mindlessly sent the message to Yoongi before you lock your phone, forcing yourself into deep sleep, trying to leave behind the idea that Yoongi is in love with you.

“Hey, loser. I just - uh, woke up and I’m having the shittiest headache right now.” His husky laughter tickled your ears and an eruption of goosebumps appeared across your arms as you listened intently to Yoongi’s voice message. “Can you believe my boss actually took me out for drinks the first night we’re in Korea? I’m jet lagged and hungover. Anyway, I’m glad you liked your gift. I - fuck, I can’t think right now, but I don’t think I’ll be able to respond because there’s just so much shit to do.” You hear take a sharp inhale through his teeth; an old habit of his. “I should be home after the week is over then we’ll actually drink as legal adults.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Michelle look at you with a raised brow. “What are you giggling about?” She interrogates as she offers you a bowl of Cheerios with a decent serving of cold milk. You weren’t even aware your mouth sung a series of chortles.

“Uh, it’s nothing.” You locked your phone once more when you begin shoveling scoops of cereal into your mouth.

She nudges right next to you when you see your phone lights up, indicating you’ve received a notification. Both your eyes dart towards your wallpaper; a group photo from your unexpected celebratory bash - the night before Yoongi left. His arms around your shoulders while you had yours clinging onto his waist, the other arm slithered around Michelle herself. Both you and Michelle had your eyes directed towards the camera, but you notice Yoongi’s eyes staring directly at you with his mouth revealing his gummy grin.

“I - I mean, it’s crazy, right? The idea of Yoongi and me… being together.” You weren’t so sure if you were speaking to Michelle or yourself. You began to poke at the cereal, playing with each piece and shoveling them into your mouth in the process.

“What’s so crazy about it? Don’t you guys get mistaken as a couple sometimes? You guys have been friends for like, 3 years; you’ve seen each other at your worst. You get along with his friends, he gets along with yours. You’ve argued before, but found ways to forgive and forget and move on. I mean, you guys are an unofficial couple! Both of you never had the balls to admit your feelings.” Michelle began to explain her observations while you resume your breakfast.

“But what if it’s not what we both expect? What if… we’re just better off as friends? Then, things will be just fucking awkward if it doesn’t work out. People will end up picking sides and it’s -” Michelle was already rolling her eyes at your statement and you were slightly offended she had dismissed your perspective so quickly. “What?”

“Stop trying to delay the inevitable. Listen, _____, if you can look me in the eyes right now and tell me you don’t feel the same way about Yoongi the way he feels about you - even if it’s the smallest possibility, you don’t have to tell him shit and we can all forget about this.” The firmness and frankness that dripped from her voice had you completely frozen. Your eyes dart towards her owns and you instinctively feel your jaw jut forward.

She can see the hesitation in the way your lip remained tightly knitted together. A satisfied sneer appears on her visage when you release the spoon onto the bowl, losing appetite after the conversation.

You’ve accepted the fact that you feel the exact same way about Yoongi.

You cared about him a lot. You cared about his thoughts and his opinions and you always sought for his advice. You connected with him on an emotional level. You were carefree and could reveal your true self around him.

He made you happy.

Perhaps you've always loved him the way he did to you - you were just too blind to see it.

You didn’t really like being at the airport; everything was absolutely overpriced and the service was not even good. Parking was always a pain in the ass and security is strict (for good reasons, but they were still unnecessarily uptight). Surprisingly enough, there were too many children, whining and crying because of the monotonies of the world.

Yet you find yourself ignoring all your hatred for the airport when you hold onto your cup of coffee and another cup for Yoongi.

The flight information board indicated that Yoongi landed fifteen minutes ago and he should be arriving any minute now. You awaited at baggage claim unsure of whether he even had a check in baggage in the first place. But at the corner of your eye, you see him with a beanie on, the face mask covering his nose and mouth as he clutches onto his carry on bag, searching the crowd behind him.

As you pushed through the crowd, you kept your eyes locked on his tired face. Your heart was beating a million times faster than ever and you could feel your chest combust when his eyes lock onto yours. “Yoongi,” You greet him breathlessly. All logical thoughts and processes begin to decimate when he pulls the mask out of his face to reveal his gummy grin.

“_____! What are you doing here?” The excitement painted right across his face. He clearly wasn’t expecting your presence and it made your heart swell by a tenfold.

You pull him into a tight embrace and he returns the gesture tighter than what you expected. You savored his warmth against yours. But the softness of his physique is soon so far away from you. Your brows furrow in confusion when you feel his body separate from you by something - by someone else.

An unfamiliar voice echoes close by. The voice calls out for Yoongi’s name and you pull away from his blissful touch only to see Yoongi turn back around with the same gummy smile back at another figure. “Hey, are we ready to go?” The high pitched voice rings your ears unpleasantly, already hearing the alarm sounds ringing offensively in your ears when you see her reach for his veiny hands.

“Uh, Yoongi?” Your voice sounded so small when you feel his arm disconnect from your frame and link up with the other female’s. “Did I - uh, miss something here?”

“Oh shit, right - you remember Tiffany, right?” The uneasiness began to bubble at the pit of your stomach when you see the smaller frame of the girl cling so closely to Yoongi’s. “She was an old classmate of mine in university. She used to work for my boss back then and - uh, yeah, we sort of got together.” His voice began to fade into an abyss, echoing inside your head.

“You - you mean you two are together?” Your brain was trying its best to piece everything together, but it failed to connect any information together. There was a look of concern on Yoongi’s face when he sees your brows knit together. You took every ounce of your being to hold it all together - to not show any unpleasantries on your face.

“Y - yeah, basically. I mean, we agreed that it wasn’t exclusive. We just had a couple of dates when we were both in Korea, right?” You see Tiffany nod in agreement and you were unsure whether the new information alleviated some of your uneasiness, but you were trying your best to feign happiness for the sake of your best friend..

“Oh my god, that’s wonderful. I - uh, I just - Yoongi isn’t the type to date randomly, you know?” You chuckle as you take in the new couple right in front of you. “I’m really happy for the two of you. Wow! I can’t wait to tell everyone about this!” You sounded so exasperated than pleased about the news of Yoongi’s new love interest.

Tiffany seemed to be, for the most part, satisfied with your reaction. You were really trying to fool the both of them - perhaps even trying to fool yourself that you should be happy for Yoongi. He is your best friend and he has finally found someone. You even found yourself offering to help the new couple with their luggage, giving them both a ride back to Yoongi’s apartment. Your kindness had ultimately fooled Yoongi himself. He seemed to be oblivious to your suppressed emotions.

“I’ll see you at Jin’s tonight? He said he scored some extra steaks from his meat supplier last night. I figured we can all catch up there. I was - uh, planning on introducing Tiffany tonight, if she’s up for it.” Yoongi was walking you out to your car and you began to chew on the inside of your cheek. The regulation of your emotions was wearing you thin and you feared Yoongi may sense the uneasiness of the situation.

“Uh, yeah, of course. I’ll be there.” You nodded instantaneously and you lifted your wrist to look at your watch, reading the time. “I should really get going -”

“You’re wearing it.” Yoongi noted, eyes examining your wrist. “It looks really good on you.” You weren’t so sure why, but  you can feel the hot, salty tears building on your eyes. You fought your quivering lips as they desperately wanted to curve onto a pout. Instead, they twitched unwantedly onto a small grin.

“Yeah, uh, can you tell I really like it?” You rush your words, ending your sentence with a weak chuckle. “Listen, I really need to go. I have to head to work in a couple of hours and I want to catch up on some sleep.” Yoongi nodded once, agreeing to catch up later on that night at Seokjin’s and you hugged him ever so tightly before you drove off, spilling every tear you held back.

That’s another reason to hate the airport.

It’s funny how time works.

It’s been around three months since Yoongi and Tiffany established their relationship.

For years, Yoongi pined for you. He attempted numerous times to confess his feelings for you, but there wasn’t really a perfect moment.

Now, you were pining for him.

Your circle of friends were startled to see Yoongi with an unexpected guest clinging dearly onto his arm. They were just as confused as you were; eyes often drifting to Yoongi’s and then to yours to seek for affirmation. But the answer lied in Yoongi’s irises as they lit up like the stars that every time he turned to Tiffany.

Out of pity (for you and his own sanity), Seokjin decided to divulge minute details about Yoongi’s dilemma for you.

“You had that on and off relationship with Taehyung. He was fed up with you crying over him. That’s when he really wanted to tell you.” You have convinced yourself that you have completely moved on from Taehyung. Then again, you’ve never really dated after your relationship with him. “He didn’t want to tell you how he felt about you when you two would break up because… he didn’t want to really take advantage of you - being vulnerable and all. But then when it seemed like the right time to finally tell you how he feels, you got back together with Taehyung or you decided to go on some random Tinder date.”

That was the most you can get out of any of Yoongi’s friends.

It’s funny how time works because now you were fully aware of Yoongi’s feelings for you and you were ready to return the same to him. But you’re back to square one, you’re back in a state of absolute confusion when you see Yoongi spending more time with somebody else everyday.

You debated when was the right time to confront Yoongi about this matter. Was it even a good idea to tell him how you feel? He was happy and content with Tiffany and you didn’t want to be the dickwad that ruined such a special thing.

Michelle was there to comfort you whenever you over analyzed the situation. But your insecurities began to get the best of you when you discovered Michelle would often speak about Tiffany - convincing you to get to know her more because she was a fun person to be around with. Hoseok and Jimin encouraged you to do the same because they’ve never seen Yoongi this happy before.

Perhaps you were being childish by trying subconsciously trying to ignore your friend’s new girlfriend, so you tried your best to brush past any insecurities and negativity and focus on making your best friend happy.

“Hey, uh -” You cleared your throat when you were sent through his voicemail. “I was wondering if you and Tiffany wanted to go out for drinks tonight. Michelle really wanted to celebrate because this really annoying co-worker of her finally got fired.” You chuckled into the receiver, fingers grazing through your soft mane. “We’ll be at the usual at 7pm. I hope you guys can make it.” You ended the call and tossed your phone to the side, scratching your head in the process.

“You’re trying, babe.” Michelle can clearly see your reluctance - trying to get close to the girl who you envied the most. “She’s really cool, I promise.”

The bar was packed that evening. For obvious reasons, it was a Friday night. This bar, in specific, offered inexpensive drinks and unlimited wings at specific times, so it was easily the hottest spot of the night. Everyone seemed to be gathered by the corner of the room. They had already occupied a booth big enough for everybody to sit at. Hoseok and Jimin were at the bar ordering the necessary drinks for everybody. Meanwhile, Seokjin and Michelle accompanied you at the booths.

“Did you get a call back from Yoongi?” Seokjin talked into your ear, seeing that you were dozing off into your own universe as you stared off into the crowd of people on the dance floor.

“Uh, no. I think he has other plans for tonight.” Your hands clutched your cellular device seeing no replies or call backs from Yoongi at all.

“Maybe. The night is still young.” Michelle cheered when she spotted Hoseok and Jimin coming in with beers and shots in their hands. You weren’t really fond of drinking alcohol. However, when your mind was so fixated on the idea of Yoongi choosing to spend his time with Tiffany instead of spending it with you, you agreed to drink that evening.

You opted for the beer, not wanting to experience the strong aftermath of hard liquor on your body. You thanked Hoseok and Jimin for ordering the drinks, mentioning that you would pay them back once the night is over. When everyone raised their desired drink in the air, Michelle commenced her toast on her ex co-worker finally being terminated from her position and wishing her the best of luck. You were conflicted when you laugh your hardest after taking a swig out of your beer bottle because you were having the time of your life when Yoongi wasn’t there.

Your face said it all and Michelle had to squeeze your arm to reassure you that it was okay. You needed to loosen up. You needed to stop over thinking everything and it didn’t matter who was there or not - you were having a good time with your friends and there was nothing wrong with it.

Michelle shared the story about how her ex co-worker got fired from her job and reminisced on all the times that left her infuriated at the former employee. After months of hearing stories about the abhorrent actions she would do to her, you were glad that the grand finale was something worth hearing about. Perhaps it was your buzzed demeanor that made the story so enjoyable to hear because you found yourself reaching for your second bottle after she had concluded her anecdote.

“Oh my god, I love this song!” Jimin took another shot and swallowed the liquor all down before he grabbed onto Michelle’s wrist and yours onto the dancefloor.

You roll your eyes when Jimin and Michelle force you to stay and dance. With a simple roll of your eyes, you were squeezed in between Jimin and Michelle. You were still nursing a beer bottle close to you. Your body heat was increasing due to the proximity of the people around you and the alcohol you consumed.

The beat of the music was easy to sway to and jump around when necessary. Michelle clung to you closely, satisfied that you were chortling away as Jimin would leave the two of you when he spotted a cute girl at the side to lure them into the middle of the dance floor.

When they moved onto the next song, your eyes drifted to the entrance and, suddenly, your universe stops momentarily. The last person you expect to come walking through those doors grins from ear to ear when he spots the boisterous group at the opposite side of the room.

“You’ve gotta be shitting me right now.” You hissed, barely audible but loud enough for Michelle to dart her eyes over to where your eyes were focused at.

Kim Taehyung takes a large, heavy swig out of a beer bottle when he is greeted by his closest friends. 

Every fiber of your being began to freeze the more your mind understands that this was, as a matter of fact, not a dream.

It’s been months since you’ve seen him.

The contortions on Michelle’s profile shows that she’s in much shock as you are. Your eyes avert to one of his friends, who jerks his head in your direction, eyes connecting to yours and you have to shake Michelle into reality.

“Quit staring.” You warn Michelle. A series of curses erupt from your glossed lips when Taehyung turns to see what his friend is tending to. Inevitably so, he searches the crowd only you happen to stick out like a sore thumb. With your cheeks burning scarlet, mortified with Michelle visibly panics in your peripheral vision.

“He’s walking this way.” You’re frozen to the ground and when Taehyung notices Michelle being pulled by an ignorant Jimin, you’re forced to stare right onto his smug grin as he finally squeezes his way past the crowd towards you.

“Hey.” Taehyung breathes heavily. “You still come to this bar, huh?” Taehyung’s deep voice vibrated loudly despite the boisterous noises blaring on the dance floor. His nonchalant small talk was definitely a disguise for what his honest intentions were. “Your hair’s shorter; it looks good.”

“That’s… enough, Tae." You seethed as you looked him straight in the eye. “It has been a while, so let’s… not do this, okay?”

“Oh, c’mon, _____, I’m just trying to catch up with an old friend, s’all.” His torments began to make your blood boil. Lips twitching as you keep your lips hidden from him.

“Well, I’m not.” You were already getting more and more agitated at the conversation, biting back anything remotely disrespectful at him. “I… am done with this conversation. I don’t know how else to say it, but we’re not going to -”

Your sentence completely interrupted when his warm, long digits wrap themselves around your wrist.

“Not even for old time’s sake?” His voice was tempting and you thought you have grown immune to his ministrations. But his other hand nestled onto your waist, fingers digging deep on your skin when you begin to reverse from where you stood, hoping it would create the distance you needed. “C’mon, when was the last time someone made you-” His whispers ensued an eruption of goosebumps throughout your body. 

You feel your knees getting weak when his hot lips barely brush underneath your ear and you gathered every ounce of pride in you to push him away from your body, interrupting his tantalizing teases.

“No more, Tae.” You croaked. The only thing you were focused on were the sounds of your own breathing. Your eyes drifted to your clenched fist that had been positioned on Taehyung’s chest; the charm bracelet gracing over your delicate wrist. 

All those times you came crawling back to Taehyung, assuming everything is going to work out but all your expectations fall short and Yoongi would be there to comfort you and remind you that you deserve someone better - you needed someone better.

“I’m sure you’ll have no problem finding someone else to make your dick wet, Tae.” You stumble backwards when you dismiss the conversation yourself, seeking refuge back to your friends. 

You can see Michelle smiling at you with pride and Jimin’s pleading look of sympathy. However, you had a look of disdain right across yours when you chug the last of your beer and your fingers gripped onto the minuscule shot glass of liquor and threw it inside of your mouth. You were proud of the choices you made that evening. But you still weren’t satisfied with yourself. Somehow, there’s a stinging irritation at the back of your mind when you’re reminded of Yoongi once again. You think of how he would react to you rejecting your ex-boyfriend; he would be proud of you and that should be enough for you to move past the agitation.

Yet there was still a yearning rushing through your veins with each sip of bitterness. Your idyllic heart beats hard against your chest when your mind drifts off to your own world. You yearned for him to be there, sharing a fit of laughter at Michelle’s ridiculous stories, drunkenly taunting Hoseok and Seokjin to hook up with some random girl at the bar. Suddenly, you are reminded of the enticing sensation of Taehyung’s hands on your frame. Instead, you thought of his digits pressing so firmly on your hips, hips swaying and guiding you to the beat of the song on the dance floor with his soft petals marking your delicate skin.

But he’s not here.

He’s not even yours, to begin with.

You were left unfulfilled and you were in distress, so you scold your halcyon heart for craving something it can’t have.

Delicate digits wrap themselves around the minuscule shot glass on the table. It burned as it coated your throat and you swallowed it down, eyes pinching together at the taste of the warm spirit. 

Your hands searched for your phone to see that there was still no text or call from Yoongi. The frustration that originated from Taehyung increased exponentially when you’re reminded that you are left with no one around you - not even Yoongi.

“I - I gotta go pee!” You were slurring your words and the world began to spin right in front of your eyes when you stumbled briskly over to the women’s bathroom. “I promise I’ll stop after the next round, al - alright?” At this point, you weren’t so sure who you were speaking to but you found yourself in line for the women’s bathroom.

In the depths of your jeans, you fish out your phone when you feel a buzz. As you unlock your phone, your brain attempts to breeze through the new text message you received.

Sorry. Just saw your message. Tiffany wasn’t feeling well. Rain check?

You grit your teeth feeling the tears build up at the corners of your eyes and you shut your phone off, shoving the small device back inside your pockets.

Your inhibition resulted in the depletion of your emotional stability. You couldn’t control yourself from the tears streaming down your reddened face. There was a horrendous assortment of emotions brewing at the pit of your stomach; you were sad, mad, and frustrated at the situation - it was out of your control and you began to pity yourself for crying over someone you could have but you were too oblivious - too lost in your own world and it’s all too late.

In a split second, you found yourself fishing out your phone back out of the confines of your pocket. You unlock it and search for Yoongi’s number before you initiated the call. As expected, lately, Yoongi’s calls have been leading you to voicemail and you were suddenly feeling the absolute magnitude of your anger boil at the pit of your stomach.

“H - Hey, I just got your message. I hope Tiff is feeling better. Is it okay if I call her T - Tiff? Because that’s what I think you call her.” Every syllable of your statement wavered in little stutters and you chewed on the inside of your cheek, preventing yourself from whimpering the flood of emotions. “I - uh, it sucks you’re not here. I wish you were. I saw - I saw Tae… and I -” At the mention of your ex-boyfriend, as if the universe was testing what little pride and dignity you had, he leans against the wall, placing himself in line for the men’s bathroom.

His profile alone lured you in; the way his jaw clenched as he mindlessly scrolls through his phone, tongue poking out to swipe across his bottom lip, and those hooded eyes glancing up to see what seems to be holding up the line.

At the corner of your eye, suddenly, he catches you staring at him.

Despite your inebriated demeanor, you are aware you are silent and just that one look from Taehyung had you wrapped around his fingers once again. “I - uh, I gotta go, Yoongi. I’m sorry.” 

You were already scolding yourself when you ended the call and found yourself scurrying back into the arms of Taehyung.

When your eyelids flutter open to the bright Saturday morning, the piercing pain of a hangover headache attacks your temples and your hands begin the laborious attempt to find your phone, needing to read the time. However, you’re taken aback when you feel a breathing figure right next to you. The heat of their skin burning your own and you roll to your side to see Taehyung sleeping peacefully right next to you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

You’re frustrated at yourself because you have no recollection of the night before. The last thing you can remember is rejecting him. The rest of the night seemed to be an absolute blur for you and you heard him groan at your soft scolds.

“Tae, wake up.”

You tried your best to be as gentle as possible when you shake him from his peaceful slumber. 

“You need to leave before Michelle sees you.” Your eyes search your room for a piece of clothing that would cover your top half.

“My head hurts.” He murmurs onto your pillow and he turns over, searching for the softness of your pillows to cuddle against. “I need an aspirin.”

All of your pride suddenly gone down the drain when your eyes study your room. Various pieces of fabric scattered from the door to the foot of your bed. The blanket tangled around you and Taehyung’s naked bodies with all your throw pillows on the verge of falling off your bed.

“Tae,” You whispered his name, surrendering in defeat. You’ve accepted that all those months of convincing that you were immune to his tricks were false. The universe has won and you were defeated; it was celebrating in victory. You were an absolute fool and you’ve accepted it as you laid right next to him, trying to piece events of the night together.

“What happened last night, Tae?”

His eyes fluttered open to see your eyes glued on the blank ceiling. From the events of last night, he sees you in a different light and he pities you when he can see the water works build in your orbs. He propped himself up and examined your profile - how vulnerable you were - and he desperately wanted to apologize at that very moment. Nevertheless, apologies would not relieve you of your self-deprecation.

“Don’t look at me like that. Just tell me what happened.”

He sighed, sucking on his bottom lip as he laid himself on his back, staring at the ceiling as you did. “I don’t know what happened before you… came up to me. You were really upset. You came to me crying and you said you just wanted to go back to your place.” You clutch on your duvet covers tightly, anticipating the worst. “We got to your place and you were having a good time.” He chuckled meekly until you notice him pause for a long time.

“Don’t get mad at yourself, _____.” He warns you as he turns to look at you and your eyes meet his, nodding for a moment.

“Just tell me everything. Don’t bullshit anything, please.”

He took a deep breath before he closed his eyes, licking his lips.

“You were drunk and I understand why it happened, okay?”

“Just fucking tell me.”

“You kept saying his name.” He rushed the hard truth out. He seemed just as mortified as you were. “You - you thought I was Yoongi. You just kept… saying his name at the end - when you, uh - you know.” Cheeks already a bright scarlet hue when Tae looks at you straight in the eye. “I, uh - we both stopped after we were done and you wanted... to cuddle, so I… stayed for the night.” Your palms enveloped your face when you stare at Taehyung in mortification.

“Oh god, I’m - I’m so sorry.” You shake your head in absolute disbelief, burying your face onto the plethora of pillows on your bed. “I know I’m asking for a lot here, but please don’t tell anyone about this. I was having a bad night. I was drunk and I didn’t know what I was doing.” Taehyung chuckled and ran his long digits through his smooth hair, nibbling on his bottom lip. 

“Trust me, I won’t be telling anyone about this. It doesn’t make me look any better, you know?” Suddenly, you find yourself sharing a fit of laughter with each other. You were two people - two victims of the cruel world. “I’m sorry. I can see you’re trying here, _____.” He looks at you once more with sincerity and you narrow your eyes at him.

“We need to stop doing this, Tae. We need to move on. We’re not… good for each other, you know that.” He hated to agree with you, but at the corner of your eyes you see him nod once. Unexpectedly, he pulls you close to press a gentle peck on your forehead, accepting the necessary fate of your relationship. “I’ll get you your aspirin and some water.”

When you muster every ounce of strength to roll out of bed to search for your robe, you tie it tightly around your waist, ambling softly to your door.

“_____,” Taehyung calls your name softly. “I always knew.”

You stop in your tracks when you fold your arms, insisting he explain himself further. “Knew what?”

“Yoongi.” He sat up on your bed, rubbing his eyes from the lack of sleep. “I knew you had a thing for him. Well, after last night, you… still have a thing for him.” You were taken aback from his statement and you shake your head in defense, a scoff erupting from your lips.

“That’s… not possible.” You were delusional, trying to convince yourself once more that everyone was wrong. You were wrong.

You were wrong to think you and Yoongi could happen.

“Stop being so dense, _____. It’s one of the reasons why I started getting jealous and possessive over you.”

The solemn contortion on his eyes notified you that you had to accept defeat once again. 

Everyone around you observed the truth between you and Yoongi.

You were impervious while he was resigned.

“Dress up.” You requested from Tae, deviating away from the topic - hoping Taehyung understood you didn’t want to discuss the subject any further.

Inevitably, Michelle knew about the entire encounter with Taehyung. She scolded you for not informing the group of your whereabouts, mainly because you were too intoxicated to form any coherent sentences. She whined about how she had to call Taehyung for his assistance only to discover that he had taken you home already.

“I swear to god, _____, you do this one more time and I’m actually going to slap you senseless until you get it straight to your head that Taehyung is not good for you.” Michelle’s anger seethed through her words and you could only laugh at her little soliloquy.

“I - I know, alright? I learned my lesson.”

She stopped rambling when she observes the way you rub your temples when you begin to sip on your hot coffee. “Listen, I love you and all, but… you just can’t keep letting yourself get hurt like that.”

“I got the message, Michelle.” She was shocked to hear the tone of your voice and she knew she was pushing it.

She captured the keys that had been placed on the coffee table, fiddling with them as she paved her way to the front door. “Try to recover from last night. If you need anything, call me.” 

You both bid your goodbyes as you watched Michelle exit out of your apartment.

You had the day off, thankfully. You really didn’t have anything to do but a bunch of chores around the house and a couple of errands to do.

You feared this moment; being absolutely alone with nothing to keep you busy. Sure, the first few hours may be a breeze, but once you’ve accomplished what you needed to do, the silence takes a toll on you and you begin to analyze your mistakes.

All thoughts were interrupted by the muffled footsteps approaching your front door and you hear the rapid knocking at the other side of the door. As you leaped out of the comfortable couch, tip toeing through the little peephole to see who your uninvited guest is, you begin to unlock the door instantaneously when you see a breathless Yoongi standing right before you.

“Hi,” Your eyes are wide as you see him clearly unhappy about something. His perfectly sculpted brows knit together. It was clear something is bothering him. You can feel the conflicted aura as he invites himself inside with his phone clutched tightly around his fingers. 

“Hey, what’s - what’s up?”

He didn’t respond to any of your questions. Instead, he put his phone on full blast when you hear his voice mail blaring through the speaker.

“You have two saved messages.” The feminine, monotonous voice echoed inside your living room and you stood there quivering in anticipation. “One saved message.” It alerted the only two people in the room and your heart was beating too quick for your liking.

“H - Hey, I just got your message. I hope Tiff is feeling better. Is it okay if I call her T - Tiff? Because that’s what I think you call her. I - uh, it sucks you’re not here. I wish you were. I saw - I saw Tae… and I -” Every sign of life drained out of your face as you listen to your inebriated state of mind. Slurs from the night before were embarrassing enough and there was a long pause in your recorded message. Finally, you hear deep sighs and the sounds of rustling in the background. “I - uh, I gotta go, Yoongi. I’m sorry.”

“To replay this message, press -” Immediately, Yoongi presses on 2; the option to save the regretful message. However, it was your turn to knit your brows into one as you listen to the same monotonous voice address there was another saved message. “One saved message.”

“Hey, Yoongs.” Your voice sounded more coherent now. Your mind still possessing no recollection of the message being played out. “I know it’s late, but - uh, I miss you. I’m sorry if it seems like I'm... distancing myself or something.” There was a whimper coming from the phone and the tears came prickling through your eyes and streaming down your cheeks as you listen to yourself sob. “I’m really happy for you. Everyone’s telling me she makes you really happy and that’s fucking great.” A self-deprecating chuckle erupts from your mouth as you listen on, still clueless from the forgotten message. “I’m trying, you know? You’ve moved on. I’m glad you did. I’m, uh, I’m trying to get over you too.” You could feel your world slowly crumbled beneath your feet as your eyes connect with Yoongi’s. You see his jaw clenched tightly and he sucks on his bottom lip as he replays the message for himself. “I’m so fucking stupid. I didn’t see it. I didn’t see you the way you saw me. But… I do now and it’s hard to see you with her. I don’t think I’ve said this out loud at all, but I - I think I’m in love with you.” You hiccuped onto the phone and you hear rustling in the background before the message abruptly concludes.

“To replay this message, press 1. To save this message, press -” You weren’t so sure which option Yoongi picked, but you watch him end the voicemail program and shove his phone back in the depths of his tight jeans.

“You’re trying to get over me?” Yoongi barely whispers, his voice almost inaudible as he takes a step closer towards you, but you take a step back from where you stood. You were afraid because you weren’t so sure of how he was feeling. You chose not to answer him, you choose not to meet his piercing gaze.

“Yoongi, let’s not -”

“Let’s not what, _____?”

His eyes shaped into bewilderment when you meet his. He did not want to surrender to your dismal demeanor; he obviously hates it when you cry, but he didn’t want to fall so easily to your pleads. He sought for answers that you could give him.

“Don’t do this, please.” You seethed as you grit your teeth, tears already streaming down your translucent cheeks. “I’m over it, ‘kay?” The words were so simple, but they didn’t resonate so well with him.

“When - when were you even - why didn’t you tell me?” His voice was increasing in volume and you were both growing frustrated at the lack of communication the both of you were willing to offer.

“Because you had already met her! I didn’t know you… you had feelings for me before you left.” The pain strangled in your voice was evident as you sobbed your reply. “You’ve moved on with her! And that’s fucking great, you know? You found somebody else and I just sucked it up and moved on! I didn’t want to fuck up a good thing for you.”

You weren’t so sure how Yoongi was taking all of this new information. He stood there holding his ground in silence, still trying to process the turn of events. His face unchanged but you coul see the pain and chaos appearing right through his irises.

“What about you, huh?” You decided to turn the tables on him. “You had… all this time to tell me how you really felt about me! Why didn’t you?”

Yoongi chuckled darkly, running his long digits through his black mane. “I tried so many times. At least, I tried to tell you, but there was never a good time! You - you kept going back to him. God, you were so frustrating to deal with sometimes, _____. You kept asking for my advice and I was the dumbass when I see you crawling back to him. Now, you’re - you’re -”

“I’m what?” Your foot mindlessly took a step closer to him. He was towering over you and you desperately wanted to yell at him out of pure frustration. “You think I’m weak.” You whispered harshly, a weak grin tattooed on your face this entire time. “I come crawling right back to him every time and you think I’m pathetic for thinking it’ll work out.”

“Stop it.” He demanded, closing his eyes shut as he listened to you taunting to yourself.

“I’m the dumbass, Yoongi. You did the right thing. You’re moving on and you chose the right girl.”

“I said to fucking stop.” Yoongi groans in exasperation as you continue to tear yourself apart.

“You’re happier now. We’re better off this way, right?”

“I’m not!” His booming voice made you feel small, but you were glad you got him all riled up because you knew he would bottle up all his thoughts to himself. “You think I’m happier? I’m still fucking in love you! I thought you would never feel the same way as I did and - and what I have with Tiffany is good, okay?”

He was breathing hard as he thought out loud. You watched his soft lips quiver with every word he spoke. “She’s sweet and - and she’s funny and she’s really fucking smart.” It sounded like he was trying his best to convince himself that Tiffany was better. The way he stammered, the way he was attempting to talk himself out of the situation you’ve inevitably put yourselves in. “I was happy and, now, I know you love me too and you can’t fucking do that, alright?”

“What do you mean I can’t do that? I didn’t mean to tell you I had feelings for you!” You weren’t going to take full blame for this. Of course, you were drunk and no one was there to monitor your actions, but you lacked any judgment when you made the drunken call to him.

“I’m good. I’m in a good place with Tiffany and you have no right to tell me how you -”

“Excuse me?”

“I was doing great with her until I found out about you.”

You gasped at him suddenly putting the blame on you. “I was doing great until I found out about you! You think this is a walk in the park for me? Seeing you with her that shit fucking -”

You couldn’t finish your sentence because you were sobbing. He could feel his own throat swallow him whole when he sees the hurt painted awfully on your visage. Both of you were arguing loudly and you could already hear your neighbors pounding on their side of the wall, demanding that you two keep it down.

You were aware of just how close your two bodies were. It wasn’t a foreign concept being this close to Yoongi, but you were more conscious of his deep sighs. You could hear the grievance and resentment in each sigh. Your nose smelled the fresh cologne that littered his skin and your eyes leveled to where his mouth remained parted. 

On the other hand, Yoongi can smell the lavender scent of your shampoo from where he stood. His mind screamed for him to take a step back, reflect on what his truly desires and belittle it for yearning for something -- someone he cannot have. Instead, every nerve in his system signaled for his fingers to twitch forward to tuck a the damp stray of hair behind your ear. The desperate longing to feel the heat of your tear stained cheeks was a challenge for him to overcome and he does so successfully by balling his hands into a fist when he drops his arm back to his side. 

“Well, I’m… I’m trying to move on, alright?” He counters softly, backing away from where you both stood so closely from each other. You can see the way his chest rose up and down, attempting to slow his breathing - attempting to calm himself down.

“So what? You’re just going to keep denying the fact that you have feelings for me? Shove it all in the box and put it in the corner?” You ridiculed the idea for a moment and you saw the ephemeral softening of his face conform back to the same callousness he had when he entered the room, slipping his hands inside the depths of his pockets.

“I’ve been doing it since I met you, so it should be easy enough to do.” You could see the pain in his eyes as he completed his heartbreaking declaration. “I - uh, I have to go.” Yoongi dismissed the conversation, straightening his posture as he slips his hands in the depths of his pockets. “I’m meeting Tiffany’s sister for breakfast.”

You swallowed hard at the information being thrown at you. He didn’t have to mention where he was off to. Perhaps it was a good thing at the same time considering you were probably going to be left wondering where he was headed to. You feel your legs mindlessly walk towards the front door and you unlock and swing it open for Yoongi to exit out of.

“I’ll see you whenever, I guess.” You whispered ever so softly, trying to remain composed and unfazed at his motives for the day. You awaited for his exit by the door and, for a moment, a part of you wished that he didn’t want to leave you all alone. But the both of you clung to your pride - what little pride you possessed - too much.

You both established that you possessed feelings for each other, chose not to do anything about it, and you both decided to move on from the mess you had both created.

He paused momentarily right by the door and he chooses to stride past by you, heading towards his car that had been parked idly by right next to yours. When he hops inside the driver’s seat, you slam the door as roughly as possible, leaning against the wooden frame, wishing that Michelle had never left for work in the first place.

It was a month and a half of bottling up all of your pain and sadness. You weren’t as resilient as him; you can only imagine how he felt when he saw you with Taehyung all those months being together. You wished you possessed the same strength as him - the same willpower as he did.

But you didn’t.

So you searched your entire apartment for your car keys to meet up with the one person you shouldn’t be seeing.

You had no sense of logic and rationality when you find yourself standing in front of the familiar door. You sought for a way to numb the pain - perhaps even sought a way to relieve you from the pain, make you feel good about yourself, even if it's for a couple of hours. You wanted to do something without thinking of the repercussions.

Now, you found yourself in front of Taehyung’s apartment. Your knuckles meeting the wooden door, awaiting for his greeting.

But it took him a while to actually appear at the door. You had to knock a few more times until you can hear him curse at your impatience. “I said give me a minute.” He grunts as he swings the door open to reveal a more sober and decent version of yourself. “Hey. What are you doing here?” He breathes out as he studies you from head to toe.

You were fully clothed with your hair still damp from the morning shower you had. All you needed to do was freshen up and change onto a comfortable pair of clothes before you sped off to Taehyung’s apartment. Meanwhile, he stood with black slacks that clung to his waist with a belt and a half-buttoned shirt with his hair still relatively damp from his shower.

“Hi,” You greeted him back as you fiddled with the sleeves of your sweater. “I know I’m totally contradicting everything I said earlier this morning, but… can I come in?”

There was a reluctance on his side. He was debating what could possibly be the reason for your visit.

“Ye - Yeah, of course.” He’s decided not to taunt at you for coming back to him once again. It was a cyclical nature; the way your relationship functioned with him.

“Did I interrupt you or something? Were you headed -“

“I was going to meet with a cousin of mine who’s in town, but I can just reschedule.” You decided not to protest at his statement, but you feel the obligation to do so since you were intruding his time. However, he decides to address the elephant in the room. “Listen, I’m trying not to be rude, but you literally just said we need to stop seeing each other and - well, you’re here and I’m - I’m just really fucking confused, _____. What’s going on?” He can tell from the way your eyes swelled and the redness of your cheeks that you had been crying, but he didn’t want to pry.

“I don’t know who else to talk to, to be honest. Michelle’s not answering her phone.” You clarified before you began chewing on the inside of your cheek. “I think I called Yoongi last night and I fucked up. I was drunk and… I think I just… ruined everything.”

You sat at his couch while he stood across the room with his arms folded across his broad chest. You began to fiddle with the hem of your sweater, trying to distract yourself from the mere thought that every ounce of pride and dignity you possessed was now sinking down the drain.

“He’s moved on, Tae.” You were starting to be more accustomed to the feeling of hot tears forming on your eyes, but you’ve learned to hold back from them streaming down your face. “I - uh, I really don’t want to pine over someone who doesn’t want me, to be fucking honest. At least, not today.”

The tension in the air was so thick and dense and the silence that settled on the atmosphere caused your stomach to churn. You were already thinking of a smooth recovery out of this situation.

Instead, the room echoes when Taehyung began speaking.

“And… you want me to help you with that?” Taehyung was already ambling towards where you sat at a painstaking pace. Your eyes were glued on the floor, examining the way your feet seemed so much smaller in comparison to his own.

Your lengthy silence was enough for his index finger to caress your cheek over to your chin, lifting your chin up to meet his gaze. “I need you to say it yourself, _____.” He crouches right in front of you, hoping being at the same eye level with him would help you focus on your decision. “I need you to say you want this.”

“I - I don’t want to think right now.”

The way his eyes studied your face inevitably led to some salty tears falling down your cheeks. The pad of his thumb wipes the hot tears off of your cheek and you nestled at the comfort of his palm.

“I… want to feel good even if it’s just for a couple of minutes. I don’t want to think.” Both of Taehyung’s hands cupped your small face as he presses his forehead against yours, noses touching each other. “I don’t… want to think of him.”

You couldn’t say it out loud. But, at that moment, you needed Taehyung.

“Oh, darling,” He barely whispers when his fingers crawl to the back of your neck, hands tugging at the end of your hair to encourage yourself to look at him. “I’ll make sure you won’t be thinking of him.”

You were taken aback by Taehyung’s words, but more so his actions.

The tenderness of his palms evolved onto a rough yearning for you.

It all happened in a split second, Taehyung lifts you up from his couch and, instinctively, you wrap your legs around his waist. Arms slither around his broad shoulders and your lips attach to his once again. His lips felt like soft petals capturing your own, savoring the taste of your nectar.

In the beginning, he treated you as delicately as possible. Your fragile digits combing through his freshly washed hair, paying more attention to the hair at the back of his neck. Sweet hums of blissfulness erupts from both of your lips when he carefully throws you onto his bed.

You landed on a plethora of pillows and he offers you a look of reassurance as his digits play with the hem of your sweater. With a simple nod, you were exposed to him, revealing the lace bra you wore underneath the overly large sweater.

“Jesus fucking Christ, _____.” He practically rips your sweater off of you, but he chooses to peel the thick layer of clothing of your frame. He growled into your ear, teeth latching onto the lobe as he tugs it down. His flat tongue licks onto the sweetest spot on your neck, suckling ever so softly to leave his mark right on you.

His fingers expertly fiddled with the hook of your bra easily unclasping the annoying piece of garment off of your breasts. With his large palms, he cups both of them, kneading them and savoring the warmth of your body against his. The tip of his tongue flicks on the hardened bud of your nipple. He pinches the other, stimulating it just as much as the other.

“You’re not thinking of him now, are you?” All this time Yoongi never crossed your mind until Taehyung had brought him up. You shake your head as a response and a notable smirk etches onto his mouth. You focused on his merry work on your breasts and you don’t even realize how much you had been squirming underneath him - how soaked you were underneath him. Thighs were pressed so tightly together, desperately seeking the friction you yearned for. 

Taehyung is well aware of this. However, he wants to test just how far you would wait for him to touch you where you wanted to be touched the most.

Mewls and whimpers erupted out of your stained lips when his thigh is placed right in between yours, pressing up against your warm core. Your back arches at the sensation of his limb adding pressure onto the most sensitive area you possessed.

He guides your attention towards his own predicament. Underneath his slacks, you could feel the heat and hardness of his member insisting itself upon the inside of your thighs. A sight of pleasure spills out of your lips when his hands cups over your clothed core.

“I know you said you didn’t want to think of him and you shouldn’t.” Taehyung remarks, sinking his head farther down your hips. His mouth envelopes your smooth skin, nibbling at the sides. His teeth toying with the garter of your leggings and underwear. “But, fuck, he doesn’t know what he’s missing out on.”

You were perplexed that Taehyung’s words would have an effect on you - even after all this time. It brought you some of your self-esteem back and you didn’t necessarily protest against his actions.

Taehyung’s fingers hook onto the garter of your leggings and underwear which he peels right off of your legs, exposing your already drenched cunt. He marveled at how pink and raw your other set of petals were, how it glistened under the natural light. “Fuck, you smell good.” The tip of his nose nudges at your core, the softness of his mouth enveloping briefly on your labia before he releases it with a simple pop.

It was an instantaneous sensation, but your fingers searched for something to grasp onto. When your delicate digits tangle themselves onto his mane, Taehyung’s dark hues dart over to where you squirm underneath his touch. “- taste so fucking good, too - fuck.”

Large, warm palms press firmly onto your hips, keeping them grounded onto the mattress. He begins utilizing his tantalizing tongue to lick along the perimeter of your core. Every now and then, you can feel his teeth graze upon your fragile skin, sucking at the softness of it. He marveled at the way your body reacted.

You responded so well to his touch. He had touched you so briefly and he can see your nectar coating the petals that were settled in between your thighs. “Tae,” You stutter his name, swallowing every ounce of pride you had possessed. “Touch me, please.”

“Mm, gladly.” His thick lips enveloped your clit. As he suckled on the sensitive nub, his tongue flicked from top to bottom and side to side. You wasted no time to wrap your legs around his head, fingers curling around his smooth hair. The heat of his tongue lapped back and forth from the entrance of your core over to the bud once again. The heat of his palms encouraged you to spread your legs more for him, granting him the ease of access he needed.

When you cooperate to his unspoken requests, the desired pressure of his middle finger prods over to your hole and you arch your back at the sensation. Slowly slipping his long finger inside you, he savors the heat of your cunt already curling when he observes your eyes rolling at a specific spot.

“You’re going to make me cum already if you keep doing that.” You strangled a moan. It was an overwhelming sensation to have his tongue flat against your bud while a single digit seemed to curl inside of your wetness. Your toes already curling, awaiting for the coil to snap inside of you.

“So soon?” He taunts lifting his head away from your thighs to capture the moment with his own eyes. “But it’s just… one finger, darling.” The absence of his tongue resulted in a symphony of whimpers. However, he compensates it with another digit - his ring finger - being prodded inside you as well. The stretch was well worth the wait and your eyes closed shut when he pistons his digits in and out of your hole.

You clenched so tightly around them and his patience was wearing thin as well. “So tight. I can’t believe after all this time, you’re still this fucking tight, baby.”

His tongue laps repeatedly over your nub while his index and middle finger resume pistoning themselves inside your entrance. A thumb circling your nub to encourage the orgasm to arrive and it was enough to send you over the edge. You squealed and squeezed around him, feeling the heat of your body radiate around the room.

Beads of sweat already prickling your skin when you attempt to recover from your brief yet intense orgasm. Your eyes examine the way Taehyung’s hooded lids seems to be gazing down upon you. Swiping your tongue right across your petals, you lift yourself up from his bed and stretch your neck to plant them ever so softly onto his. The lingering nectar that coated his were soon licked and cleaned by your own mouth. A rumble came deep from his chest when you feel his large palm envelope your small hand onto his erect manhood.

Hastily, your hands scramble to unlatch the buckle of his belt and unzip the zipper of his jeans. You were more aware of your breathing; it was uneven and erratic. Taehyung assists you with stripping the annoying layer of clothing off of him by peeling the shirt off of him, revealing his broad chest. You reveled at the state of his near naked body but you can tell he’s growing impatient with the way his length twitched underneath your touch.

Your eager mouth enveloped the pink tip of his member and you savored the saltiness of his pre-cum. A baritone grunt echoes his room when your hot tongue starts coating every inch of his cock with your saliva. You were gripping the base of his member, pumping at a steady pace and when your eyes flicker over to his, he rolls his head back to savor the way your small hand can barely wrap around his cock.

When you decide to release his length from your grip, your own petals wrap themselves around the thickness of his girth, hollowing your cheeks in the process as you take him inside your hot mouth further. Series of curses, deep sighs, and erotic moans encourage you to hasten the bobbing of your head.

You can feel the tip of his member already hitting the back of your throat, realizing that his own hips searches for the necessary tightness and depth it desired. You stopped your bobbing giving him complete control over your mouth. Hips thrusting at the rhythm he established while both his hands gather your hair to reveal your aching face, struggling to keep him in.

Spit dripping off of the corners of your mouth, cheeks remaining hollowed while he fucked your mouth greedily. Your eyes began to tear at the position you were in, but you basked in pride when you see Taehyung grit his teeth, struggling to delay his release. “God, that’s a good, baby; can’t believe you can still deep throat this big fucking cock.”

When he releases the vice grip he has on your hair, you take this as an opportunity to release his thickness with a pop, only to see a string of saliva from your lip to the head of his dick.

“I - I want to ride you.” The confession came out all out in one breath and at first glance you see a smug grin right across Taehyung’s features. He proceeded to respond to you with a meek chuckle, shaking his head in disapproval.

With furrowed brows, you retreated in confusion. However, he straightens himself, hovering over you when you ruminate on his decision.

“Why not?”

“I have my reasons.” He comforts you by nuzzling his nose at the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent. He encourages you to lay down comfortably.

“I’d like to hear them.” You barely whisper when you can feel his length just resting comfortably in between your folds.

“I don’t hear you protesting against this.” He hisses, feeling his hips tauntingly thrust on your folds to coat every inch of his erect cock, prodding at the entrance every now and then.

“I - I’m not against this, but I’d like to be on top.” You plead, eyes opening to meet his once more.

Once again, his lips etched onto the same smug grin and you knit your brows together like you had before.

“I’d love to have you on top of me -”

“But?”

“- but the last time you were on top of me, you kept saying his name.”

All teases and taunts put to the side, you both hiss at the sensation of his length stretching into your tight hole. Your thoughts were being clouded with the haze of ecstasy he had inflicted onto you. He wasn’t all the way in and you can feel your toes already curling when he retreats back and slams right into you.

A yelp erupts from your mouth, foreheads pressed against each other as he gazes down at your parted lips. Your cheeks turned a bright hue at his reason and you couldn’t blame him for it. “With me on top,” He slams right back into you once again, feeling just how thick he is around you while the tip of his cock prods right onto the spot you love the most. “At least you’re reminded of who’s making you feel this good.”

His words would be enough to send you over the edge and you craved for so much more. The pace of his thrusts began to escalate. He became rougher as well; the way he gripped your thighs, nails digging into your skin while he still held his weight over you. You proceeded to close your eyes, feeling your eyes roll back and your back arch closer against his.

“Look at me, _____.” Taehyung demands, gritting his teeth feeling his thrusts get much more rigid - rougher than it already was. When your eyes flutter open to meet his, you are met with his piercing gaze.

“Taehyung,” His name leaves your lips and it encouraged him to hasten his pace - if it was even possible. With quivering lips, you capture his in between yours and he moans into your mouth when you initiate by poking your tongue and licking inside his mouth.

“It’s good to hear you finally saying my name.” He erupts a guttural grunt. The timbre of his deep voice booms right into your ear when he begins to pepper harsh kisses upon your delicate skin.

“Oh, god,” Your hips were moving in sync with his. The sounds of your skin slapping against each other increased in volume and, suddenly, you were aware of the springs of his beaten mattress underneath the both of you. In addition to that, the frame of his bed seemed to bang in rhythm with each thrust Taehyung performed.

“Fuck, you’re so tight, baby.” The difference in nickname, without a doubt, caught you off-guard but it was enough to increase the pleasure at a tenfold. Trembling legs still managed to latch themselves around his waist. However, you feel his hot hand grasp onto your shin, propping it over his shoulder.

His length exits out of you momentarily. But the minute he slams right back into you, a blissful and strained squeal leaves your throat. With eyes wide open, the new angle was something you were not expecting. You surprised yourself at how flexible you seemed to be having your leg practically folded at an obscure angle, but somehow it ignited a different flame for the man on top of you.

“I can feel you squeezing me so tightly.” His thumb grazes over to your nub carefully, adding the much needed friction you sought.

“You’re so fucking hot and wet, darling.” The increased pressure against your nub and speedy and animalistic thrusts coaxed the coil set deep within you to snap at any second. “I can feel you; you want to cum so bad.”

You weren’t so sure how to respond so you begin to nod at once. “Please, Tae.” You pleaded in between blissful moans. “Please make me cum.”

How small your voice sounded beneath him ensued him to flip you over on your fours. Taehyung happened to be full of surprises when he grasps onto a handful of your hair, roughly prompting you to arch the upper half of your body much closer to him while he remained buried deep inside you. His other arm supported you as they slithered from your hip up to grasp firmly on one of your breasts.

His breathing was more erratic and harsh as his mouth is pressed onto your ear. “You like having my cock buried deep inside this tight pussy?”

A constrained grunt spewed from your bruised lips in response to his query. Satisfied to hear your response, the way he rammed his length inside your entrance was more resolute than before signaled that he was close to his climax as well.

A mortifying fear began crawling at the back of your mind realizing you won’t be able to see Taehyung directly when you both peak, so your fingers latch onto his hand, hoping that it would be enough to remind you it was Taehyung who is making you feel this way.

Not Yoongi.

Instinctively, your eyes search for something to distract you of your thoughts of Yoongi and at the corner of your eye, you catch a glimpse of his mirror just merely reflecting the image of two bodies intertwining themselves. Your hair completely disheveled while Taehyung’s hair mopped onto his forehead.

From the mirror, you see his mouth placing hot kisses at the back of your shoulder and you sighed in euphoria. He praised your body - every inch of it. When your irises land on your own figure, you did not recognize yourself. Mouth agape as a symphony of blissful sighs escape your mouth, bruised marks scattered on your neck to your chest and your hip.

Unexpectedly, the hand that had gripped onto your mane tightly was suddenly loose and Taehyung’s hands crept down in between your thighs to begin rubbing aggressive circles around your clit once again. The erotic sight of it of yourself with him had sent you over the edge a second time and the sensation plummeted over to your entire body. It trembled underneath Taehyung’s and you can’t help but fall back onto his as he continues his sloppy thrusts into you.

Thankfully, he manages to clutch onto your figure when he attempts to reach his own high. You’re still achieving your own orgasm, savoring the sensitivity of your swollen nub. After a succession of breathless squeals, you hear a sequence of curses so close to your ear and you feel the throbbing of his length empty his seed inside of you.

When you both recovered from your climax, the exhaustion settled upon both your worn bodies. You can feel the muscles that held onto you closely ache when you both inevitably fall on the tattered mattress. He still remained inside you, softening in the process while your entrance still managed to clench around his girth.

With his arms still slithered around your frame, he savored the fragrance of your freshly shampooed hair when his nose nuzzles at the top of your head. Both of your eyes fluttering close, you began to breathe peacefully. 

What catches you by surprise is the single tear that runs down your cheek.

But at that moment, the silence that filled the room wasn’t at all perplexing. 

Not even the kiss he peppers on your shoulder as he pulls you closer to his body - reassuring you that one way or another, you will be better.

↪ Continue on to chapter two!

#bangtan smut #yoongi smut #taehyung smut #yoongi x reader #taehyung x reader #i can't believe i'm actually posting this but shsudifhaf #se 01

[brideylee]

Chateau Quarantine

                 Sophia Coppola smokes a cigarette while she waits for an omelette she has no intention of eating.  It’s a gloomy marine layered morning, you can barely see across Sunset. She’s been in lock down for three weeks and while she normally loves the moody, brooding decadence of the Chateau Marmont, its elite solitude is giving her a bit too much time to reflect. She thinks about the concept of crying as she watches a long torso-ed model skinny dip in the pool from the penthouse. There are no rules anymore, not that there were many in the first place. The hotel was shuttered to the public as of three weeks ago, and those who were already there could stay indefinitely. Sophia lives alone in the tower suite with the three bedrooms and the wrap around porch, known by some as “the Deniro”, but Robert himself couldn’t tell you why. Any legends or gossip about the Chateau were just bread crumbs to keep the public hungry and mystified. The real Chateau for the privileged few who used it, was an unceremonious respite for excessive loneliness, addiction, and often not great sex. The Chateau had a reputation: look but don’t fuck. Everyone’s genitals were rendered useless from anti-depressants.

               She thought she would be filming by now. Her cast is stranded too, with little guidance other than “we’ll wait it out.” The film she wanted to make stars Hugh Grant and Ewan McGregor as two estranged brothers coming together for their father’s funeral. Iman was set to the play the mysterious woman who shows up at the funeral who they then realize was their father’s mistress. It was going to be a slow movie about the brothers coming to terms with their father’s death and equally so falling in love with the woman he hid from them. All this would be suggested through intimate long takes, and funny, stylish, improvised montages. Always subtle and romantic without the sap, this was the tight rope Sophia liked to balance on.  At the end of the movie, both brothers are mildly changed, but not entirely. She has a sweet spot for the immovability of people’s psyches, particularly men. 

Sophia watches impartially, as the naked model floats on her back in the calm pool. It is so cold and early to swim, is she on drugs or is everyone at this place even more numb than they think? She wondered if her film was too male, too disembodied from her personally to mean anything.  Tapping into the male gaze, was an ability she was born with. Her father’s point of view was all she interacted with as a kid, and the underside of his specialties became her focus: the lost parts of men when they are too weak to hold up the heavy crown of their egos, who they were when they could let themselves feel outside of their work. But given the state of the world, and the molasses nature of time during lock down, Sophia started to question if what she always found to be her strength was just simply trauma. Was her whole profession a way to resolve some genetic creative stifling that took place in the shadow of her dad? Surely her body of work contains more than that. It’s not all a selfish attempt at repair. Is any art not selfish? "Maybe I should make a different movie, something that everyones gonna like for once.” She thinks to herself.  Thank God, her goat cheese omelette has arrived.

             Later on, the gothic lobby is empty besides the cast of her film and the elegant model behind the reception desk standing like a hollow sculpture, frightened by the chaos that lurks outside. Ewan McGregor, drunk off of five Marmont Mules, is showing Hugh Grant an app that maps the stars and constellations. Ewan has gone on and on about a camping trip he took around Scotland and how amazing the stars were, but when pressed for details about where exactly he was or what he saw or what year he did this, he can’t seem to remember anything at all.But that doesn’t dampen his excitement about the app. “See, that, there is Orion’s belt!” Ewan enthusiastically points out, his cute smirk displaying his bottom row of sweet corn kernel teeth. Ewan just recently learned about the stars. Until the age of 47, Ewan had been referring to them as “night freckles.” Many think this is why he didn’t have a fun time acting in  Star Wars, space simply befuddled him. Hugh and Ewan are dressed exactly the same: navy blue beanie, black jeans, a tight blue thermal, and desert boots- the actor man uniform they give you after you play opposite Nicole Kidman or Renee Zellweger.

“That’s brilliant,” says Hugh Grant completely perplexed by the app and confused at Ewan’s rambling. Hugh sticks a handkerchief up his nostril with his pointer finger and wiggles it around somewhat violently. Iman clocks this with a blink of disgust, her silk, gold blouse  glistens with god-like royalty in the amber glow.  “Can you turn your face away? That’s how the virus is spreading.” Her voice is deep and she rarely uses it because it changes the direction of the wind and messes with the tides.  “Aw, fuck me. That’s right, isn’t it?” Hugh Grant turns away and starting blowing his nose and coughing obnoxiously. Hugh is acting like a resentful brat because he knows he wont be able to have Iman. He decides he’s gonna pick a fight with Sandra Bullock via face time later to blow off steam. Iman is thinking she was right all along, she should never have agreed to this. She was already sick of the “beanie twins”. 

Hugh had been rattling on about how the movie needed a sex scene or at least a sexy scene and went on to say that Sophia had some sort of block. Iman felt that both Ewan and Hugh, however innocently, were exploiting their acting roles to gain real life experience, and there was no way in hell, she was going to kiss either of them.  Her kiss would make them immortal and Iman knew their souls needed more lifetimes to grow. Plus, she liked the script the way it was- underwritten and open for interpretation. Her character is symbolic of the side of their dad they didn’t get to meet-  spiritual, graceful, embodied. It was a soulful choice not to show any nudity or sex, one that could lead Americans to try to use whats left of their iPhone stolen imaginations.

                Meanwhile Michael Cain, who was supposed to play the dead father, is staring at the beautiful Victorian tapestry hanging behind her. “It’s like it’s right out of the Cloister’s.” Michael says under his breath. Michael is sweet, Iman thinks as she watches him stare at the tapestry with wonder, his mouth agape, and a lil warm milk spilling out of his left eye. Iman and him have known each other for years and he always reminded her of her husband: his fierce devotion to his craft, his rigorous intellectuality that does a bad job hiding an animalistic sexuality. Both men contained so much and no one can handle a man like that besides a mystical siren like Iman. 

Hugh and Ewan’s chatter dies as their drinks empty. “If I were to be honest with myself…” Hugh begins. “Better later than never…” Michael Cain interrupts without cracking a smile,  a dryness a la Maggie Smith. In fact, fuck, this was Maggie Smith. No one had realized. Hugh winks at Michael/ Maggie and continues. “ I don’t think were going to be filming any time soon, folks. I think we are being held hostage a bit by Miss Coppola.” Ewan stares off with a thinking face like no one has  ever had a deeper thought before. “That is interesting to think about. There is some kind of bratty assumption that all this will fade away soon enough. And we’ll be back on set. But what if it’s not for another year or so?”  Ewan is really getting worked up “What if we live here for the rest of our lives!!” His eyes are big and dazzling, it’s like he’s thinking of the most ideal outcome for the rest of his life.

               Suddenly, Sophia joins them at the table. “There they are, my little hunchbacks!” This is what Sophia affectionately calls her actors, the origin is unknown. Sophia has a strange new confidence around her. Usually, when she walked into places, she would feel like a Nat Sherman cigarette, like only some select tall New Yorkers in the back would still appreciate her. “Hello, love! Someone slept well.” Maggie Smith as Michael Caine chirped. Even when Maggie-Michael said something sweet, it still felt like someone was aggressively tickling your ribcage. 

          “I have news.” Sophia sits down, and smiled large and toothy, a stark contrast to her usual chic, despondent stare,  a look only afforded  to artists born with trust funds. “We’re not making the movie.” Hugh taps the table. “Well, I believe I won that bet.” Ewan’s jaw drops, destroyed. “You mean we cant live here together forever?” He runs his hands through his hair, petrified. Iman is quiet, which can mean many different things and all things at once, she is eternally the glory of God, a forgotten pyramid at the bottom of the ocean that if unearthed would explode us into 5D ascension. 

 “We are making a better movie! A super hero movie!!” Sophia exclaims. Sophia gets up close in the faces of her cast, pitching them on her new idea. “It’ll be a real heroes journey- good guys versus evil! Fun CGI! Sexy starlets and fun on trend jokes!” She turns to Michael Maggie, her mouth inches away from their milky eye, and says- “And much much more!” Sophia climbs up on the table now. “The adults will love it, as well as the little ones!” She does an Irish jig and starts spinning around and then poses with her arms up as though at the end of a musical.  It was not fun to watch.  Iman cuts her off-“I don’t trust what is happening.This is not reality. This is delusion. A karmic spell.” The power of Iman’s words blows the power out of the Chateau, pipes burst, the fire alarm goes off, and Joel Madden of Good Charlotte in room 304 stops jerking off for a second. Sophia is still catching her breath from her presentation, her sweating, arms stretched to the ceiling. She gulps as her eyes meet Iman’s. “Why don’t you just write from my character’s point of view?” Iman says as softly as she can without causing chaos.   Sophia freezes. Her whole body calcifies and turns to ice, then crumbles onto the table. Ewan and Hugh watch in absolute horror as Iman drops some of the ice into her water. She knows she shouldn’t have said yes to this project and looks on lovingly at Michael/ Maggie who has dozed off. 

[southeastasianists]

The exhibition features interviews with 13 different luk khruengs, or half Thai people. The word “luk khrueng” literally translates to “child half.” The interview subjects discussed their ethnic and national identities, and relationships to Thai identity, nationalism, and culture.

“Luk Khrueng Generation” is an interractive exhibition through augmented reality (the combination of art and digital media), in which attendees used the app Artivive. Aline also screened her short documentary "Luk Khrueng Generation: On Being a ‘Half’ Thai.”

Aline’s work is often linked to identity issues such as gender, migration, cultural mix and heritage. She said that the exhibition was intended to explore how Thailand’s ideas about mixed race people have changed over time.

Luk khruengs first became a known reality in Thailand during the Vietnam war era in the 1960s and 70s, during which American GIs often came to Thailand during their breaks, and formed temporary relationships with Thai prostitutes. The children created from these relationships were then known as children of prostitutes, creating a stigma against luk khruengs.

As Thailand became more and more globalized, however, luk khruengs became increasingly common. Today, luk khruengs are often associated with Thailand’s entertainment industry. Luk khruengs of European descent in particular are often very successful in acting and modeling, due to Thailand’s beauty standards that value white skin and other Western features. Yet, stigma still exists, as luk khruengs are still often told that they are “not really Thai” and are often bullied in school.

Deschamp’s exhibition and documentary explore the experiences of luk khruengs living in modern-day Thailand.

When You Belong Nowhere

All of the interview subjects expressed feeling as though they belonged neither in Thailand, nor their other country of origin.

One subject, Veronica, 32, grew up in Italy. She said that in Italy, she was one of two half-Asian people in her school. She was called “Chinacena!” by people driving or walking by her. In Thailand, however, her own cousin called her “farang farang quinok,” or “foreigner foreigner bird’s poo.” Both these experiences, she said, were very alienating.

Another subject, Panyavee Phongsithai, a Thai-French artist, also recalled namecalling against her when she was growing up. She was called “pale monkey,” due to her fair skin. Since she had red hair, her teacher told her “You have to die your hair back, you cannot have red hair like this.” She then had to show her teacher photos of her family members in order to prove that her red hair is natural.

One half French man who did not reveal his name, 34, said that his cousin was forbidden from hanging out with him because he was “too white.”

Many subjects then note that, later on, being a luk khrueng seemed to suddenly become trendy and hip.

Odette Jacqumin, a Thai-French luk khrueng, said, “Out of the blue, people started pointing at luk khruengs [saying] ‘You are cute! You are pretty!’ No one really understands how it happened, but it exploded as a phenomenom.” This was in stark contrast to the bullying that Odette experienced as a child, when no one at school wanted to be her friend because she was a luk khrueng.

For luk khruengs with darker skin, however, discrimination often continues into adulthood. Aaron Warner, who is half Thai half Carribean, and from London, said that his sister wanted an English teaching job in Thailand. She had an interview for one position, which went well. After the interview, however, the employer told her, “We’re sorry, but we prefer someone with a white face.”

Other luk khruengs with dark skin, however, say that this attitude is also changing. One subject, Sukanya Sesenyat, who is half South African, and also has dark skin. Sukanya is a model. She said, “In terms of opportunities, Thailand opened up a lot recently. Especially for black people. So I get a lot more work opportunities because it’s rare to find black Thai models. Now there is much more diversity than before, the situation is improving.”

Participants’ Reactions

Many audience members were luk khruengs themselves, and said that they felt the interview subjects’ experiences resonated with them.

One woman, Airin, 17, who is mixed Thai and Chinese, said that she experienced some teasing in school for being Chinese, however, that it was not very serious.

Stefan Crucifix, 38, who is half French, said, “I can’t be in either place for too long. When I’m in France for too long, I need Thailand. When I’m in Thailand too long, I need France. I need both.”

Stefan Rustler, 31, who is half German, said, “I think what we all have in common is that journey that I myself am part of, in trying to find out who you are and where you belong. Of course I belong to Germany, but there are many things that are not German about me where I have some friction here and there, and maybe feel more comfortable in Thailand. Yet I’m also not a local to Thailand, so in a way I’m a foreigner everywhere. But I’m like, embracing this, that I don’t fully 100 percent belong anywhere, but I like that. I think many luk khruengs have this struggle, and, many have made peace with this, and have made this part of their identity, that there is this constant struggle, but it’s a beautiful struggle. It’s symbolic of our globalized world and I think we can be ambassadors of multiculturalism and building bridges between different cultures.”

A Resolved Identity?

In her description of the exhibition, Aline said that this project was a part of her own quest for identity. Prachatai English asked Aline if this had culminated in anything. Aline said, “Yes, looking for other people to tell their story definitely responded in that quest for identity, because I think identity is what you choose to make it. It’s not about genetics, it’s just the culture you’re playing with, and seeing that I’m not the only one to be alone in many ways, and so many people experience exactly the same things, helped me to actually be okay with both sides. And really feel it’s [being a luk khrueng] is something enriching, rather than something to be ashamed of or reject. As the world becomes more globalized, more mixed people are gonna come in the next generation. So I think everyone should embrace those two sides.”

#Southeast Asia #Thailand #Art #Luk Khrueng #Identity

[cherylblossomfashionanaylsis]

1x09 Chapter Nine: La Grande Illusion

Hello fellow Bombshells, I apologize for the absence, my cousin’s wedding was this past weekend so I’ve been off celebrating and what not. But fear not cause I am back and what better episode to be back with than this very Cheryl-centric episode, yay!!

Thicker than blood, more precious than oil. Riverdale's big business, is maple syrup.

This episode focuses around the Blossom family business and inheritance now that Jason is gone. We finally get to explore Cheryl’s story in detail and I think this is when we begin to see why Cheryl is the way she is. 

In our opening montage, we get a glimpse of Cheryl in this rather simple outfit involving her black crop ribbed leather jacket, a black choker, her red/burgundy spider brooch and a burgundy shift dress. Not much to say about this other than the whole Blossom family is wearing black and burgundy, Cheryl is part of the fam here.

Idk how they’re not wearing tights, I would literally be dying. Jeez. Anywaaaays, they are solemnly waiting for the arrival of the Blossom clan all in red prints. Cheryl is wearing her burgundy gloves from 1x07 when they went on the hunt for Polly. Her red spider brooch is prominently in place. I’m not 100% positive but her blazer appears to be a cropped bluish-gray item that matches her skirt well. 

The underneath part as show at school! This is a simple red turtleneck and this skirt, hmmm. It is so similar to one she wore recently in episode 4x06. I noticed it as I was going through my screenshots for this episode, I find it fascinating however because 4x06 is the first appearance of Aunt Cricket and Uncle Bedford since this episode, 1x09! How fantastic is that subtle nod. 

Wild. 

On a final note about this outfit, this is the first appearance of Cheryl’s red flame heels and certainly not the last. I think in this episode they show her fierce loyalty to the Blossom name. 

Oh, the exclusive maple tapping. This episode obviously tells us that Riverdale is presumably in the northernmost part of America as it has obvious Canadian ties throughout (and is filmed in Canada). But, it is very obvious in this episode. As for Cheryl’s maple tapping outfit, she has on large black stone earrings with crystal trim and her black spider brooch. A black turtleneck to keep warm since tights were apparently forbidden for her in this episode.

Ugh, her cloak. The hood and the flow, the little red riding hood vibes, I’m obsessed. Just as V looks amazing in her black cape, Cheryl was meant for this cloak. Under the turtleneck is this tight, rounded black dress with red trims. I love her red and black checked gloves. Her boots are black leather or possibly rain boots. Regardless, she looks adorable albeit a little cold. 

Can we pause for a moment of appreciation for Penelope’s pants? They’re. dope. Also, weird family picture. 

Mmm, the next night, Cheryl rolls up to Archie’s house, gift in hand. A nice ass guitar. Cheryl’s family definitely seems the type to show gratitude with lavish gifts, even when it feels unwarranted, much the way the Lodges do as well. But, as for the outfit, I like it. I love the detail on the shoulder of her black sweater. Her earrings are tiny black ear jackets and her simple black choker adorns her neck, weirdly loosely. The silver bracelet ties in nicely to her crystal shoulder detail.

Cute simple red skirt. And a weird cheek kiss. The vibes of this episode were all kinds of off although I appreciate the color vibe through Cheryl’s lipstick, skirt, and bow on the guitar case. She’s quite literally brought the Blossom presence into the Andrews home.

Blink and you might miss it. This scene was very brief but had big consequences leading to the end of Valerie and Archie to make room for Varchie. But, oh man. THAT SKIRT. One of my top Cheryl items, I love that skirt and it is paired later with one of my favorite outfits ever (hint: see my profile picture.) I always found it funny how this outfit is the exact opposite coloring of the one from the night before, a clear switch in attitude from sickly sweet to conniving. It’s more or less the same silhouette, even with a detailed shoulder, but turned on its head color wise. Fascinating. Her black spider brooch makes an appearance as well as this amazing embellished lace up choker that we will see in more detail in future episodes.

The Blossom Banquet. Oh man, Cheryl in an emerald green dress. I have words. First of all, Cheryl is wearing heavy red throughout the episode until this moment. Then nothing. There is heavy symbolism here in that Cheryl knows her parent’s motives are not pure and she feels uneasy under the Blossom name. Her stark contrast to her parents in this scene is illuminating but subtle. As for the dress, I think it is beautiful and refreshing to see her in another color!

Her hair is heavily pulled to one side with a crystal bobby pin, her bracelets and choker are sparkling in the snow and all pull together for an amazing wintery formal look. Her are earrings are fairly simple and don’t take away from her hair and choker. I love the cut of the dress as well and the slit that I will highlight in a moment. I’d like to come back to this dress in my analysis of 1x11 as well.

The lace up back is STUNNING and this entire screencap is just hauntingly gorgeous, holy shit. 

Okay, I spent a long ass time attempting to screencap her shoes and slit. I believe the shoes are black with some sort of wrapped ankle strap, it’s hard to tell but I love it all together regardless. 

Cheryl on the murder board, cute. 

And we end the episode in a place we are all too familiar, Cheryl in her bedroom in this black floral velvet robe. This time, she is not having an emotional girl talk with V but rather emotionally scribbling out Archie and Polly from the aforementioned weird family photo. Note, her makeup looks so cute here.

Yikes. Love her nails though and use of a red sharpie, lol.

I believe she might have on a black silk cami and shorts set because of the way she is sitting. Red spider brooch and black choker, check. Black fluffy heeled sandals, also check. Still love this vibe.

Hi, I’m emotional but fine. Mood. 

Outfit Total: 7! 

Brooch Count: 1 burgundy spider ( I think it is separate from the red, more on that later. 2 red spider. 2 black spider. Very spider heavy! So 5 in total.

Favorite Outfit: It’s a tie between green formal and red with black leather skirt.

Till next time. 

#choni #cherylblossom #cheryl #spider #riverdale #riverdalefashion #riverdalestyle #analysis #s1 #1x09

[ofieugogyshz]

Booth: Boogiepop Tarot

“I'm not sure I understand why you couldn't wear what you normally wear...”

“It's for the aesthetics, Mr. Champion. I'd expect you of all people to understand the importance of presentation!”

This exchange happened at one very visually appealing stall, between two people who were at work, setting it up in the hours before the festival opened to the public. The stall had a quaint, yet mystical atmosphere to it, a subtle otherworldliness to it. There were no skulls or symbols implicating something demonic or magical in nature. But the black, wine red, and purple color scheme, the layabout crystals and candles, the stars that hung from the tent poles which glittered in the day and glowed in the dark; fairy lights that would be visible at night, but during the day were hidden in the rafters, covered by flower chains and vines; the occasional witch's ladder hung in various spots, ending with bottles of herbs, powder, or glitter as a means to catch a wavering eye... All this had been an assortment of things that appealed to the one running the booth. They had desired something that gave a very mystical, almost magical vibe, but didn't buy directly into a gothic vibe or skirted the spring theme that they had to work with. Perhaps it had been a bit overdone, but it all added up to an intriguing and unusual display.

The person running the booth was a non-binary individual signed up under the name of “Boogiepop”. Naturally, this wasn't the actual Boogiepop. But the tarot reader who had set about organizing the booth certainly had taken it upon themselves to look the part.

They wore a long cloak that covered their entire body, hiding their heavyset form under shapeless navy blue. When visible, the inside of the cloak was lined with a nebulae pattern in a reddish hue. A long, stove-pipe shaped hat adorned their head. What looked like miniature knobs and trinkets littered the front of the hat, as it was held down by a chain across the crown. Brown hair was tucked under the hat, except for two strands that framed their face. From their ears dangled gold stars along gold chains of varying length; they wore a large wire ear cuff that had stars on it, beautiful and simple. This Boogiepop wore black lipstick that glittered in a mysterious way, adding to the intrigue that the individual hoped to bring.

Across their shoulders was a rather long belt that ended in a large yin-yang symbol in the middle, seeming to hold it up. It had a black and white zigzag pattern. Shorter belts, in a plain brown color, seemed to be worn as bracelets and anklets, though these were only visible when the cloak was thrown open, or a hand was reaching across to turn a card or position a crystal. Solid black nail polish coated their fingertips, a stark contrast to the shimmer and shine of the booth itself, and the rest of the adornments that the reader had added to their costume.

There was a certain image that this person had in mind for their stall's display, and they definitely strove to bring it to life.

“Besides,” they continued, as they reached into a box and pulled out various crystals and gems to adorn their tables and display, “I'm not always about pink and sparkly cheer! I mean, sure, this would have been the perfect opportunity to go ham on that with whatever I've got in my closet, but I don't have to!! There's nothing wrong with a little black now and then; spring sprouts from the dead of winter, the end of a beginning! Oh, don't give me that look,” they said, cutting themselves off in a huff as their husband stifled a laugh at their words while he helped make sure that the poles for the stall's covering were secure.

He stopped where he was working, covering his mouth with his fist as he chuckled at the overanalyzing ramble his wife went on, the attempt to make an excuse to wear that particular costume, but they had already noticed it and puffed out their cheeks in a pout.

“I'm sorry; you're just so cute when you ramble on like that.”

Their cheeks flushed red and they turned away sharply, quickly busying themselves with putting decorations down at another table.

Nearby, a Pikachu helped decorate. A small, traditional-styled witch's hat was on the Pikachu's head, as her long ears poked through the brim of the hat so as to keep it in place. The reader glanced up from their work to look at their Pikachu's progress. She ran across the front crying about happily as she helped place flowers and crystals down.

“Ahh! Pika, try not to put too many flowers down. I know it's a spring festival, but I want the gemstones to be noticeable, too...” The trainer watched as their Pikachu nodded, and sprinted away with a mouthful of the flowers it had just sat down, placing them gently back in a small bucket that housed many other flowers that were being used to decorate. The festival had supplied these, so as to help encourage the spring vibes for each of the people who had signed up for a stall.

When this stall's “Boogiepop” had heard about the festival, they had hurriedly signed themselves up as a vendor, completely ignoring the fact that part of the importance of the festival was for families and couples. ...Which was part of the reason why they had initially been drawn to the Spring Festival. But when they saw their niche interest listed among one of the potential booths that one could hold, their mind instantly changed gears as hyperfixation took hold. What went from a planned, simple date outing with their spouse instantly became a frenzied, excited need to make up a huge display and share something that they rarely got to share publicly. And now, they had roped their husband into helping them set up and keep them company between patrons.

But that was not an issue at all. The two did not get nearly enough time together recently, so any excuse would have sufficed. “Boogiepop” looked over at their husband, smiling as they remembered this.

When everything had been laid out, the last thing they did was put out the divination decks. Carefully, they set down five deck boxes of varying sizes on a table along the side of their reading table. They were spaced out a certain amount, as though to give each deck room for themselves. Three more decks were placed down on the much larger center table, which would be the working space for any potential clients. A large reading cloth covered the circular, center table. It showcased constellations across the night sky, naming each one that appeared. There was the casual adjustment of a nearby crystal, or some other trinket that added to the visual, aesthetic appeal of the whole booth.

Their husband watched as his wife picked up each deck individually, closing their eyes for a moment, whispering a few words before they put it back down and picked up the next deck. They had done this for each of the eight decks that they had brought. Though he didn't understand much about how tarot reading worked, or why his wife felt such a pull towards it, it didn't matter. He loved watching them focused on something. He loved the excitement that they got as everything started to come together during the time they had spent setting up together. He loved watching them.

Incense was lit as the festival attendees had begun their stroll inside the festival park. It was a very earthy, grounding blend that helped gave a sense of calm to any passersby that smelled it.

The tarot reader finally sat down at their center table. Tarot cards had been kept in their boxes for the time being, though the reader themselves longed to begin shuffling. Maybe just a single card, to get their mind focused and at ease...?

“You know, your costume doesn't seem very spring-like at all,” commented their husband, breaking the silence immediately.

They let out a sigh. It was much better to let their hyperfixation rest for the time being, so they wouldn't burn out early. They'd hate to have spent all this time and energy setting up, only to be unable to focus on a reading after an hour or two.

“Yeah, well,” they started, turning to look at their husband. “I'm surprised that you didn't come in uniform for once,” they said, pursing their lips in a mock-pout. They rested their elbow on the table as they spoke, putting their chin in their hand.

It was true. Their husband was normally seen in much more dramatic clothing, usually accompanied by a cape. Today, however, he had gone for something more simple. A black turtleneck shirt  with long sleeves, and khaki pants. “Boogiepop” had half expected their spouse to look no less jarring amongst festival goers than they did themselves in costume, as his typical outfit was iconic of his position, and only felt slightly dismayed that they were now the one overdressed. They scanned him up and down, from his spiked red hair all the way down to the shoes he wore, and back up, meeting his blue eyes.

“Are you cold-blooded or something?” they asked suddenly, a critical eye on his outfit. “It's the beginning of May. Aren't you hot in that?”

There was only a brief pause as their husband considered his response, looking down at what he wore.

“Well. If we were to ask your 'twelve-year-old self', apparently the answer would be yes.” He gave them a teasing grin, earning a huge eye roll and sputtering fluster from his wife.

“Oh. my. Fucking. God. – I can't. I can't even with you right now. – No, no. You know what?” they said, grabbing a deck like they were brandishing a weapon. They quickly rifled through the cards. When they found what they were looking for, they slammed the deck back down on the table, and held out the card to their lover.

“Just for that--! The Tower! Everything falls to ruins, because you just ruined it,” they declared, cheeks still flushed hot red from embarrassment.

--

Had the reader's booth caught the eye of any passersby, maybe they had heard part of this conversation. Perhaps they even watched as it occurred. Or maybe it was the playful teasing, the banter and fluster, that caught one's interest, and the surrounding booth, with all its decor, finished drawing them in.

Regardless of how one approached, there would be a Pikachu in a witchy hat to greet you cheerfully, running alongside you as it tried to bring you in. And the tarot reader and their husband would look up from whatever they were doing when they heard that Pikachu.

“Welcome,” began the tarot reader, as they gave their best monotone impression. “If it interests you, you may ask me any question you seek to know. You may find yourself learning information about yourselves that does not please; or perhaps it was information you already knew? Do you wish to go back to the beginning, to find the root of all causes? Or do you simply wish to watch the here and now? Feel free to seek, but do not be afraid of the answer--” and there was a pause, as though they were forgetting their lines.

“Ahh, forget it. I'm doing single card readings if you're interested. What do you wanna know? Please make sure to mind the rules posted by the entrance. Oh, and don't mind the husband, he's just here because he loves me,” they will say, as the two will look at each other and smile. “Tell me your question, because I know the cards will have a lot more to say to you if you don't.”

#selfship spring festival #self ship community #pokemon self ship #remaking the posts now that i'm at a heckkin computer so sorry #i'll do my best to tag posts with that if anyone wants to block it #i forgot what tags i was gonna put here LOL #writing

[cards-and-stars]

✧ How to Deal: Tarot for Everyday Life - Deck and book kit

Author/Artist: Sami Main ✧ Marisa de la Pena

Editor: Harper Collins

ISBN: 9780062662170

Link: https://www.urbanoutfitters.com/shop/how-to-deal-tarot-for-everyday-life-by-sami-main-book-tarot-card-set ✧ https://www.harpercollins.co.uk/9780062662170/how-to-deal-tarot-for-everyday-life/ ✧  https://circotarot.com

What drew me to this deck was the illustrations you can se on the box. There is something feral in that art style that resonated with me, especially because I was going through my second read of “Women Who Run With The Wolves”. It looks like the full kit (Tarot deck + guidebook) is exclusive to Urban Outfitters, while you can find the guidebook by itself on the publisher’s website. The deck also has its very own website. Now let’s have a look at this beauty!

✧ The Box

The kit comes in an A5 black and sturdy box with a holographic title on its front and left side, a bunch of different Tarot Card samples (3 on the front and 15 on the back) and a cute little heart shaped lock with a key on the right side. There is a magnet under that side of the box which allows to close it easily. There is also a message there “You’re about to become an expert at channeling the entire Cosmos”

The aesthetic of the guidebook is also present on the box through the little pastel icons you find all over (ice cream, laptop, envelope, flash light, travel mug, etc).

The back features the following intro:

“Can’t figure out what you should do about that messy friend situation? Wanna know how your crush feels about you? Need some guidance on dealing with your family? The cards are here to give you the answers you’ve been looking for. This box set brings together Sami Main’s fun, comprehensive Tarot guidebook and Marisa de la Pena’s gorgeously illustrated deck in one deluxe edition that will give you everything you need to make Tarot work for YOU.”

The inside of the box is black as well and features more of the pastel elements from the guidebook and reiterates “The cares are here to give you the answers you have been looking for!”

There’s also a little fabric band to allow you to take the deck out easily. Once you take it out, you find out the deck is also in a box. Again, it is sturdy and black the front features 3 eyes and the back the symbols of the 4 Minor Arcana suites, all in those cute pastel tones. Inside this box, two more messages await you: “Fate is fluid. It’s up to you to take matters into your own hands.” and “Embrace your intuition”. Another fabric band allows you to take the cards out with ease.

✧ The Cards

The deck this little kit comes with is the Circo Tarot by Marisa de la Pena, a gorgeous and colourful Kickstarter deck. Each card has been painted by the artist, I believe with mixed media (I can for sure see watercolour paint but I think I can also recognise gouache). Some cards do indeed refer to the theme of the circus, while others have a more latino influence (no offence meant here, I am simply not versed enough in those particular cultures to be able to precisely identify them). Most of them are easy to read and absolutely all of them are stunningly beautiful.

The cards are of a regular size but slightly thiner than your usual RWS cards. The back is a gradient of pastel tones and features 3 black eyes.

Little disclaimer, the artist is no longer making or selling divination tools. Her website is therefore a bit bare at the moment and the Instagram link is dead. If you wish to follow her work you can find her new Instagram account here.

✧ The Little White Book

This guidebook is far from being “little” :D It’s 232 pages of information about each card (with illustrations for all the Arcana), of Tarot exercises for practice and it features a total of 8 different spreads! 

It’s perfect for beginners as it not only provides you with the information but also engages you with exercises! Those exercises are also beneficial to more seasoned readers as they may shed some light on underlying aspects of the cards that may still be left undiscovered.

✧ The Tryptic

Strength has defeated the lion. In this illustration, there is no place for the kindness the character usually shows the beast, there is no mercy. I personally don’t really like when this card is illustrated to represent a total victory over our wilder instincts instead of incorporating them through understanding and respect. The character looks peaceful, as if this battle cost her no sweat. In fact, she has a Venusian allure to her (what with the lipstick, charming look, ear ring, foliage around her neck) that is a bit odd for this card. As if superficiality conquered our wild self. Or maybe has it been superficially defeated? Or is it that this Venusian illustration is meant to represent the social norms and therefore that the civilised has overcome the wild? Either way, this card has lost its balance which I find really makes or breaks Strength.

The Tower is pretty classic in the sense that we see a house, struck by lightning, catching on fire and being surrounded by smoke. The moon shines weakly in the background and looks like the water is threatening to flood the house but also to perhaps fertilise the dry lands the house was built on, suggesting that after the rain comes the rainbow. This card has significantly darker tones than most of the brighter coloured cards in the deck, but it still fits within it perfectly. The artist clearly masters her colour palette.

The Star is illustrated as a woman in a flow dress with a wavy pattern (most likely figuring the water The Star usually pours out of 2 vases) and a hat, adorned with 3 stars. Her hair is also wavy. There is a starry background behind her and 5 stars shine much brighter than others. The character looks peaceful and focused, as if in prayer, meditation or contemplation. It is a stark contrast with The Tower and that of course works quite well. The whole card is dominated by the colour blue, cooling the fire and distress we just encountered in The Tower.

✧ Conclusion

Pro

Beautiful deck with gorgeous illustrations.

Very complete guidebook, fully illustrated.

Fantastic set for beginners

Con

The guidebook and deck have very different aesthetics. They don’t really match. They are both great separately but together they clash a bit.

The card stock is quite thin.

Some cards are prettier than they are symbolical.

✧ Rating

✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✧✧✧

Thank you for reading and see you later, little MonStars!

#tarot #tarot review #tarot deck #tarot deck review #review #urban outfitters #sami main #how to deal tarot for everyday life #Marisa de la pena #circo tarot #cartomancy #divination #witchy #witch #witchcraft #brujeria

[thatlesbiannudistcult-stories]

Finding Goddess (Chapter 12)

Carol stood in front of the mirror clad in her full regalia, her heart beating a mile a minute. Gossamer threads poured down her form like sheets of precious snow, standing in stark contrast to the queenly plaits in her ebony hair. Her lips gleamed a brilliant red from her lipstick, and her eyes emitted a violet aura upon her perfect milky skin thanks to the luxurious eye shadow she had just applied. Dazzling stars of blue dangled daintily from her ears, and a lovely sapphire brooch in the shape of a jay clung preciously to her neck. A light fragrance of lilac wafted off her form from the gentle perfume she had put on barely an hour ago, and her feet clicked in the delicate white heels that made it impossible for her to stand in a way that couldn't be described as majestic. Without a doubt, this was the most beautiful she had ever looked.

And yet...she didn't feel beautiful. Every time she looked in the mirror, something always seemed off. A ruffle where there shouldn't have been, an out-of-place hair, a jewel hanging at a crooked angle, a smudge of something on her face. All problems, all imperfections that marred her looks. And no matter what she nipped, no matter what she tucked, no matter what she wiped or tied or brushed away, it seemed like another flaw would take its place and capture her attention. This wouldn't do at all! She had to look her absolute best. No, she had to look better than she ever had in her entire life, and not just for herself. For this was not just any day. This was a very special day. This was the day when Caroline Connors would become a wife. "You can't keep putting this off any longer," said one of her bridesmaids. Carol turned to look behind her and saw that it was Henrietta. "Everyone's waiting for you." "Yeah," said the other bridesmaid, Katherine, who took this moment to grab Carol by the arm. "C'mon, Mommy. You keep stalling like this and you'll miss your own wedding!" "But, but," Carol stammered as the two women dragged her away from the mirror, "I'm not properly dressed for this! I have to look absolutely perfect and I...don't yet." "Hmmm, you're right on that count," said Henrietta as she took a moment to eye Carol up and down. "You really aren't looking your best." "And you're definitely not properly dressed!" quipped Katherine. "Honestly, Mommy, it's like you didn't even bother at all!" "But...but I've been in here for hours!" said Carol, feeling her heart drop into her stomach. "I put on my best makeup for this, put on my best shoes, made sure my dress was pristine! I even spent all yesterday in the spa just to have perfect skin! How could I possibly—" "Exactly!" said Katherine as she gave Carol's gown a disdainful tug. "You've got all that crap on!" "We all know what you look best in," said Henrietta. "And we all know what your special someone wants to see you in." Carol blinked in confusion. What her special someone wanted to see her in? What did they mean by— RRRRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIP! A stretch of her dress was torn off, starting from the shoulder and extending down to her hip. And her black bridesmaid was the one holding the fabric. "Katy!" she cried. "Why did you—" RRRRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIP! Another stretch of fabric was ripped off from the other side, tearing off a sizable chunk of the skirt and exposing her leg. "Henri!" More dress was ripped off, this time from her back. Then from her other shoulder. And then from her leg. Soon, the air was filled with a cacophony of torn silk screeching all around her. "WHAT ARE YOU TWO DOING?" Carol screamed as more and more of her body was shorn of clothing and exposed to the air. The...cool, gentle, sweet-feeling air. It cascaded down her now bare shoulders, poured onto her back, pooled into her navel, and seeped between her thighs. Soon, the only thing between Carol and the rest of the world was her lacy white bra and panties. "Putting you in your best dress," answered Henrietta. "The one we all want you to be in," continued Katy. "The one you are meant to be in," they both said in unison. "Meant...to be in?" said Carol, who was starting to feel dizzy. "You can't possibly mean..." There was a tug on her bra strap. A pop in the waistband of her panties. Carol could only watch as they both fluttered away from her and onto the floor, joining the pile of all that remained of her now ruined wedding dress. She was naked now. Everything about her was bare. Her neck, her shoulders, her breasts, her stomach, her butt. Even her heels had been destroyed in the confusion, leaving her completely barefoot. There was not a thing left to cover her! "They're waiting," said Henrietta, looping her arm around Carol's. "She's waiting," added Katherine as she took Carol's other arm, keeping the bride from escaping. "Who? Who's waiting?" said Carol as the two bridesmaids dragged her out of the room and into the corridor, towards a set of formidable-looking double doors. "You know exactly who, Mommy" said Katy with a warm smile. "The one you are destined for," said Henrietta. "She's always been with you." "But...but I can't see her...like this," murmured the naked woman, who was finding it harder to think straight. "Of course you can," said Katy. "This is the only way you can see her." "I don't...under..." The doors opened, seemingly of their own accord. Behind them, Carol found herself staring at a chapel overlooking rows upon rows of seats where many eager guests awaited. Greeting her on either side were her two daughters, Mindy and Erin, dressed in identical blue garbs that made them nigh impossible to tell apart for anyone who hadn't birthed them. "You look wonderful, Mom," said Mindy as she gave her mother an affectionate hug, completely unconcerned about her nudity. "I knew you could do this," said Erin as she embraced her in turn. Together, the four dragged the naked woman to the altar, where there awaited another equally naked woman. Carol went stiff the moment her eyes fell upon her. The tanned skin, the brilliant fiery mane, the distinctive symbol tattooed on her Venusian mons...it could only be... "Ce-Celeste?" Carol uttered, totally at a loss for words. "Yes, it is I, my childe," said the priestess in a tone that sounded like a soothing whisper, but carried with it a resounding echo. "Please, come closer. The time is fast approaching." "Time? Time for what?" stammered Carol. She still didn't know what was going on. Nothing made sense. No one was telling her anything. Wasn't she supposed to get married? She didn't even know anymore. "You know what it is," said Celeste. "You've always known. You've been waiting your whole life for this. You've been waiting your whole life for Her. And She has been waiting for you." "Who? Who is..." The double doors opened again. Light flooded into the chapel. It swallowed everyone, the attendants, Carol's bridesmaids, her daughters, the priestess, and Carol herself. She couldn't see anything, everything was just a haze of imperceptible whiteness. But she didn't need to see. For everything had become clear now. Everything made sense. Carol knew what she needed to do, what she always needed to do, what she was always destined for. It was only the most natural thing, as natural as breathing, no, more natural than that. Warm arms embraced her. Warm breasts engulfed her. Warm lips kissed her. *** Carol awoke with a sudden jolt. That dream! She was in...she was getting...everyone was...she was naked...and she...and she...! She blinked and turned her head around stiffly, as if it was on a swivel. She gazed at her surroundings. This was...this was a bedroom. This was her bedroom. In her apartment. In the great city of Beringall. And she was most definitely not... Carol blinked again. What was she most definitely not doing? She had clearly been not doing something meaningful, because whatever it was, it was making her feel...making her feel...warm? Hopeful? Like everything was good, and that everything would be alright? What could she have possibly dreamt to feel that? She squeezed her eyes shut, tried to remember the dream she had, tried to dredge up any fleeting memory she could muster that could help her recall it. She found nothing. "Figures," she groaned. "Just another dream to wake up to and forget. Like all the others." Carol sighed. Maybe if she went back to sleep, it would pick up where she left off. That seemed worth a shot. Stealing a glance at her clock radio to see if she had any time, the mother couldn't help but groan again. There was only one minute to go before the alarm was set to go off. There would be no more dreams for her today. "Goddess damn it." As she clicked the device off to keep her ears clean of the infernal country music that was mere seconds away from playing, Carol heard a murmur to her side and felt something shift next to her. Looking down, she saw the sleeping face of her younger girlfriend, Katherine, looking precious as she always did in her slumber. Just like a big, overgrown baby, Carol couldn't help but think with an amused grin. At least seeing her like this made waking up prematurely a little worthwhile. Carol was half-tempted and let her faux daughter sleep in a little bit, but she knew that just wouldn't do. They both had work today after all. "Hey, baby, it's time to wake up," she said giving her girlfriend a gentle shake. It didn't work. Katherine only mumbled a few garbled syllables and rolled away, determined to stay in whatever nice dream she was having. This got a wicked smirk out of Carol. "Okay, girl, you asked for it!" she snickered, flipping the blanket off and exposing the younger woman's naked body to her. So young, so slender, the sight of it always elicited a lick of Carol's lips, especially those cute little tits of hers that made her think of sweet melted chocolate. But it wasn't Katy's boobs that had the nudist's attention now; it was her trim stomach, moving slowly up and down with her breathing, showing off just off  a hint of the sexy girl abs she was packing in it. "THBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBB!" That woke her up immediately. "AHHH! Mommy! What are you—" "THBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBB!" "AHHH! Stop it, Mommy! Ah-hahahaha!" "Are you ready to wake up now?" "Yes! Yes! I'm ready to—" "THBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBB!" "AHHH-HAHAHAHAHAHA!" It never failed. If a shake didn't wake Katy up, if a thunderstorm didn't wake her up, if the coming of the Apocalypse didn't wake her up, then a few good old-fashioned belly raspberries and a lot of tickling would do the trick. The younger girl laughed, kicked, and squirmed uncontrollably in desperation as she tried to escape her torture, but it was all in vain. With Carol's superior strength and her hands wedged firmly into her armpits, there was nothing Katy could do; she was left thoroughly at the mercy of her dear sweet mommy! "Okay! I give! I gi-hi-hi-hi-hiiiiive!" Katherine gasped. "Just, hahahahaha, stop, hahahahaha, stop, hahahahah, STAAA-HAHAHAHAHAAAAHHHHHP!" "Okay, you earned it," giggled Carol as she mercifully withdrew her hands to end her lover's gleeful torment, though not before giving her a playful kiss on the lips. "C'mon, we both gotta get ready for work. Wouldn't want you to get fired, homeless, and forced to move back in with your parent, now would you?" "Oooooh, I'd love to move back in with my Mommy," laughed Katherine as she sat up to hug Carol from behind and give her an eager nibble on the neck. "No, I meant...ah, I guess I walked into that one. C'mon, let's go shower." After cleaning and drying themselves off in the shower, the two women exited the bathroom, Katy wrapped up in a towel, and Carol content to wander around au natural as usual. Upon stepping into the kitchen where she intended to fix up a quick cup of coffee and breakfast, Carol couldn't help but look around with a feeling of bewilderment. "What the hell happened in here?" The couch in the living room was overturned, assorted chairs were scattered all over the floor on their sides, cups, papers and other odds and ends rolled around haphazardly, and she couldn't help but notice that some things looked like they had accrued some new stains. "Oh, yeah, about that," said Katy, "we got really wild last night and went through this whole apartment like a tornado in a trailer park. First we did it on the couch. Then on the kitchen table, then on the counter, then against the fridge, then against the door, and then..." "I...barely even remember," said Carol. "Yeah, it was really fast. Faster than usual anyway. You were like a wild animal, Mommy! I thought you were wild before, but last night was...it was like something in you just blew up! It was amazing! Made me wonder what you would have done to me in the gym yesterday if you hadn't caught yourself." At her words, a realization of horror suddenly dawned over Carol. She darted her gaze to the door leading to her daughters' room, eyes wide with panic. "Oh shit! Katy we didn't actually do it in there, did we?" "Um...I can't say. Like I said, we were all over the place. After you finished screwing me in one area, you would just scoop me up and carry me to another area and..." Carol didn't wait for her to finish. She just about broke the sound barrier rushing to her girls' room and flung the door open almost as fast, kicking up a breeze that in normal circumstances would have felt amazing on her completely naked body. She didn't have time to appreciate the feeling this time though. If she had been so careless as to actually have sex in Mindy and Erin's space, she'd never forgive herself. And most likely, neither would they! Fortunately, it looked like that wasn't the case at all. The bunk beds were still neatly made, the desks were still in one piece, the TV was still standing, the controllers for the connected game console were lying right where the girls left them...everything was untouched and exactly where they were supposed to be. "Phew, that's a relief," she said, letting out a deep breath of air. "Wouldn't want to traumatize my kids." "You know, I can understand not wanting to violate their personal space," said Katherine, "but don't you think it's melodramatic to say that having sex in their room would traumatize them?" "Not everyone is like you, Katy," said Carol as she shut the door. "Most children don't have sexual fantasies about their mothers!" "Not according to Freud," said Katherine in a wistful tone. "But...that's not what I mean. What I mean is they're not going to be scarred for life if you have sex in their room. Okay, maybe they'd get a little angry, maybe they'd get a little grossed out, but they wouldn't get traumatized! Mom, you need to stop being so self-conscious around them!" "Well I can't help it," said Carol. "They're my babies, no matter how big they get. It's my job to make sure they live as comfortably as possible. Even if..." she looked down at her body, completely uncovered, completely exposed, completely...perfect in all its raw nakedness, and let out a sad sigh. "Even if I can't." Katherine recognized that look and tone in her older lover well enough, and it made her sigh as well. "Mom, you shouldn't have to keep this side of you a secret from them forever." "I've been doing it for almost 18 years," said Carol. "I can do it a little longer." "Well...whatever!" Katherine just shrugged. It was too early in the morning to have this kind of talk with her. One day, she and Henrietta would have to team up to convince their mutual lover to be more open about her nudism. But that was a discussion to have in another time and another place. Possibly involving that religion she had been going on about yesterday. "If you're really that concerned about what doing it in their room will have on them, I doubt doing it everywhere else is going to be any better." "Oh Goddess, you're right!" cried Carol as she looked around in horror at the state of her apartment. "They can't see the house like this! I have to clean it all up!" Already she began scurrying around the apartment, righting and picking up every little object she could find lying on the floor. "Does this go here? Is this supposed to go there? I don't even remember where this was! Oh Goddess, I can still smell that over here! How am I going to wash this out?" "Calm down, Mommy, calm down!" said Katherine as she grabbed her naked fake mother from behind to get her to stop. "They're not home yet, you don't need to worry about cleaning up now. Don't your daughters still have a few days left?" "You're...you're right," said Carol with a relenting sigh. "I...I don't know what came over me." "The same thing that always comes over you whenever you start fretting about your girls," muttered Katherine. She changed her tune when she began to explore her lover's body with her hands, sliding them over Carol's breasts and giving each orb a tender squeeze. "When right now, the only girl you should be fretting over is me." Carol shut her eyes and leaned back as the black girl massaged her breasts. Goddess, that felt so good right now. "And what would you ask of me, sweetie?" "Well, I could use some food for one. All that sex last night really took a lot out of me!"

#carol #Finding goddess