#i mean if a friend asks me to go on vacation i cannot afford to go

[ohbutwheresyourheart]

literally what is even the point of trying

[transmalewife]

does anyone have any leftist reading on the subject of tourism to recommend? Specifically about how travel for fun, education, sport, friendship or whatever might work in a communist or anarchist or socialist society. Because like yeah, open borders or no borders whatever, cool. But that usually only gets discussed in the context of permanent immigration

Idk I guess I just find it hard to imagine how it could be organized since where I live the most obvious ways capitalism has made things worse over my lifetime have all happened because of and through the lens of tourism. Rents literally doubling over the last five years, while the standard of living falls because apartments are bought, split into tiny pieces and renovated to accomodate a couple days of living at most. The specific kind of gentrification that is NOT being pushed out by richer people moving in permanently, who might cause more expensive shops and services to replace the affordable ones, but do still need the basic necessities everyone does to live. Instead, all hairdressers, repair shops, clothing stores (especially thrift shops), pharmacies, post offices etc etc close and are replaced by luxury boutiques, clubs and stores whre you can only buy snacks, alcohol and microwave meals. Restaurants and bars hiking up prices because most of their clients come from places with stronger currencies etc etc.

At the same time though I believe travel is a crucial part of a fulfilling life for most if not all people. I believe people have the right to see and appreciate the culture and history of other places and also like... maybe go somewhere warmer and lay on the beach sometimes, even if they prefer to live and work somewhere colder. Or go skiing even if they chose to live somewhere warm and without mountains. Or even just like... vacation in a big city if they live in the countryside and vice versa. Or pop over to another continent to visit an online friend maybe. Although obviously intercontinental travel would have to be hugely limited until and unless we find ways to do it that don't destroy our planet.

At the same time some precautions do have to be taken to protect historical and especially sacred sites. Like, I don't think endless crowds should be allowed to trample through historical buildings and also open borders obviously doesn't mean white tourists get to go camping on Uluru. But on some level I do believe everyone who wants to should get to see Venice at least once in their life. But that's probably not feasible so like... who gets to decide? On what merit? Are historians, artists, journalists privileged? Or should it be a lottery?

Also I think there's a significant amount of tourism that would simply die out if going to that place wasn't a status symbol. Like you cannot convince me that if you spend 2 weeks by the pool in an enclosed luxury resort it makes a difference that it's on Hawaii rather than like... in florida. And then theres places like the Hamptons. What the fuck is the point of the Hamptons, other than bragging rights?

Obviously I know none of this is even remotely the main pressing issue to solve about a potential communist society, but then again, that's why I'm asking for reading materials, because it so rarely gets discussed. I mean I bet Marx wrote about it, which, great, point me to the relevant fragments please and I'll have a look but also this is an issue where a modern perspective would be really important. I don't think Marx, for all his wisdom, really has a solution to "what are the ethics of taking an 8 hour flight to visit a tumblr mutual".

Or maybe this whole thing is me being cynical and this is another place where things would sort of just regulate themselves. Anyway. Send me reading recs and let's very unscientifically try to check if it could work. Do try to be honest, like I've been several times as a kid and I would still go again in a heartbeat.

btw the goal of the poll is to get some kind of percentage that can be compared with the world population and how many tourists venice can support per year, though I obviously know tumblr skews mainly american and european

[unrequited-words]

6/19/24

Juneteeth

What pisses me off more than fucking ANYTHING . . .

When you go on social media, and all you've ever wanted in your life is to be included. This has to deal with his stepmom. She posted pictures of going to a water park/amusement park with all of the kids/cousins. I know we can't be invited to everything and I only get so much PTO off but they never fucking ASK us.

I received an email from work stating that the time I asked off is denied so I can do one of two things. I can wake up, work 3 hours and then go and get my step kids and spend 7 hours on the fucking road and have Sunday off to recuperate.

OR

Say, FUCK IT you have to drive, pick up your kids with the child we share while I work.

I should be getting more PTO in the next 2 weeks when I get paid again to replenish the time I have now off or have them take the points I received everyday by clocking in which is 200 I'm covered either way but I'm just like

WHAT.THE.FUCK.

He's recently been gaming with his best friend while I work and it's actually starting to really and I mean really piss me off. It's hard to hear customer at full volume with headphones trying to understand their order and how I can help them while he's gaming with his buddy and talking pretty loudly etc.

I had to go on mute today to shush him to basically say shut the fuck up and the weak ass bitch that I am apologized after and said sorry when I'm the only one working and the agreement was you watch our kid while I support family of five when sometimes it's usually a family of three.

It's really difficult when my daughter is almost four likes to scream and dance and jump when if I worked in the office it would be harder if I worked IN the office... I would never see my partner or my kid because I would spend the time commuting on a damn train and somehow walking to work and losing sleep so it's better that I work from home but working from home currently sucks and I shouldn't have to babysit a grown ass man and say could you tone it down a bit... So I can you I know, idk... maybe work?

What am I doing now? I am making dinner again. I might have another beer maybe I'm tired of having terrible and I mean terrible sleep

I'm tired that everything lies on my shoulders... bills, chores, dishes and laundry ... I asked him to vacuum last night which he was glad to do and he threw out his back and I felt like garbage because I know he's healing and he hurts... He threw out his back .. but I mean isn't that kind of in the job title of stay at home dad?

Some days, feel like I have another toddler. As soon as I get on break I ask him what can I do for you? What do you need? I also also make sure my kid is taken care of I also make sure she's fed, if she needs to go potty etc

I have zero and I mean zero FUCKING mom friends.

I have no female mom friends and this feels so and I mean so

FUCKING LONELY

I make too much money for state insurance... I cannot afford to go to the marketplace to insure myself and my kid when I'm not barely making rent were in a comfortable spot because of the dividend I got from work, and taxes but I also just spent $1,000 on parts for the car and his truck

When I want something like to get my feet done or to get my eyebrows done because he drives everywhere and I don't have a license it's hard for him and inconveniences him for. Aan hr or so for me ... I look like a dude

I'll probably delete this later because I have literally no one to bitch to

FUCK I NEED A VACATION and to be included

SO.BAD.

[nyctophile-me]

intro post:

(dividers by the incredible @saradika)

★nyc ★(she/her) ★18 ★bookworm ★love enthusiast

✰got lovesick all over my bed✰

hello hello hello! welcome to my little corner of the internet on this hell site (said with all the love i swear <33). this blog is essentially a dumping ground for all my scattered thoughts and rambles, along with things I find relatable. well, it's mostly about things i find relatable tbh. i'm very sentimental and a little bit mentally unstable so.. okay who am i kidding? very mentally unstable so some breakdowns might be in order. also f**k jkr!!

➟ basic info : •asian •18 •bilingual •funny (please let me have this) •scorpio (still skeptical with my belief) •"love" lover •adhd haver(?) •anxious always •oversharer •flirt •coffee addict •eldest daughter •gifted kid burnout •trying to be a woman in STEM •overthinker (just give me a degree in that atp) •sarcastic af •you'll be surprised to know how much stuff i have not watched •will read anything except non-fiction •queer •cannot deal with confrontation •may oftentimes make inappropriate jokes •procrastinator (another degree right there) •easy to please •gets obsessed with things pretty easily •will shit talk with you all you want •overanalyser •pinch of grammar nazi sometimes •pathological people pleaser who doesn't want anyone to see her •may get over shit quite fast •has a new crush everyday •15 wives and counting •if we're mutuals we're besties already ➟ interests : •people •music •books •playing guitar •making people listen to songs i like •ranting about anything and everything •making my own theories about stuff •character analysis •poetry •classics especially •rewatching the same four shows over and over again •keysmashing •eating food •making playlists •scrolling on pinterest/tumblr •sleeping •researching random shit on the internet •maths •computer science •hating physics (i'm sorry it sucks) •plotting revenge (which i'll never be following through with) •spending a tonne of my time looking at expensive aesthetic clothes that i can never afford •looking at pictures of renee rapp and asking them (read: her) to marry me over and over •collecting wives (okay i'm sorry wifeys that sounds very objectifying ilysm) •going over conversations that have already happened in my head and making myself sound better •yearning ➟stuff i love : »music •taylor swift •maisie peters •lana del rey •gracie abrams •niall horan •julien baker •phoebe bridgers •lucy dacus •boygenius •the 1975 •olivia rodrigo •renee rapp •arctic monkeys •lizzy mcalpine •hozier •chappell roan •ed sheeran •the neighbourhood •cigarettes after sex •billie eilish •the national •bon iver •sabrina carpenter •girl in red •lorde •ariana grande •5 seconds of summer •conan gray •ricky montgomery •the lumineers •bleachers •shreya ghoshal •arijit singh •ar rahman •shankar-ehsaan-loy •mohit chauhan •sanam •md rafi •kishore kumar •lata mangeshkar •asha bhosle •mukesh •pankaj udhas •jagjit singh •pritam »books •book lovers •beach read •happy place •people we meet on vacation •the picture of dorian gray •pride and prejudice •emma •sense and sensibility •wuthering heights •the diary of a young girl •the murder of roger ackroyd •and then there were none •the fault in our stars •i fell in love with hope •the harry potter series •the seven husbands of evelyn hugo •heartstopper •boyfriend material •murder on the orient express •the mysterious affair at styles •the kiss quotient etc. etc. (can you tell i have a versatile taste? also, emily henry is my auto-buy author and agatha christie is the queen of crime. hercule poirot is the better detective. argue with the wall pls.) »movies/shows •brooklyn nine-nine •friends •never have i ever •love, victor •fleabag •dead poets society •the theory of everything •bridgerton •poor things •derry girls •barbie •la la land •harry potter movies •red, white and royal blue •enola holmes •mean girls •legally blonde •the princess diaries •emma •pride and prejudice •heartstopper •little women •k3g •any srk movie basically •badhai do •shubh mangal zyada savdhan etc. etc. ➟DNI - racists, ableists, ED-promoting blogs, pedophiles, people younger than 13, empty/untitled blogs (y'all might be bots idk), jkr supporters/anyone affiliated with jkr, haters, zoophiles, anti-palestinians, misogynists/misandrists, fatphobes, homophobic people, transphobes, xenophobes etc. and anyone else who fits into that majority!!

(thankyou for reading all of that, can't believe i wrote it <33)

[jokertrap-ran]

[スタオケ] La Corda d'Oro Starlight Orchestra Main Story Chapter 1-7 Translation

*Starlight Orchestra Masterlist *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Main story tag will be #Main Starlight

Ginga: Mmhm. Looking good. You guys are getting better!

Kazuma: You are all practicing out here today?

⊳ Choice: Ask him about what he thinks of the performance

Kazuma: You’ve got guts. Or maybe you have too much confidence.

⊳ Choice: Don’t ask him about what he thinks of the performance

Kazuma: Why are you so fidgety? If you’ve got something to say, then out with it.

Kazuma: Frankly speaking, your performance is absolutely hopeless.

Kazama: Your tunes are all out of sync with each other; so much that it hurts to hear. I can’t believe that all of you are so bold to be performing out in the open so brazenly.

Kazuma: You’re far from perfecting anything. In fact, I don’t so much as see a prospect in any of you.

Tomoharu: Are you okay, senpai? Stand strong.

Ginga: Jesus. Did you come here just to say such ill-thought words? You’re only going to wear yourself out at this rate. C’mon~ you ought to relax a little.

Kazuma: Unfortunately, I’m not as free as a certain someone here who can afford that luxury.

Kazuma: I only came here to confirm something with all of you.

Kazuma: Have any of you had a mock performance rehearsal in the Auditorium? I assume none of you had.

Kazuma: I’ve booked a slot at 4.30 PM, so you should all go check it out.

Kazuma: I’m simply carrying out my duties as Starlight Orchestra’s Stage Master.

Kazuma: Although, I suppose I’ll just have to weather this role for another half a month before I’m rid of these duties.

Kazuma: The chairman hates wasting his effort and resources more than anything else, after all.

Kazuma: And that’s all I came here to say. Period. Now, if you’ll excuse me.

Ginga: He has turned into quite the frightening force with way too much to say… or rather, he has become a hundred times mouthier than before…

☆ ━━━━━━━ ∘◦♬◦∘ ━━━━━━━ ☆

Tomoharu: Whoa… Now that I’m really looking at it, the Auditorium’s pretty big. I haven’t been here since the day of the entrance ceremony…

Sakuya: Let’s go to the 2nd floor. I don’t want to face whatever shade the Orchestra Club has to throw at us if we accidentally disturb them.

Tomoharu: Huh, they’re amazing… So this is the Orchestra Club…

☆ ━━━━━━━ ∘◦♬◦∘ ━━━━━━━ ☆

Hayate: Horns! Kakizaki, your timing is late!

Kakizaki: N-Noted!

Hayate: Clarinets! You can stand out a little more compared to the others.

Hayate: And, Viola! Kabayama, your bow work is getting increasingly rougher. How many times do I have to repeat this?

Kabeyama: ……

Ginga: Sheesh… The Orchestra Club must have it hard, considering their demon commander.

Hayate: Let’s start again. The last 8 bars.

Hayate: Yes, this is so much better than before. Now, from the beginning!

☆ ━━━━━━━ ∘◦♬◦∘ ━━━━━━━ ☆

Hatate: …Well, the only thing I’ll give him credit for is his pride.

Ginga: You mean, Ryuzaki? He was a member of last year’s Starlight Orchestra.

Ginga: He did get invited to join Glanz back when the Starlight Orchestra was destroyed.

Sakuya: Huh? Then, why…

☆ ━━━━━━━ ∘◦♬◦∘ ━━━━━━━ ☆

Hayate: I refuse.

Hayate: It might be a good offer and all, but I cannot forgive someone like you, who can destroy other Orchestras without batting an eye.

Hayate: I am not so far gone that I am willing to betray my friends just so that I can play alongside you.

☆ ━━━━━━━ ∘◦♬◦∘ ━━━━━━━ ☆

Ginga: Or so, he said. And that’s how he swiftly and curtly rejected their invitation~ It created a big hoo-ha back then, but you gotta give a man his credit~

Tomoharu: Ohh? That does sound like something he’d do…

Ginga: What, you knew about him?

Tomoharu: We were in the same Junior Orchestra when we were both kids.

Tomoharu: It was an Orchestra formed by kids from various places during summer vacation, and we were headed to Nagano for a training camp.

Sakuya: If you’d done something like that in the past, then… What was that performance earlier?

Tomoharu: Haha. Well, I haven’t taken up a Cello ever since I got here.

Tomoharu: But it’s all water under the bridge now, isn’t it? I’m already getting my muscle memory back.

Tomoharu: Still, he hasn’t changed at all… He used to be just as unfair, and just as hated by others, in the past. He was super-duper scary too.

Tomoharu: I’m sure things will take an interesting turn if he joins the Starlight Orchestra.

⊳ Choice: You’re right.

Tomoharu: I know, right? I knew you’d agree.

Sakuya: I can’t help but feel like that’ll only be sowing the seeds of disaster…

⊳ Choice: I doubt that’ll happen.

Sakuya: Obviously, it won’t happen. He hasn’t got the time to spare playing along with “general ed make-believe”.

Tomoharu: Well, maybe not now…

Ginga: …Oh? It’s about time for our turn. Alright, now’s our time to rehearse!

Sakuya: Let’s get on with it so that we can all get home.

☆ ━━━━━━━ ∘◦♬Main Starlight♬◦∘ ━━━━━━━ ☆

Previous Part: (Chapter 1-6) Next Part: (Chapter 1-8)

[testosterone-vape]

It’s been a hot minute haha

Here’s some updates and also thoughts bc there’s too many in my brains

Started working at dunks on Thursday and it was so mind numbingly boring…I like to think I’m smart and competent, but when I’m the only one that is on my FIRST DAY and I’m able to do literally everything with minimal assistance and there’s not a lot to do it gets so boring! I’m only working evenings and nights so it’s literally gonna be like that every single shift and I almost drove away on my second day…so I’ve decided I need a second job so I don’t go insane with boredom

I also don’t get paid until this coming Friday which is so cool and fun…I love having $1.06 in my entire bank account! It’s really cool that I literally cannot afford food or gas or put anything towards my savings

I also really want to start putting some money in my savings because I want to be able to move to Japan in like 2 years, so I want to be able to financially support myself and be able to buy a house and afford to furnish it and buy groceries with a cushion to be able to explore the country and visit a bunch of cool places…

Also hung out with someone I’m not sure if I want to be around as much anymore…which is honestly so sad cause he and I used to hang out almost every day and we were best friends…but after that era ended he started making me feel shitty while we hung out and saying off handed things that were mean and stopped considering my feelings and treating me like I mattered…so I started matching his energy and after about a week he asked if he was still my best friend…love when actions speak volumes…

Also my therapist is on vacation for 2 weeks so lots of posts will be occurring for the foreseeable future

I should clean my car today ughhhh

Later Xoxo 💋

[girltomboy]

MY bf apparently cannot take any paid leave yet because he's been at his workplace for less than 6 months, which means our vacation is under a big question mark this year...... well, HIS vacation, because I'm not really about to have been working a year without a vacation, sorry.......sooo sorry not sorry though 🤪 though I am afraid to vacation alone. I don't think my country is very solo-trip friendly, especially when you're a woman. But I can't afford to go elsewhere, and it would be last minute planning anyway. It drives me NUTS that this is just. Normal. Like, having to work 6+ months at a workplace before the employer decides you deserve to have some time off. He works 14 hours shifts for 2 days every 2 days too, so he doesn't even have legal holidays or weekends off AND isn't EVEN allowed to SIT DOWN!! That's just fucking insane sorry I can't fault the employees for putting up with this cause everyone's gotta eat but just the principle like just the mere simple fact that this happens and no one bats an eye. Is making me rabid. Vacation plans ruined aside. And my best friend is in the same situation of not being able to go on holiday except she's been working at her desk job for like 2 years. It's even more infuriating that her employer decided she should take all of her days off in December last year. Like imagine your employer deciding when you take your vacation?? I'd shit in my chair and leave.

Anyway topic change: lately I've been going crazy over Fia, like I can't stop thinking about her all the time, and especially wondering how she's doing, how life has been treating her. I feel it's kind of unhealthy and like borderline a creepy obsession that only I know about, but I don't want to let go of her, the memory of her is such a mental crutch to me. I realized Saturn transited her Moon maybe a couple weeks or so back, and I pulled a card for the very broad and general question "How is she?". And the card was The Tower 😭 and ik the Tower isn't always automatically bad or dangerous, but it has potential to be, and anyway it represents change and upheaval and I got a bit sad/scared for her. I just hope she has a good and full support system, regardless of whatever has been going on, good or bad. I always wonder this, trying to picture her surrounded by people who love her and care about her, trying to picture her receiving that love and care. I think it's hard to picture her giving it back because I've never seen her do that, but it's easy to picture the former because I loved her for so long. Sometimes I idealize her to such an extent that it feels surreal for such a human to exist on earth, she turns fragile and tender in my vision, like a single touch would hurt her, and the urge to protect her grows even more intense, and brings with it the frustration of being incapable of doing so. It's bizarre, this has happened with almost all of my obsessions over time. I think she's my longest lasting one. OH and I was also thinking about her like fear? Of being the subject of gossip, or being talked about in Facebook groups of students and such. I do have a memory of her asking something like that, and even though she was reassured she still seemed so anxious about it. Probably why she stays off social media. And yet it was her coworker who was overheard gossiping about her irl... by my friend, who said he called her crazy. 😑 Idk, just some thoughts that kind of add to my theory of her being a Gemini rising with Pisces moon in the 10th house. I've also been watching Breaking Bad with my bf (we finished it yesterday!! He loved it and so did I, rewatching it as an adult has been such a good decision and so wild. It really is one of the best TV shows ever made) and Bryan Cranston's mannerisms, facial expressions, gestures (ofc not limited to his Breaking Bad role, I was also noticing this in Malcolm in the Middle) are so similar to hers I almost thought my bf would recognize some of them, and his "exposure" to Fia was much shorter-lived than mine, and through a screen. And he's a Gemini rising!

[elysianslove]

eHm can you pls write some fluffy iwaizumi mini hcs?

can i ever,,, ugh yes. suna’s version here! 

↬ when the two of you first started dating, iwaizumi didn’t kiss you for a very long time. at first it seemed like he was just hesitant, or being respectful, trying to let you set the pace for intimacy instead. he admitted later to you, though, that he hadn’t had his first kiss yet, and it wasn’t that he wasn’t sure about sharing it with you, it was more that he was so sure that he wanted you to be his first that he couldn’t afford any mess up. he was shy. to his relief, you didn’t rush him at all, and instead found different ways to show your affection to him. 

↬ which leads to my point of iwaizumi adoring cheek kisses. for a good couple of months, you still hadn’t shared your first kiss, so you resorted to similar displays of affection, like cheek kisses. he found himself so comfortable with the feel of you reaching up, leaning on his shoulder with both hands as you press a kiss to his cheek. it’s his favorite public display of affection. because of its significance (in relation to your respect towards him, and the fact that you’d gone out of your way to find different ways to show your affection), cheek kisses hold a special place in his heart. nothing makes his heart beat as fast as when you grab his jaw in a fit of happiness and press a long, wet kiss on his cheek. against all odds, it makes him smile a smile unlike any other, and the blush that taints his cheeks and spreads along his nose and to the tips of his ears is a gift on its own. 

↬ wait that reminds me!! iwaizumi cannot lie, like whatsoever. if it’s very, very necessary, like to protect his friends or to cover for them or to protect a surprise planned, then maybe. but otherwise, he’s very obvious. now it’s more obvious to people closer to him than others, because if you focus enough, his ears tend to twitch a little when he’s lying, and it’s literally the cutest thing ever. because he’ll have this very serious face on, trying to spew out a lie, and then his ears twitch and he’s done for. 

↬ iwaizumi is a really good gift giver, because no one pays attention the way he does. and even if he barely knows anything about the person, he somehow can pick out something they like very well. his gifts tend to be more sentimental, and when it comes to receiving, he’s so bad at — saying thank you? at receiving them? he just gets all red and fidgety and starts saying things like, “you really shouldn’t have,” and, “why would you spend your money on me?” please someone sugar mama/daddy him.

↬ it doesn’t matter if you can drive or not, iwaizumi will never ever let you. he insists on driving, no matter how tired he is. he always plays your favorite music, and he talks to you the whole ride. like he loves to have you leaning close to him on your elbow, chin tucked in your palm, and the two of you are just chatting. 

↬ which leads me to this: iwaizumi loves your voice. he can hear you talk for hours, genuinely. maybe it stems from the fact that he prefers to listen, but really, you can find him at any point in time, at any hour of the day, listening to you speak. he loves to come home to you and listen to you tell him about your day as you two eat, or calling you in the middle of the day just to check in on each other, or having you send him voice notes instead of text messages, or videos instead of pictures. he just loves to hear you, in general. it genuinely elicits this really warm feeling in his chest that he can never get enough of. 

↬ if you wear makeup often, iwaizumi loves to take it off for you. he spends a lot of time watching you when you’re both doing your nightly routines, so at some point, he just asks if he can do it for you instead. he wants to practice, he says, so that one day you can leave it completely up to him. he finds it so intimate, the vulnerability and trust of it all. he’s seen you without makeup, of course, and he thinks you’re really beautiful with and without it, but there’s nothing purer to his heart than the trust you put in him to let him take your makeup off for you. he’s really gentle at first, because there’s this irrational fear that he’s gonna hurt you somehow. if you wear fake lashes, he literally winces as he takes them off it’s adorable. but after he’s wiped it all off, and grabs a damp towel to wash off the excess and the residue, he just leans over and presses a kiss to the tip of your nose or to your lips and smiles softly. 

↬ iwaizumi is a sucker for the little domestic moments the two of you share. it literally might be his favorite thing ever. like the two of you washing the dishes together, you’re cleaning and he’s drying? or doing the laundry together? or cleaning up your messy room together, and each of you grab the ends of the blanket and lift it up to spread it over the mattress neatly? or grocery shopping together, with him trying to ignore the incredibly unhealthy choices you’ve decided to toss into the shopping cart? or him passing by your work as he comes home from his to take the two of you together? or renovating your home together, and you’re covered in paint and dust? or ordering breakfast as you lay in bed because you’re too lazy, and then eating said breakfast still in bed because you’re still lazy? or the way you walk into the bathroom while he showers to wash your face and brush your teeth and the two of you just talk? or the random pictures you send him throughout the day, maybe of a weird cloud or a pretty sunset, with a little smiley face after? or the way his family loves you, so much? the way his mother personally texts you to check in on you, to tell you to come over, to just catch up? because you’re a part of the family now? 

in conclusion, hajime wants to marry you. 

↬ he loves building things for you. like iwaizumi loves the way you just hand him the instruction manual exasperated, and he just sighs with a grin and sits by you. he’s so good at it too! and he always does it shirtless too. it’s mostly for your viewing pleasure :) 

↬ when you two go on vacation, iwaizumi’s  always setting rules like “we need to be up by 7 am to enjoy the day” and sets alarms and all, but sleeps through all of them. you end up the only one awake. he’s just on vacation mode <//3 

↬ always puts your phone in the charger if you forget before you sleep. 

↬ iwaizumi becomes cuddlier after he falls asleep. like he lets you cuddle up to him as you’re both falling asleep, but when you wake up before him, you literally won’t be able to get up, because he’s going to be half on top of you. and if you try to wake him up, he just sticks more to you. it’s so endearing, really it is, because he looks so adorable with his cheek squished to your chest like that, and his mouth slightly parted. not when it’s a battle between you and your bladder though </3

↬ loves wearing your thighs as ear muffs. like iwaizumi adores just having you lay there, and him coming around to lay between your legs, slinging them over his shoulders and locking your ankles. can literally lay there for hours. 

↬ if you ask for socks because your feet are cold, he’ll give you his. don’t ask him why he just does. 

↬ loves to hug you after a very long day. like he just groups you in his arms and holds you there as you go, “long day?” and he replies, “yeah.” then he asks, “long day?” and you go, “yeah.” and the two of you just stand there for a while, before he kisses the top of your head and leads the two of you to get into comfier clothes. 

↬ he prefers showering with you over baths, just cause he likes to get on his knees as you’re scrubbing at his hair and kissing your tummy. he doesn’t know why he loves it as much but he does, especially the way you laugh after. it doesn’t mean he doesn’t love baths as well, especially if he’s extremely tired. there is the issue of convincing him to get out, but just drain the water and watch the goosebumps raid his skin and he’ll leave. 

↬ loves it when you sit on his lap when you’re in public, especially in gatherings with a lot of his friends. he doesn’t do it out of possessiveness or jealousy, he just likes it when you’re so open and comfortable about everyone knowing you’re with him, as his partner and significant other. nothing having to do with insecurity either. he just loves it. loves the way you lean into him, and the way your waist feels against his hand, and the way you talk in slightly hushed tones to each other. 

↬ basically, when iwaizumi loves, he loves with his entire heart <3 

this literally made my entire day, i loved writing these so much. iwa has such a special place in my heart i love him so much <333 also i hope everyone enjoys these as well; love you all, mwah <333 

[astaroth1357]

Demon Brothers as Roommates

Intro:

So, the MC has left the Devildom and, of course, everybody is quite sad… But this time around, they have a little trick up their sleeve. With just a bit of magic (and training thanks to Solomon) the MC can now summon one of their favorite demon boys up to the human world with them! There's just, uh, one problem though… After being summoned to their side, their beloved demon now refuses to leave it.

Alright MC, enjoy your new demonic roommate!!

Lucifer

Apparently Lucifer is on sabbatical… And yes, he does appreciate that irony in that.

Lucifer actually has a surprising amount of human world money stashed away in alias accounts (because this man renting a cheap motel on business trips? Let's be real) so he uses that wealth to get them a place befitting his standards… which are high.

Spacious apartments in nice areas that would make even the upper middle-class shit their pants? Congrats, MC, that's where you're staying now!

Even with all that money, though, Lucifer CANNOT sit idle for a second. The guy is used to working all his life and just sitting around would drive him insane!

Expect him to still be running some Devildom affairs long-distance style while doing something else on the side, probably stock market stuff tbh.

Is going to want to pay for and provide everything himself but will respect the MC if they still want to work and split the bills (not to a ridiculous degree, though, like half-and-half because that would mean getting three jobs at least).

A lot of trips and vacations too, especially if the MC likes to travel. It’s a good excuse to relax while also technically doing something so he doesn’t lose his mind doing nothing in particular.

He is going to be that strict roommate who expects you not to be a slob and isn't afraid to say so. Regularly scheduled cleaning/organization days are mandatory because hygiene is important. Take some pride in yourself and wash up, MC. That kind of thing.

Also going to have short-fuse for… antics. If you want to prank him, do so at your own risk because he may prank back (and that’s not nearly as fun as it sounds, trust me.)

Mammon

Yeah so, living with Mammon is like the inverse of Lucifer. Prepare to be poooor.

Man has no human money, are you kidding me? Even if he did, he wouldn’t keep it for very long. Couples budgeting is a MUST if you’re looking to survive.

The apartment is going to be whatever the MC can more or less afford on their own with Mammon shoved in somewhere like a cheap lamp… Don’t expect a lot of room.

However, Mammon is great at the hustle. Man can work multiple jobs and actually be pretty dang good at them. For the most part, anyway. He may occasionally trip up and get himself fired, but he bounces back quick.

If the MC isn’t so moral he can also uh… “find” some extra money lying around too. Just be careful when playing with fire, right?

Even if they’re poor as shit, Mammon is still a blast to be around. The guy knows how to have fun on and off of a budget. Lots of “window shopping” (getting kicked out of stores for goofing off), nightclubs, amusement parks, and cheap fun. They’ll never be without a story to tell or a smile on their face!

He IS pretty slobbish though. He’s not going to remember to clean up after himself unless told, but he’s also not going to be bothered if they don’t do the same thing. A weekly cleaning day is going to be ideal unless they don’t mind living in a pigsty...

Prank waaaaars!! The kind of guy to get them both water guns and have a war in the middle of the apartment complex. Good luck getting any rest with Mammon around.

Leviathan 

Whelp, your room is now his room, quite literally MC. You had to pick the shut-in…

The guy isn’t exactly poor but what human money he does have is all wrapped up in his many interests… Merch interests specifically. 

Thankfully, he won’t take up too much space. Put him in a room with a desk, bed (or bathtub), TV, and computer and he’s good to go! 

He’s not going to be a complete bum, thankfully. There’s no way that they can get him to leave the apartment, but he can run small online stores (usually anime themed) or become a streamer. Probably enough to help pay the bills, but not much more.

If they don’t mind having a literally permanent housemate, then being with Levi has its own kind fun. Lots of anime marathons, movie nights, and game nights. Really, it’s just like how he was in the House, but now transported to the human world.

Is probably going to want a pet goldfish, snake ,or lizard so prepare to house Henry 3.0.

When he does leave the apartment, it’s to take the MC to conventions, concerts, or anime stores. He always manages to get just enough money for these trips, but never says where the money comes from… Best not to ask. Could be black market for they know...

… He’s a shut-in. He’s a shut-in roommate. Hygiene isn’t exactly his main concern. If they ask him to, he’ll make sure to clean up after himself, but he may need a reminder.

Can have a fun side, but just don’t mess with his stuff too much. He doesn’t need a Mammon 2.0 around too...

Satan

He's either hatching a plan for world domination or adopting 10 cats… One or the other.

About as poor as Mammon at first, but threat not. He won’t be for very long. Satan is intelligent beyond his years (or equivalent his years maybe?) so he’ll probably net himself several degrees within a couple semesters like a certified prodigy.

At that point, there really isn’t much to worry about (aside from student loans, join our pain Satan) but he can sell himself just fine and probably get some high paying job like a lawyer or doctor or whatever… I’m not jealous…

They’ll start out in a pretty modest place, but there will be upgrades fairly quickly when he starts racking it in so Satan’s a fairly decent choice as a roommate.

He does still have that nasty habit of breaking things when he’s pissed off, but that can be subverted by getting a pet! Just hold up whatever cat you own when he’s about to rampage then declare that he’s scaring/upsetting them and he’ll stop in his tracks. Works every time!

Probably going to be the most domestic out of the brothers. He enjoys cooking (and ain’t half bad at it either), shopping is a practical necessity, he’ll take care your pets like they were his own flesh and blood, etc.

There will even to be points where he’s in bed reading in the middle of the night with tea and reading glasses like some kind of grandma so take that image for what you will.

Satan is the prankster of the household, but he does his pranks more as a way to give grief to his enemies rather than for funsies. Be warned, if you poke this bear he will retaliate for sweet, sweet revenge and he has centuries worth of pranks behind him. Good luck.

Asmodeus 

It's a new party every night, sweetie, get used to it!

Asmo is the only other brother who has some amount of money to offer from his own trips to the human world, but it's just a modest amount.

Is totally willing to work to help pay for a nice place. He wants a building nice enough to host parties!

Would go back to modeling and maybe dip his toe into acting from time to time… He gets a lot of gigs (this IS the Avatar of Lust after all) so they won't be strapped for cash. Which is good, because Asmo is a very "business by day, but party every night" kind of person. 

Do know that his shopping is NOT going to slow down either. Keep an eye on the budget.

He’s also going to make friends wherever he goes so he’s going to want for them all to hang out at least somewhat regularly.

That being said, he can tone it down some if the MC so desires, just know that they can’t keep him cooped up in the apartment for too long or he’ll start getting antsy. You can’t keep this stallion locked up, MC, he needs to run free!!

Being with Asmo is going to be like having a free pass to whatever gathering the MC wants to go to, at least. He could even get them into red carpet events with just his sheer charisma, charm, and er-… “charms.” Who doesn’t want to meet their favorite actress or singer, eh?

But oh, sweetie, please don’t prank him! Life is too short to waste on silly games (he also just genuinely just doesn’t enjoy being messed with so best not do it).

Beelzebub 

Brave choice, MC, but quick question. How in the world are you going to pay your food bills???

Beel is a real sweetheart through and through but his stomach is NOT. That thing will eat them out of house and home! (Maybe even literally!!) Both of them are going to have to work and probably some pretty looong hours (cause he’s got no money either).

Honestly, Beel would be best as a personal trainer in the human world. He’s a pretty decent combination of tough but genuinely kind and motivating. (The fact that he’s pretty easy on the eyes would help out a lot too).

But the MC won’t have to worry about Beel sneaking off with someone just looking for some “quality time.” He’d take his job seriously, though he’s not particularly versed in what the human body can’t handle so only the really dedicated (or masochistic) would stick with him anyway.

“Good work last week, April! You did so well that we’re going to go from 500 pushups to a thousand! … I can see you’re worried, but I believe in you.”

But hey, he can deadlift well over 2,000 pounds without breaking a sweat so who has the balls to argue with him, anyway?

Trying out every restaurant in town would be a must. He’d even plan out vacations for them with the sole purpose of travelling the globe and tasting the different flavors. Food trips!!

He's neat enough since he used to tidy up a lot for Belphie so no need to worry about him picking up after himself (except for the occasional pile of wrappers. Toss those out unless you want ants)

I mean, you can prank Beel if you want. He'll be pretty good-natured about it as long as it stays harmless. Just don't ruin any of his food, got it?

Belphegor 

So… Belphie makes for some excellent décor! Really he is great at laying around and looking fantastic just… he’s not that great at much else...

Realistically, choosing Belphie as a roommate is kind like having a high maintenance pet. He’s good for love and cuddles, but he’s not going to be helping with the bills or anything unless they whine incessantly about it.

If the MC can make enough for the both of them, then it should be fine. They won’t get upset and he won’t be crabby but if not… Oh boy.

Regular job Belphie is a needy Belphie. He’ll come back from whatever job he’s working, likely a night shift, and demand attention or cuddles right then and there. He needs to recharge those batteries, after all...

If he isn’t working then he's at his happiest. He can even pull off being a “househusband” of sorts. He’s not going to go above and beyond the call of duty, but he can keep the place clean, get a basic meal on the table (provided someone teaches him some human recipes), and get groceries if he needs to… You know, basic domestic shit.

They’re going to have to come to terms with the fact that, at some level, Belphie just doesn’t believe in “common curtesy” or “human decency.” If some neighbors are being too noisy for his liking, he will troll them to oblivion and beyond. He may even get sued for it if he takes it too far, so the MC will have to keep an eye on him…

He’s the House’s #2 prankster, but unlike Satan he doesn’t need any malice to be a little shit. The MC will be pranked and it will be at the most unexpected times. Be warned...

Check out my Masterlist for more!

[httphopewrld]

I Don’t Know What to Call This | (f/m/a)

Just Friends? Friends with benefits? Dating? Questions swarmed your mind when one of your dear friends, Allie, asked about you and Hoseok’s relationship. The truth was you didn’t know. You and Hoseok were close, knowing each other since elementary school, and considered each other friends. However, as you two grew older, maturing into separate professions—you a well-known fashion designer, and Hoseok a famous musician and dancer—you two had engaged in some intimate activities (sex—lots of it.) After Allie’s simple question, you had to confront your feelings. But were you and Hoseok ready to be more than close friends and f*ck buddies?

Pairing: friend/lover/bfhoseok! x female reader

Genre: slowburn fluff and SMUT

Rating: 18+ because there’s swearing and pretty detailed smut

Warnings: swearing and SMUT (one of the most detailed smuts I've written, and there's more than one sex scene.) Smut includes: switch!reader and switch!hoseok, grinding and thrusting, protective sex (USE CONDOMS, I cannot stress that enough), lots of kissing, ass-grabbing, dirty talk, a wee bit of choking on both sides, squirting, male and female oral, fingering and handjobs, vibrator use, cyber-sex, the reader uses dildo, slight degradation, and just lots of filth—YOU'RE WELCOME FELLOW FILTHY ANIMALS. Oh, and spoilers for the horror movie Hush. It's on Netflix if you haven't watched it yet. It is GOOD.

  Word Count: 16, 465 (wowie)

A/N: Thank you for waiting! It’s rushed, so expect some little mistakes here an there, but I’m happy with how it turned out. I hope y'all enjoy it! Also, Y/L/N means "your last name."

  Taglist: @kirbykook​ @kleritata​ @taestannie​ @jenotation​ @hemmos-obrien​ @zeharilisharaban​ @speed-of-wind​ @kawaisoraya​

⊱ ────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ────── ⊰

“You can move those over there,” you gestured to the left corner of the windowed room, where a pile of boxes waited. The move was going to take longer than you expected because the movers arrived a week later than your assistant, Rachel said. I really need to talk to her about this. You stressed in your mind, rubbing your temples. “Are you okay?” You looked up, vision resuming its focus on your friend, Allie. Allie, your friend for as long as you could remember, offered to help you move to your new building. She would help you manage everything, including the movers, tracking your company's items, and the layout you gave to her for said things while managing the company. “I’m just irritated at Rachel,” you noticed her confusion, “my new assistant.” She nodded, remembering, “Right. Why is she still employed?” “Because she’s new, and being an assistant is a tough feat. She’ll get it soon.” You reassured, “Rachel is a fast learner, and this is her first mistake. We’re prepared for the next show, though, because Westley's helping me organize it.” “Remind me who Westley is?” Allie asked. You sighed. “West is like my second brain. He helps organize the fashion shows, hire the models, find the venues, and secure the guest list. He has other people help him too, but he’s the brains of that. I create the fashion, and he finds a way to present it.” Allie nodded, “Gotcha.” Your phone rang, and you answered. “Y/N.” “Y/N!” Rachel chimed on the other end. “It’s Rachel. I’m so sorry about the mix-up on dates. It won’t happen again, I—” “I know it won’t, Rachel. You’re new, so I expected to slip up. I’ve gotten it taken care of,” you nudged Allie’s arm, and she smiled. “We’re luckily prepared for the next show in Vancouver, so you don’t have to worry about the mess up. All I need you to do now is make sure that my fabrics are coming in.” “Yes! They’ve arrived at the studio.” Rachel replied. "Fantastic. Thank you. That'll be all for now. Check on West if he needs anything." You ordered. “Will do, Y/N. Talk to you soon.” You hung up. The Vancouver show was in five months, giving you and your team enough time to design the clothes for the production and move to the new building. The show's theme was natural bodies of water and nature, a nod to Canada's landscape. The clothing catalogue would include various icy blue shades to represent waterfalls and warm emerald tones like flora and fauna. These colours would be encapsulated in elegant gowns and suits, worn by different body shapes, genders, and colours. The materials would be made from recycled fabrics from your previous shows and from your fellow artists. You were known for designing elegant attire, so it was best to keep to it. However, it was rare to see different sized, coloured, and gendered models on a runway; because of having to customize clothes to those models. Additionally, making clothes from recycled fabrics would be tough. “Okay,” you began, “I need to talk to my design team and plan out the gowns. Can I leave you here to deal with the movers?” Allie gave you a thumbs up. “Thank you,” you smiled, hugging her, “if you need anything, please call me or Rachel, or both. We’ll be back to help.” Before you left, a thought struck you. You turned around to face Allie. “I should just hire you.” She chuckled, “Why?” You scoffed, "Because you're here all the time!" You walked back to her. "Listen, you're the best manager I know. You can be my third brain. You already are, outside of work, so it would make sense." Allie seemed unsure. “I already have my job at Youth and Hope.” You grasped her hands. “You would be given a great wage, not just because you’re my best friend, but because you’re going to be busy with lots of work. You would be handling the management tasks, like West. You’d be given a good amount of vacation, trips for shows and meetings would be paid for—you could get that loft you always wanted downtown.” You wiggled your eyebrows, and Allie laughed. “Don’t I have to go through an interview process?” You brushed a hand through the air. “I can get someone to interview you and officially hire you. Once that’s done, you’ll start getting paid.” You checked your watch, and a quick rush of panic ran through you. “Shit, I’m going to be late. Consider it, alright! Let me know your availability, and we’ll schedule an interview!” “Okay!” She shouted back as you left. . . The coffee had become bitter. You weren’t sure if it was the roast or the fact that this was your fourth cup of the night. It had been a month since the fabrics arrived. Thanks to Allie, your friend and now employee, your move to the new building was complete; however, your designs weren’t translating as smoothly as you wish. "Fuck," you cursed, resting your head in your hands and rubbing your temples. The sketches waited in front of you—the measurements and ideas raking at your confidence. Your designs are redundant. You’ve done something similar last time.                                                                       Boring. Plain. You turned back to your mannequins, still bare. The theme was in your mind, and your design team reassured you that your sketches were fine, but it all felt fuzzy. “Y/N,” Rachel peered into the studio from the door, “there’s a gentleman here to see you.” “His name?” You asked, still looking at the mannequins. You heard footsteps retreat into the front lobby, then come back to the door. “Jung Hoseok?” You turned around, trying to contain your excitement. “Please send him in.” Rachel nodded, jogging back to the lobby. You heard a muffled “thank you” before heavy footsteps approaching your studio. Hoseok reached the doorway, beaming his signature smile. He wore acid-washed jeans, a baggy white sweater that matched his chunky light sneakers. His dark hair was slightly wavy and parted in the middle. A tote bag was slung over his shoulder. “Y/N!” He cheered, opening his arms wide. “Hoseok!” You replied, running into his arms and hugging him tightly. You couldn’t remember the last time you saw Hoseok—a year or two? “Fuck, how long has it been?” You asked him. He pulled away, thinking. “About six months?” Totally off. “Seriously, it felt longer than that.” You argued. Hoseok pulled out his phone and scrolled through his calenderer and photos. He made a ‘tsk’ sound. “Ah, see here,” he showed you a few photos of you two with his friends, who were also his bandmates, “six months ago, you joined us on tour for a couple days before coming back here. I have it also marked in my calendar.” He showed you the dates, which were marked with ‘💚Y/N’s visit💚.’ “Can Namjoon or Yoongi confirm this?” You crossed your arms. Hoseok mimicked your body language. “I can call them right now,” he challenged. You two stood in competitive tension. You succumbed. “You win this time, Jung Hoseok.” He playfully chuckled. You realized that Hoseok doesn’t live around here. “Wait, why are you in town. Shouldn’t you and the others be in Korea planning another album or something?” You speculated. “Our company gave us a month for vacation because we spent most of the year touring.” Hoseok sighed. “So, I decided to come to visit.” You hugged him again, happy to see someone who wasn’t your employee amidst this chaos of stress. “How long are you staying?” You asked, muffled against his chest. He paused. “Maybe a month?” You pulled away from him, shocked. “A month? Here? That’s all your vacation time.” “Yeah,” he replied, as if that wasn’t a big deal, “I didn’t want to travel to a bunch of places because the group and I have been doing that for almost a year—and it’s pretty chill in this area.” He sighed. “Besides, I don’t think many people would recognize me. The airport wasn’t busy, and I haven’t been swarmed by fans yet.” “Do you have a place to stay?” You asked. He nodded. “Yup! I’m staying at a fancy hotel. I got the suite at the top floor,” he made a gesture with his hand, indicating how high up his suite was. You playfully elbowed his side. "Wow, look at you, Mr. Famous. You can afford a top suite now. Are you sure you don't want to stay with me, though?” Hoseok dismissed your offer with a wave of his hand. “It’s alright, Y/N. Thank you, though.” He peered over your shoulder, “It looks like you’re busy anyway, so I think I’ll just stick to my suite.” He walked past you, over to the bare mannequins. “Are you preparing for that show in Vancouver that you told me about?” You nodded, relaying your theme and ideas to him. He smiled. “That sounds really cool,” he pointed to the mannequins, “but don’t you need some clothes for the show, then?” You rolled your eyes, chuckling at him for being a smart ass. “Yes, I do. I’m brainstorming some ideas right now, but I’m coming up with nothing. I have the design team coming in tomorrow with drafts, but I’d like to bring my own thing to the table, you know? I’m the main brain of this operation, and it’d be embarrassing if I come in with zilch.” You leaned against one of the tables, facing the mannequins. "The tough part is designing gowns that fit the right people, you know. Sure, you can make a collection of clothes, but they won't look good if they don't fit the models." You shook your head. "Maybe it's just tougher to design clothes for different bodies. I should just stick to one type of person and leave it at that." Hoseok walked up beside you, leaning against the same table and facing the figures. “Why don’t you find the models and then design the clothes?” You looked at him, surprised. “But wouldn’t that take a long time?” He crossed his arms, “Well, how many models would you need?” “We’re thinking around seventy. There’s going to be two changes within the show.” Hoseok nodded, and you could see him brainstorming. “Well, you have four months left, right? You and your team can make some drafts, cast the models, and finalize the ideas with said models. Which would take about a couple of months? You could do that while planning the show?” He paused, appearing to notice your hesitant expression. “Think about it. You’ve trained your team well enough to work on its own, right? That’s what you did for your last show, which was a success. You came in every day for a couple hours to make sure everything was in order, then focused on other things.” Hoseok grasped your hands. “You’re great at multitasking, so do it. It’s scary, but you can check on people every day to make sure everything’s alright.” You bit your lip, “I-I don’t know, Hoseok. That sounds like a lot of work—” “You did it last time, and it worked out just fine,” he gently squeezed your hands, “and I’m here for a month. I can help out whenever you need me. I’ll simply clean things up and fetch coffee if that’s what you need.” You laughed, “Like my intern?” “Yeah! I don’t know how to design anything or plan a fashion show, but I’ll do what I can.” He smiled. “You’re so much more than you think, Y/N, and if you need reminders, I’ll be here.” You smiled back at him, so grateful to have him here. “My god, you’re fucking sweet,” you scoffed, taking your hands out of his. Hoseok laughed. You pushed yourself off the table and faced him. “How did we even become friends?” You questioned. He actually gave it a thought. “You joined by dance club in elementary school, when no one else would.” He laughed so hard that he teared up. “I think we actually took club photos, and it was only you and I posing.” You laughed with him, remembering those days spent trying to breakdance to hip hop and presenting dance routines to your parents. “Yeah, that was before you joined that Music Academy in grade four, right?” He nodded, and you sighed, surprised you still remembered. Your mind came back to the present. “So, you’re actually okay with helping out?” You checked. “Why would I ask if I didn’t want to?” Hoseok replied. You tapped your index finger against your temple, “true.” “So, how much do you want?” Hoseok looked offended at your question. You chuckled. “Well, you’re going to work for me, so I need to pay you.” “It’s only just a month, though.” “Yeah, but—” “What about we see how much you have me do before you pay me?” He interrupted. “I might just have to fetch coffee, so you can just give me money on the spot.” You thought about it for a minute. Hoseok yawned. “This work talk is making me tired. Do you want to go out for dinner?” He looked around you, “Unless you have more work to do. I can always wait in the lobby for you to finish.” You brushed your hand through the air, “Nah, it’s okay. I’m pretty brain dead anyway. I need to be energized for tomorrow’s draft review.” Hoseok pushed himself off the table and clapped. “Awesome! Where do you think I’m taking you for dinner?” You bit your lip, trying to guess. “Sushi?” “Sushi it is!” He beamed. You grabbed your things and followed him out of the studio.

Both of you sat towards the back of the sushi restaurant, to Hoseok’s request. The waitress placed you two in a concealed booth, with drapes covering a small entrance.

You two had to take your shoes off before sitting down.

“Why did you say, ‘sushi it is?’” You asked, taking a sip of your water.

Hoseok opened his can of sprite, “What do you mean?”

“You asked where I thought you were taking me, I responded, and you said, ‘sushi it is!’” You reiterated.

He took a sip of his soda before responding, "It's a trick I learned from Instagram." He set his drink down. "You ask someone, 'where do you think I'm taking you for food?' dinner or whatever, and then take them to a place with that food. It's easier than asking 'what do you want to eat?' because people can't decide."

You nodded, making an ‘aaahhh’ sound. “Smart.”

You two caught up while eating your meals. Hoseok chatted about his bandmates and the tour, and you talked about your move to the new building.

Most of it was just adding more details about your lives because you two texted lots during the week and sometimes video chatted. You'd get to see Hoseok and his friends, and he'd get a view of your life on the other side of the world.

To others, it looked like both of you were dating. Both of your friends would tease, singing, "Y/N and Hoseok sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G." Many of his fans, ARMY, would theorize your friendship, pointing out the matching bracelets you two wore—which was later proved normal because Hoseok went live on Vlive making bracelets for his bandmates.

And you two would continually clarify that you two were strictly long-time friends. Nothing more.

Girls and boys can be friends. Simple as that.

You and Hoseok finished your meals. You two shared a few rolls and a bento box and were full.

“That was really good.” You commented, rubbing your stomach.

Hoseok chuckled, copying you, “I think I’m pregnant.”

You laughed, “Shut up! You’re so fit.”

“You’re right,” he replied, pulling up his sleeves and flexing his arms.

You both laughed as he flexed his muscles, which were significantly more prominent than your remembered. You were slightly jealous of his lean athletic figure.

And were gazing at it for too long.

“I don’t know about you,” Hoseok sighed, appearing to be tired from the food and flexing his muscles, “but I’m in the mood for some Ben and Jerry’s.”

Your eyes lit up. “YES.”

“Cookie dough with chunks?” You both said in unison.

You two erupted in laughter.

"I'll go play," Hoseok said, getting up.

You stopped him, “It’s alright,” you smiled, “my treat.”

Before you left the booth, you turned around and said thoughtfully, "But you're getting the ice cream."

Hoseok's expression conveyed the same seriousness as if a soldier on a mission.

He saluted you. “Copy that, Y/N.”

You saluted him back and left to pay.

The walk to Ben and Jerry’s was quick. Both of you were eager to share the tub of ice cream.

You ended up getting a chocolate chip cookie dough and a cherry Garcia pint, and two spoons to share. You both ate the ice creams with delight while walking back to your apartment building.

When arriving at your building, Hoseok handed you the cookie dough ice cream pint.

“What are you doing?” You asked while he gave you the closed pint.

He tilted his head to the side, confused. “What do you mean? I’m dropping you off at your place.”

You gave a shocked expression. “Dropping me off? We’re not even done our pints!”

“But you have work tomorrow. I don’t want to keep you up.” Hoseok stepped back towards the edge of the sidewalk. “I can catch a cab back to the hotel, don’t worry.”

You balanced the pints in one hand and used your other to grab his arm.

“You’re not going anywhere,” you said, pulling away from the curb and closer to your building.

Hoseok pulled his arm out of your grip. "Y/N, you need to be well-rested—"

“At least help me finish the ice cream.” You interrupted, holding up the pints that were now in both your hands, along with your spoon.

“We haven’t seen each other six months, and it’s only…”

Hoseok pulled out his phone. “Nine.”

“Exactly!” You expressed. “It’s only nine. I don’t need to be in until nine-thirty tomorrow morning. As long as you’re out by eleven, that gives me an hour to get ready for bed at twelve, and I will wake up at eight. Plenty of rest!”

You watched his unsure expression.

"If you don't want to go home at eleven, that's fine by me. Could you leave earlier? Or you can go back to your hotel if you want. I won't take offence; you know me." You held up your arms in surrender, ice cream pints still in your hands. "But if you're leaving because you're worried that I won't get enough sleep, don't. I'm a grown woman. I know how to take care of myself, and I want you to come in.

Hoseok bit his lip, appearing to debate the offer.

He sighed. "Fine, I'll come in. However, I don't want to get a text from you complaining about being tired in the morning."

“I swear,” you promised, pretending to draw an ‘x’ over your heart, “I cross my heart.”

Hoseok chuckled, and you led the two of you into your apartment building and into the elevator. You pressed the twentieth button, and you two waited in comfortable silence.

The elevator doors opened, and you two walked to your apartment.

You opened the door to your studio apartment, locking the door behind you two and hanging up your bag along with your keys.

“Want anything to drink?” You asked, setting down the ice cream pint in your hand and taking off your coat.

Hoseok set down the cookie dough pint on the coffee table. “Anything is alright, thanks,”

You hummed, getting both of you bottles of black cherry soda and bringing over the cherry Garcia pint and your spoon.

"Jesus, do you need help?" Hoseok asked with worry, seeing you holding the bottles by their necks in one hand and the ice cream pint and spoon in the other.

You chuckled, “It’s alright, just sit down.”

You two sat on the couch, twisting off the caps on your sodas and taking a sip.

Hoseok sighed. “That’s really good,” he gestured to the pop before putting it down on the coffee table.

“Yeah! They’re so addictive,” you replied, setting coasters under both of your drinks.

Both of you continued to reminisce about your childhood, especially middle school. The puberty years had been gruesome to you two, speckling your faces with acne.

You pulled out a photo album you kept on one of your bookshelves, which had pictures of your families and your younger selves—even photos when Hoseok was training, before debuting with BTS in 2013.

“Oh my god, look at you!” You gasped, showing him a picture.

In the photo, Hoseok arms were crossed over his chest, his attempt at having swagger. He wore a collared shirt, and his hair was short.

“Oh god, no,” Hoseok cringed, gently pushing the photo away.

You chuckled, "You were so adorable, always dancing and having a good time." You smiled. "You are such a hard worker, practicing so much. I remember you twisting your ankle but still practicing."

You looked at him tenderly. “I wish people could see that.”

Hoseok smiled back at you, softly touching your hand. You grasped his hand, feeling butterflies in your stomach.

He was the first to pull away.

“You remember our sleepovers?” He asked.

You giggled, "Yeah when you could leave that cramped place you shared with the boys."

He swatted your arm, “That apartment was good! It was where everything started.” He pouted. “Anyways, we would always look up deep questions to ask each other—or would you rather.”

You rolled your eyes. “Those questions were overrated.”

“I thought they were nice!” Hoseok defended. “We got to know each other more, like, ‘what is your biggest fear?’ or ‘what is your biggest pet peeve?’”

He must've seen your unimpressed expression because he continued, "You got to admit that you learned a bit more about me because of those questions!"

You sighed. “I did, I guess.”

Hoseok held up his index finger, seeming to signal ‘wait a minute.’

He pulled out his phone. “Let’s try some now, then.”

“Hoseok—”

“Come on,” he interrupted. “If you don’t learn anything new about me from the first four questions we do, then we can stop, alright? I will never bring up these questions ever again.”

You debated his offer.

“Fine.” You agreed, setting down the photo album. “Shoot.”

“Okay, but we both pick two questions and answer all of them. For example, when we ask a question, the other person answers before the picker.” Hoseok said while he scrolled.

You hummed, understanding his instructions.  

“Want to do would you rather?”

“Sure.”

"Sexy edition?" Hoseok wiggled his eyebrows. "Unless you're uncomfortable."

You scoffed. “Hobi, we're grown, adults. I can take a few sexual questions."

“Okay,” Hoseok replied, “but if you ever feel uncomfortable, we can choose another question or stop.”

You nodded, and Hoseok appeared to find what he was looking for.

“Alright,” he began, “would you rather bite someone’s ear during sex or bite someone’s lip during sex?”

This is pretty vanilla. You thought.

"Lip, for sure." You emphasized the 'sure' in your sentence, stringing along with the 'er' sound.

“Same,” Hoseok agreed while passing you his phone.

You took his cell and strolled through the website.

What do I choose? Do I just dive in, or go for the vanilla shit?

“Would you rather engage in foreplay or go right into the main course?” You asked.

Hoseok thought about it. “I would say foreplay. You can warm things up—and nothing is more fun than teasing.” He shimmied, making you two laugh.

You agreed, passing the phone to him.

“Oooo, here’s a classic,” he grinned, “top or bottom?”

“I think I’m a switch,” you replied.

He tilted his head.

“It’s like, you’re both, top and bottom. I like to take control sometimes, but I can also sub.” You explained. “You?”

“Top,” he replied, “for sure.”

You laughed, “You sound so against being a bottom.”

He laughed too. “I like pleasuring the person I’m having sex with. Nothing is more satisfying than making someone cum.”

“True,” you admitted.

You found your mind wandering to unholy memories of you and Hoseok. What was odd about your friendship that—to put it blatantly—you two had sex. Not just once, but a few times.

This is why asking these questions was pretty casual and not too surprising.

You two started engaging in sex a couple years ago. You were stressed about your company starting, and Hoseok was in town. He offered to help you relax, and before you knew it, he was drilling into you from behind.

Both of you agreed to stay friends but continued to have sex every now and then. It was great, you had to admit. Probably the best sex you had in your life, and it was good that you two were able to keep your friendship platonic at the same time. Only, it was sex without the romantic feelings.

To be honest, you were craving it again.

He passed you his phone again, and you tried to pick a good last question.

“Would you rather kiss me gently or kiss me aggressively?” You asked.

Hoseok paused before answering. “Depends on the mood.”

“Well, at this moment, then, what is the mood?”

You watched Hoseok’s eyes shift between your lips then your eyes.

“Aggressively.”

You hummed. “Good to know.” You passed him back his phone. “Last question.”

Hoseok chuckled, “You seriously didn’t learn anything new?”

You shrugged. “I guess not.”

He didn't seem bothered, though, when his body shifted closer to yours.

When he looked back up at you, his expression changed. Although his eyes were already an opaque shade of brown, they had darkened.

I know that look.

He smirked. “Would you rather make the first move or receive the first move?”

You bit your lip, gazing up at his body.

Before you could reconnect with his eyes, you heard his phone drop, and his lips were on yours.

Just like his answer, his kisses were aggressive and needy. You could taste the cherry cola and ice cream on his lips and mouth.

You pulled his face closer, wanting more.

Hoseok’s body language opened up, allowing you to get up and straddle his lap. You felt his hands inch up your shirt and tug at the fabric. He helped you take it off, which gave him access to your breasts.

You felt him undo your bra with a quick flick of his fingers, and you tossed it off without a care.

Hoseok let out a chuckle before claiming your lips with his.

His lips were intoxicating, and you wanted more.

“Please touch me,” you begged against his lips.

He hummed, grazing his hands down your back before roughly grabbing your ass. You moaned, and he held you against him, hard enough to feel him grind into you.

“Fuck, stop teasing,” you pulled away, and he laughed.

“Baby, I’m not teasing,” he smirked.

Baby. The term of endearment made your heart swoon.

You weren’t always this infatuated by Hoseok. But the way he came to visit you during his break, had dinner and ice cream with you, and kissed you this good—it made you want more than just a fling.

But you couldn't think that way. It was sex. You two were doing this to get off, not engage in lovemaking.

Hoseok swiped his tongue over his bottom lip, eyeing your figure. “You know what I want.”

You ran your hand up and down his chest. “What are you waiting for?”

Hoseok's hands came underneath your thighs, and he picked you up, walking you to your bedroom. He used your body to close the door, slamming you against it.

He ground himself against your core, causing you to moan louder than you expected.

You covered your mouth in embarrassment.

Hoseok chuckled, “It’s okay,” he pulled away enough to graze his thumb over your cheek, “I love it when you moan.”

You rolled your eyes, kissing him and grabbing his ass, causing him to grind on your core.

"Fuck, I can practically feel that you wet," he groaned, trying his best to hold you up and sturdy you against the door.

“B-bed,” you choked, one of his particular thrusts stroking perfectly against you.  

Hoseok moved you towards your bed and gingerly placed you down. He kissed down your bare chest and slowly took off your pants and underwear.

“Fuck, your perfect,” Hoseok awed, softly running a finger through your wet heat.

His cold finger sent a wave of pleasure through you, making you flinch.

Hoseok hummed. “So wet for me,”

He looked up at you. “May I?”

You nodded, but he only smirked.

“Words, baby,” he put a hand to his ear.

“Please,” you bit down on your lip.

You felt him spread your lips, and you clenched in response. He appeared to savour you, taking his time as he ate you out.

When you moaned, he’d hum, sending vibrations into your heat that brought you closer to your climax.

“Fuck, I’m close—”

He pulled away, licking his lips and gazing down at you.

“Hoseok—”

“You taste better than I remembered,” he commented. “But I want you to cum around me.”

God, I love his dirty talk.

You watched him take off his clothes. He must've been working out because he was more toned than six months ago.

He was about to line himself up with your entrance, but you stopped him with your foot on his chest.

You smirked. “Not yet, baby.”

You stood up. “Sit.”

Hoseok sat on the bed, your roles shifting.

“But I want—”

You interrupted his beg with your hand around his erect cock. He appeared to be speechless as you run your hand up and down his shaft.

“Hm?” You asked, chuckling lightly at how easy it was to make him submit. “What do you want, baby?”

“I-I wanted,” he stuttered, thrusting slightly into your hand, “to cum inside you.”

“Is that so?” You questioned, pulling your hand away.

Despite his vocalized want, he whined when you pulled away.

“I’m only doing what my baby wants,” you shrugged. “Condoms are in the bottom drawer on the right.”

Hoseok dashed over to the bedside table, rummaging for the condoms.

“Those should fit you, right?”

"Yes," he replied, opening the familiar wrapper and unravelling it on his erect member.  

He stood there for a minute, wrapped penis and naked, just fondly looking at your nude figure.

He whispered something under his breath.

“Hm?”

“Nothing,” Hoseok blushed. “You still want to fuck?”

“Yes.”

“Top or bottom?”

“Top please,” you smiled.

Hoseok laid down on your bed, and you climbed onto his torso.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he cursed as you moved off his abs and onto his cock.

A wet puddle was left on his abdomen, which he wiped away with his fingers, then putting said fingers into his mouth.

“So good,” he groaned.

You hummed in response, slowly sinking onto him.

"Fuck, you feel so good," you said when you bottomed out.

You started moving, swaying your hips back and forth. Each time Hoseok's cock would graze against your g-spot.

His hands were placed on your hips, guiding you on him. You could feel yourself clenching around him and your climax building up.

“I-I’m close,” you stuttered.

Hoseok swallowed, “Me too.”

“Ch-choke me,” you requested as you picked up your pace.

Hoseok grinned. “Only if you choke me back.”

You chuckled and rolled your eyes. Hoseok gently wrapped his hand around your neck, and you did the same, slowly applying pressure.

You felt your thighs burn from exhaustion. "F-fuck me," you cursed, slowing down.

Both of you let go of each other's neck, and Hoseok flipped you two over, still inside you.

"It's okay," Hoseok assures before resuming the pace.

His thrusts were rough and deep, and he pushed your thighs against your chest.

“Fuck, please keep going,” you begged.

“Can I choke you?” Hoseok asked.

“Please,” you replied, “do you want me to choke you too?”

“Yes,” Hoseok responded.

You felt yourself rhythmically clench around him. Hoseok must’ve realized because he began thrusting faster into you.

The room was filled with unholy noises. You could hear the wet sounds of your entrance and the impact of Hoseok’s hips against your core.

“Fuck don’t stop,” you choked out.

The knot building up in your abdomen unravelled, and pleasure and relaxation spread through your body. Your core gripped onto Hoseok like a vice.

“H-Hoseok,” you stammered, your core overstimulated.

“I-I want you to squirt,” he replied, continuing his firm thrusts.

“Oh,” you moaned.

He pounded deeper into your core, to the point where you could feel his tip ram against your cervix.

“Ah!” You screamed, feeling yourself gush around him.

“Fuck, so good,” Hoseok groaned. “I-I’m cumming.”

You felt the condom fill up inside you, and you felt disappointed that his cum couldn’t coat your walls.

His thrusts slowed down, and he stood still for a few moments.

When he pulled out, you shivered with oversensitivity. You knew that your sheets would be a mess and weren't looking forward to cleaning them when Hoseok left.

You looked up at the ceiling, breathless, while you heard Hoseok walk away from the bed.

“Where do you put your towels?” He asked.

“In the hallway, in the closet beside the dryer and washing machine.” You replied.

You heard him walk into the hallway and the closet door open and close. “Thanks,” he said. “And your bedsheets?”

“The closet in my room.”

You heard him walk back into your room, open your walk-in closet that led into your bathroom, and shuffle around. The tap ran in your bathroom for a couple seconds, then the sound of Hoseok wringing out something.

You began to sit up, but he hushed you to lie back down.

“Just relax,” he soothed, placing the clean bedsheets on your bedside table and walking over to you with a damp cloth.

“You don’t have to—”

He placed a hand on your thigh. “It’s okay,” he reassured.

You two exchanged a quick smile before Hoseok began to clean you up.

“You didn’t even cum on me,” you chuckled as he gently wiped your inner thighs.

“I know,” he replied, “but I still made you messy.”

When your thighs were no longer covered in your cum, you two changed your bedsheets.

“You good sleep in the same bed?” You asked while folding over your duvet.

“Sure,” He smiled.

You walked into your closet. "There should be some clothes that fit you. I usually wear men's clothes at home, anyways. It's crazy how great the quality men's clothes are compared to women's clothes." You picked out a t-shirt and sweatpants and tossed them at Hoseok.

He caught them, “Thanks.”

You two showered separately and spent the time getting ready together dancing to tunes.

If someone were to walk into the room, it wouldn’t look or smell like you two just had sex. You two looked like close friends having a dance party before going to bed.

Again, after you two had sex the first time, you both agreed to stay friends. It was easier said than done.

It was awkward initially, but you both were able to get past that by talking it through. Hoseok would ask how you felt during sex and what could have been better, and you would return the question.

Now, you both were able to have a good time and intimately learn more about each other.

Sure, it was strange, but it was a mutual agreement between consenting adults and fun.

The sex was fun—great, really—and you couldn’t have it any other way.

But you would be lying to yourself if you didn’t feel like something was missing.

.

.

“Good morning, everyone,” you greeted your fellow designers, “this is Hoseok. If you don’t know him already, he’s a well-known musician and one of my closest friends.”

Everyone welcomed Hoseok with a warm round of applause.

“Thank you, it’s a pleasure to be here.” Hoseok thanked.

“Hoseok will be helping out here and there while he’s vacationing here for a month,” you explained, “so take it easy on him.”

People shared chuckles at your joke.

"Anyways, let's start looking over the design ideas. You all are very talented artists, and I want you to remember that this is a draft, which means that these ideas are not final. If your idea is rejected, it's okay. We'll continue to work on a collective theme for the show."

The morning was spent listening to everyone's design concepts. To follow your reputation, the designs were contained within suits and gowns. As mentioned before, the theme was Vancouver's nature, where the fashion show would be taking place.

You and your design team used the recycled fabrics—which were separated by colours, textures, and materials—while figuring out your drafts.

You asked your design team to draft some ideas because you couldn't think of anything to present.

You were pleasantly surprised that your whole team had ideas that you approved.

“This a phenomenal,” you awed, “Great job, Erinn.”

“Actually,” you grabbed the attention of the other team members, “you all did a great job. We will be using all these ideas for the show.”

Your team shared cheers.

“Y/N,” Rachel nudged your shoulder, “I’m sorry to ask, but now that we’ve got the designs all in order, what about the models? You wanted to have various body types, right?”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got that covered,” you whispered back.

You turned back to your design team. "You all know that this show is tougher than our last one because we are trying to include more body types, genders, races, just different kinds of people. Which means that we will need to cater our clothes to the models, rather than the other way around.” You smiled, “So you all can go home for the next week.”

You heard Rachel choke on her inhale.

"Although you all have the week off, I want you all to try drawing your designs on other body types. Experiment with materials and colours. Remember to take some of the recycled fabrics home with you, and feel free to come in to pick anything up. Just let Rachel and I know in advance, and we'll give notice to the front desk so they can let you in. When we reconvene in a week, which would be next Friday at nine-thirty, I need you all to be ready to translate your designs, colours, and materials to our models." You ordered.

“Any questions?”

Comfortable silence amongst everyone.

You nodded. "Awesome. Good luck, everyone. Contact me if you have any questions."

Your team started packing up.

“Y/N, does that mean we’re spending the next week casting?” Rachel asked.

“Yes, Rachel. Please contact Westly and schedule lunch tomorrow at noon to discuss modelling criteria. It’s probably going to be pretty loose, but we need to contact Westly before sending it out.” You answered. “If he’s not free at that time, try figuring out something later tomorrow. Then book a reservation for three at Romeo’s.”

“Alright, on it,” Rachel replied.

You turned to Hoseok, who seemed shocked.

“What?” You blushed.

He continued his surprised expression. “I haven’t seen you like this before.”

You chuckled. “How else are you supposed to run a company and organize and execute a fashion show in 3 months?”

Rachel tapped you on the shoulder. "Westly can do lunch tomorrow, at noon, at Romeo's. He and his team secured the venue with Vancouver Fashion Week and are currently collaborating with the interior designers to figure out how the place will look. West said he'll debrief you tomorrow, at lunch, about the rest of the progress."

You smiled. “Great! Thank you, Rachel. You can also take the rest of the day off.”

Rachel appeared to be stunned, not responding to your words.

You waved a hand in front of her face. “Rachel? You can take the rest of the day off.”

“Are you sure, Y/N?” She asked.

You chuckled, “I wouldn’t be telling you to if I wasn’t sure, would I?”

She gave it a thought. “I guess not.”

You grinned. “Just meet me at our main building tomorrow, at eleven-thirty, and we’ll go to Romeo’s together.”

Rachel nodded. “Thank you, Y/N,”

“No worries,” you smiled.

You and Hoseok watched her leave, leaving you two alone in the studio.

“I’m sorry, it passed my mind. You’re okay not joining us for lunch tomorrow, right?” You asked Hoseok.

He dismissed your apology by brushing a hand through the air, “It’s all good. You’ve got your shit to do.” He smiled, “It gives me time to tour around a bit, anyways.”

“Good,” you replied. “So, where to?”

You pulled apart the croissant, eating pieces one at a time. The butteriness covered your tongue in a warmth that mixed well with the iced coffee you and Hoseok shared.

The park was surprisingly empty, despite it being a Friday. Usually, it would be tough to find a spot decently away from others, mostly shaded by trees.

The inlet was a few meters away, allowing you two to see sailboats pass by. People also kayaked and canoed, and you could hear their laughter faintly on land.

Here, you and Hoseok would be shielded by looming trees and away from potential fans of Hoseok. It was a rarity to have those two things when spending time with Hoseok: privacy and security—peace and quiet.

“This is what you wanted to do?” You asked, finishing off the croissant.

He nodded, sipping the iced coffee. “Yeah. It’s quiet and nice here.”

You two people watched, enjoying the breeze and serene environment.

“I was thinking,” you cleared your throat, “about last night. Did you enjoy it?”

Hoseok set down the iced coffee. “Yeah. I always like hanging out with you.”

“I mean—the sex.”

He seemed shocked by your question.

“Yeah, that was good too. Why do you ask? You never brought up before.” He pointed out.

Because I am growing feelings for my childhood friend, who I now have sex with for fun. This wasn't a part of the agreement, I know. We agreed to not grow feelings for each other and just have sex for pleasure. But it's inevitable to develop feelings for someone you have sex for, right? Like, there are probably people out there that can distinguish sex from love—and I guess it started out like that—but for us?

Am I crazy?

“No reason,” you sighed. “I just wanted to know if there was anything I could have done better.”

Hoseok turned his body to you, smiling. “It was perfect.”

He gestured with his arms for a hug, and you obliged. His cologne smelt of freshly peeled oranges; it was a pleasant fragrance, and you found yourself snuggling closer.

.

.

The past month went by in a busy blur.

The model casting went well. You and Westley found fantastic individuals to present your clothing line, which was in the process of being altered to fit those people.

The venue was secured, and the guest list was being made by You and Westley.

“Maybe invite Hoseok,” Westley suggested.  

You shook your head, “I can’t.”

"Why not?" He retorted. "The worse thing he could say is 'no,' and you can invite the whole band." He giggled. "Maybe I can meet Jimin in person."

You chuckled, “So that’s why you want me to invite Hoseok. Just because you made eye contact with Jimin for more than five seconds, it doesn’t mean that he’s into you. He’s straight.”

“How do you know?” Westley had a hand firmly on his hip.

“W-well, I haven’t asked him personally—”

"Then you can't assume he's straight!" Westley exclaimed. "The baseline isn't being heterosexual."

“True. Anyways, let’s get back to the guest list.” You chewed on your lip. “We have Harry Styles, BLACKPINK, Lizzo…”

Both of you ran down the list of a thousand attendees to the show in Vancouver. It was way smaller than fashion week or any of your previous shows, but it wasn't meant to be a big party.

Y/N [14:00]: Hey! Are you free and the boys on March 1st at 1 pm for about four hours, including an after-party until 10 pm, with food?

Hoseok [14:30]: Hiiiiii!! Sorry for the late text. I was asking the others. Yeah! That’s in 4 months? 🧐

Y/N [14:31]: Yeah, it’s for my fashion show. You can ask your company for that time? We’d provide the plane tickets and accommodation. You’d probably stay 3 days and 2 nights? You’d fly in the first day, sleep the one night, then attend the show the second day, sleep the second night, and fly out the 3rd day. I’ll need to know by the end of the week.

Hoseok [14:32]: Sounds good!!! I’ll ask my managers and let you know 👊

Y/N [14:33]: Awesome! Thanks 💚

Hoseok [14:33]: Np 💚

“So, Hoseok and the boys can come, but he has to confirm with his managers. He’ll let me know soon.” You relayed to Westley.

"Great! As long as we get confirmation from Hoseok at the end of this week, we can send out the invitations. We've checked with everyone's management, and they all seem to be busy. Worse comes to worst; we'll just have to move seats around." Westley advised.

He closed his laptop, and you followed.

“Alright, that seems to be all of the guest list business. I’ll get my team to start organizing plane tickets and accommodation.” He sighed, “shall we head to the studio to check on the design team?”

“Yes,” you replied.

Both of you were driven to the studio to check on the design team.

The studio was filled with models of various shades and shapes. Music played quietly in the background, and your coworkers and models grooved to the tunes. Designers pinned fabrics around people’s figures and sketched down measurements and ideas.

You and Westley went around checking on everyone, making sure gowns and suits were well in progress. A smaller group of people created ideas for shoes and were sending them out to shoemakers.

The rest of the day was spent getting to know the models, fixing measurements, finalizing some ideas, and briefing everyone about the plan for the next two months.

"Please have the gowns, suits, and shoes by the end of this month so we can start having the makeup artists consult all of you; to make sure the makeup correlates with the clothes and the models." You informed. "Thank you, everyone, for your amazing work."

Scattered “thank you”s responded, and our workday was over.

“You want to get some drinks?” Westley nudged.

You nodded, frankly too tired to answer but eager for a drink.

Both of you decided to walk to the high-class bar, which allowed private areas in the back for paying customers. You and Westley sat alone, away from the crowds of people near the entrance of the bar.

“To having a productive three months,” Westley sang, holding up his martini.

You sighed, “Cheers,” you tapped your peach Bellini glass against his, admitting a chime.

"Fuck," Westley cursed at the sip of his drink, "they're always stronger than I remember. "Anyways, the show is pretty much underway. Guestlist is handled, the venue is prepped and ready for us, the clothing is almost done. Oooo, I can’t wait to see it all together.”

You nodded.

“You don’t seem so excited, Y/N.”

“I am,” you replied.

“But?”

“I am excited.” You affirmed, although not living up to the word

Westley silenced, knowing when not to push your buttons.

He took a careful sip of his martini. “Where’s Hoseok?”

You fidgeted with your glass. "Hoseok went back to Korea. He only had a month of vacay, so," you left the sentence adrift.

“Did you enjoy his company?”

“Can we not talk about him right now? I rather not mix work and personal life.” You stated.

Westley acknowledged with a firm nod, finishing off his martini and asking for another.

“May I ask a question?”

“Sure.” You replied.

He cringed. “But if I ask, promise me you won’t fire me.”

You turned to him. “Depends on your question. You have to ask me first, then I can decide whether or not to fire you. I cannot make promises.”

“Why are you so off all of a sudden?” He genuinely asked.

You took a deep breath. “I’m not going to fire you, not for a long time. You’re my best worker, and I can’t let you go.”

"I feel like there's going to be a 'but' somewhere. Might as well rip off the Band-Aid." Westley sighed.

You nodded, “You’re right. And you’re right about my mood. I’ve been kind of off lately.”

“Because of Hoseok?”

"Yeah, to be honest." You admitted. "I feel like we're really close—more than just friends. We're on the same wavelength, you know? And whenever we're apart for a long time and then meet up again, it's like time has passed."

“And let me guess, you haven’t told him because you’re afraid to ruin your friendship.”

You scoffed. “There’s no need for sarcasm, West.”

He rolled his eyes and sighed. “I’m just saying, it’s the oldest narrative in the book. One friend is falling for the other, and that one friend doesn’t want to confess their feelings because they’ve known the other person for years and are afraid of ruining that connection.” He took a sip of his martini. “But in the end, it’s two friends just pining over their feelings of love for each other.”

“But we’re different.” You argued.

"I guess so. The narrative doesn't really specify one friend is a famous fashion designer and the other being a famous musician—"

“I mean,” you interrupted, “we have sex every time we see each other.

Westley's mouth fell open in a silent gasp. His hand was placed on his chest, and his eyes stared into yours.

He tipped back his martini into his mouth, finishing it off. “Well, you didn’t mention the friends with benefits part.”

“I know!” You groaned. “That’s why it’s so complicated.”

"Is it really, though? Wouldn't confessing your feelings after you two have had sex so much make it slightly easier? Because it makes sense to grow feelings for someone you've known for a while and have had sex with on multiple occasions." Westley speculated.

“I didn’t say we had sex on multiple occasions—”

“Honey,” he began, “you said you’ve had sex with him every time you see each other, and you two meet a lot. It doesn’t take a detective to figure it out.”

"Anyways," he digressed, "the sooner you tell him, the better. There's no use debating over it for years, then finding out he's found someone else when he would've picked you anyways."

"Gosh, when you say it like that, it sounds like a romantic movie." You cringed, finishing your peach Bellini.

He shrugged. “Well, it kinda is.”

You chuckled. “Well, thanks for the advice.”

“Thank you for filling me in,” he smiled.

.

.

The week went by fast. Your design team was still working on alterations, so you were left brainstorming hair and makeup and contacting specialists in those fields.

You were sitting at home, knee-deep in Pinterest boards when your phone buzzed.

You stopped strolling through your laptop and peered down.

Hoseok [19:30]: We can come to your show!

Y/N [19:30]: Fantastic! I'll let my team know, and we’ll send out the invites.

You texted Westley, informing him that BTS could attend the show.

Westley [19:33]: Great! I'll let the rest of the team know, and we'll send the emails out tomorrow

Y/N [19:34]: Thanks!

Westley [19:35]: Np

You set down your phone and continued to add ideas to your private Pinterest board.

Your phone buzzed again.

Hoseok [19:55]: What are you doing right now?

You were puzzled.

Y/N [19:56]: Nothing much, just brainstorming ideas for the show. You?

Hoseok [19:57]: Just chilling in my room.

Hoseok [20:05]: I miss you

You chuckled at the text, thinking that Hoseok was drunk.

Y/N [20:05]: I miss you too, Hobi.

Hoseok [20:08]: …how much?

Again, you were puzzled by his text.

Y/N [20:10]: Wdym? I miss having you here? Is that what you mean?

Hoseok [20:11]: I mean, do you miss me intimately?

Y/N [20:14]: Like sex-wise?

Hoseok [20:14]: Fuck, I need you, Y/N.

You stared at his words.

Hoseok [20:18]: I miss your body and how perfectly you fit around me.

Your cheeks flushed.

Hoseok [20:21]: Can you video chat? Unless you’re not in the mood.

You panicked.

You were in the mood but weren't presentable. Your hair was messy, and you weren't wearing any makeup, and you were dressed in a hoodie and sweatpants.

Y/N [20:23]: Yeah, I’m in the mood. Just give me 5 mins.

You quickly got out of your seat and ran to your bedroom. You sifted through your closet and found the sexist clothing item you had: a red lingerie set. You quickly undressed and put on the set.

You looked into your full-length mirror and tried not to cringe. Your hair was a mess, and you weren’t wearing any makeup. It definitely looked like Hoseok's text came out of nowhere—and it did, but you somehow expected yourself to be decently presentable.

However, the lingerie set was doing you favours. The set was composed of a crotchless thong and a bralette that exposed your nipples.

Y/N [20:28]: I’m ready.

Your phone rang, and you answered, quickly propping it on your drawers across from your bed.

You were faced with a shirtless Hoseok, his cock already in his hand.

“Fuck, you look amazing.” He complimented breathlessly.

“Wow, you’re ahead of the game—and really? I’m a mess.” You chuckled.

He hissed, flinching in his grip. “Fuck, just take the compliment, Y/N.”

You cleared your throat. “Thank you.”

You sat a pit forward, angling your breasts towards the camera.

“What are you imagining, baby?” You purred.

“Y-You,” he stuttered, moving his hand up and down his cock.

“Mhm,” you moaned, “thinking up my pussy clenching around your cock, making it all wet.”

He nodded.

"You can do something if you want," he suggested. "You said you were in the mood."

Your eyes opened wide. “Wait a minute.”

You brought the phone with you on your journey, going back to your closet and fetching your dildo, lube, and vibrator. You hurried to the bathroom and propped your phone up against the closed door.

You suctioned the bottom of the dildo onto the titled floor. You placed the vibrator on the bathroom counter.

“You want to watch me bounce on this dildo and think of you?” You smirked, rubbing lube onto your hands, onto the toy, and onto your vagina.  

“Fuck, yes,” he replied, stilling his hand around his cock for a moment.

“Did I say you could stop?” You spat.

“I’m waiting for you,” he smiled, making your heart melt.

You paused over the dildo, smiling back at him. “Awww, that’s actually kinda sweet. Thank you.”

You quickly washed your hands and grabbed the vibrator.  

You crouched down and slowly onto the dildo.

“Fuck,” you moaned, tilting your head back at the feeling of being filled up. It didn’t hit the spots Hoseok did, but it was good enough.

You lifted yourself up and sunk back down again, rhythmically repeating the motion.

“Fuck, so good,” you sighed, overlooking the pain in your knees.

“That's right, baby, imagine me filling that pussy up," Hoseok groaned, following your rhythm while pumping his cock.

“Fuck yes,” you replied, “and I’m clenching around you so tight.”

You two exchanged moans at the sound of your pussy squelching around the dildo.

“Use the vibrator, baby,” Hoseok purred.

You hummed, grabbing the rose gold vibrator and turning it on. You place the buzzing toy on your clit, feeling pleasure rippling through your core.

“Fuck,” you hissed, speeding up your pace a bit.

“I-I’m getting close.”

“Yeah, baby?” Hoseok smirked. “You get off at me rubbing my cock? Imagining me buried inside your pussy, making you feel so good?"

You nodded. “But it’s not as you, baby.”

“I know—” He choked, appearing to be on the brink of his climax. “I fucking miss the way your pussy fit so well around me, no matter how many times I fucked you open.”

“Mhm,” you bit your lips, watching him with hooded eyes. “Don’t stop.”

“Who knew you were filthy enough to cum during cybersex?" He observed. "I'm not even there to touch you, but just thinking of me inside has you in ruins.”

“What would you do if I was with you right now?” You asked.

“I would fuck you until you couldn’t walk the next day,” he replied, “I’d fuck you until that pretty pussy is swollen.”

"F-fuck, I'm going to cum," you stuttered, feeling the familiar build-up in your core.

“M-me too,” he stammered.

You watched his head tilt back in pleasure and his cum squirt up from his cock.

“Fuck!” You cursed, feeling your pleasure shoot out of your core and onto the floor

“So hot,” Hoseok sighed.

You chuckled, coming down from high. You pulled yourself up and off the dildo, sitting on the cool tile floor.

“Fuck, did you squirt?” He asked, looking closer.

You nodded, gesturing to the mess on the ground.

“Spread your legs for me, baby,” he commanded and obliged, showing him your battered cunt.

You spread your lips, and he hummed at sight.

“So beautiful.” He awed.

“You happy? I need to wipe this all up, now,” you scoffed.

He chuckled. “It’s not my fault that you cummed.” He angled his phone to the floor, showing splashes of his cum on the floor, "and besides, you also made me make a mess.”

You both chatted while cleaning up your messes, talking about your days as if nothing happened. After finishing your clean-up, you two continued your conversation while showering, as if both of you were doing it together.

Ready to relax for the night, both of you signed off with exchanged ‘thanks’ and ‘good night.’

You turned off your phone with a soft click and stepped out of the steamy bathroom. Your pyjamas were soft on your skin, and you felt ready to go to bed.

Hopping onto your bed, you grabbed your laptop and turned on some Netflix to fall asleep to.

From an outsider’s perspective, masturbating with your best friend and then casually talking with them while showering and getting ready for bed was odd. Repeating the scenario in your mind did make it sound like you two were in a long-distance romantic relationship rather than a platonic one.

But you and Hoseok were different. That was your excuse.

A friend could do this and not catch feelings. You two were the perfect example of that.

Emphasis on were because you were currently spiralling in your growing romantic feelings for Hoseok.

But what would you do in this situation?

You and your childhood friend engage in sex one time and promise each other to not grow feelings. In this manner, you two could have sex without attachment. Fast forward into the future, and you both are still making this arrangement with no negative consequences and feel like you two have gotten to know each other better and have become better friends—until you catch feelings. And you don’t want to risk losing this relationship you two have.

Because he is a worldwide musician who can’t be tied down because it could risk his career, and he might lose fans—and you couldn't be bothered with any romantic commitment with your fast-paced and unpredictable work schedule.

So, you stay in this unnameable mess.

.

.

“Time flies by when you’re having fun,” Allie commented from the plush couch.

You looked in the mirror, twisting your back towards it to see the back of the dress. “I guess so.”

“You have to admit, planning a fashion show is pretty fun,” she said. “If it wasn’t, you wouldn’t be doing it over and over again.”

“True,” you replied, turning to the stylist.

“May I see the other dress?” You asked, and the stylist nodded, retreating to somewhere in the shop you couldn’t see.

It was the last month until the show. Everything was in order: the show’s venue and its decorations, the clothes, makeup and hair for the models, and the guests’ accommodation. Now, it was your turn to find suitable attire for the occasion.

You tried on the next dress. It was a slim-fitting number, with a leg slit in the front. It was scandalous and stunning, but not right for the show.

“I don’t like any of these dresses,” you sighed, annoyed.

Allie appears to brainstorm some ideas.

“Maybe try a suit?” She proposed.

You kept your eyes on the mirror, twirling your figure and watching the fabric move at your feet.

“Think about it,” she began, “think of all the powerful women who’ve worn suits and killed it. Zendaya, Kristen Stewart, Blake Lively, Awkwafina. The list goes on. It’s a statement piece, and you’re the big brain behind this operation.”

“I think it’s ‘mastermind behind this operation,’ but I get what you mean.” You corrected.

“You literally bypassed my whole point—”

“I know, I know,” you interrupted. “It’s just—suits for women are so overpriced. And it’s just like the dresses, except a different fit. Same colour palettes, same materials, so on.”

Allie scoffed. "You're a fucking fashion designer, did you forget? Make your own thing. There are leftover fabrics at your studio; you have time to make something." Her face lit up, “And, technically, it’s for free.”

You gave it a thought, but the stylist came back before you could finish it.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Vega, but I’m not finding anything, and I don’t want you walking back and forth and bringing me more dresses.” You gave an apologetic smile. “Thank you very much for your help.”

"No worries, Y/N! Just hang up the dress when you take it off, and I’ll deal with the rest,” she replied.

“Will do,” you said, and she stepped out of the room.

Allie helped you unzip the gown, and you shimmed out of it. You did as you were told and hung up the dress, and you and Allie left the shop.

The walk back to the studio was quick, you two making determined strides through the crowded city.

You and Allie entered the empty studio, turning on the nights.

The studio was organized chaos with dressed mannequins, big boxes of fabrics in the back of the room, and papered patterns on the tables.

“Wow,” Allie awed.

"Yeah," you replied, leading you both to your master station is near the back, "it's crazy what a couple months before a show looks like.”

You looked through the drawers beside your desks and grabbed the tools you'll need to plan out the suit.

“So, just a suit jacket and pants…” You said, grabbing some paper to sketch up your pattern.

You looked up at Allie, “Do you mind helping me out with measurements?”

She nodded, “For sure. What do you need?”

You guided Allie on how to measure your proportions for the suit. She measured your inseams for your pants, the sleeves, the cuts, and so on. In between, you'd write down the dimensions for the patterns.

You two sifted through the fabrics to create a monochrome patchwork outfit. The suit would be shades of cherry red, with different materials making it up. There were no patterns in the patchwork, only various tones of red in several types of wool.

“Fucking hell,” Allie cursed while sifting through the materials, “who would’ve thought there were so many shades of red.”

She held up a piece of recycled fabrics, checking with you that it was the correct tone. You took it and held the portion against the others.

“Nope, too dark,” you shook your head.

"What? It looks exactly the same," she disagreed, walking over to your table. When comparing the fabrics, she made an 'aaah’ sound, letting you know that you were right.

Before sectioning off your pattern, you tried your best to evenly sew all the material together into a quilt-like form.

“Jesus,” you muttered, shaking out your sore hands.

“We don’t have to get this all done today, you know. You do have two months left.” Allie advised.

"I know. I just want to put this all together first," you replied, continuing to push the material through the sewing machine.

“Alright,” she surrendered, bringing one of the seats over to your table.

You sewed in silence for a bit.

“So,” Allie began, “how are you and Hoseok doing?”

You paused. “What do you mean?”

“You know…you two and your arrangement.”

You scoffed, “Our arrangement? You mean us having sex?”

“Yeah, but the other stuff.”

You pulled your hands from the sewing machine, crossing your arms over your chest. "Just spit it out, Al."

“Well, you’ve had mixed feelings with Hoseok, right? Like you’re starting to like him?” She speculated.

Your mouth gaped open. “Have you been talking to West?”

She didn’t respond, not making eye contact.

“You can’t be fucking serious. You two are ganging up on me!” You yelled.

“Y/N, we’re just worried.”

“About what? I have feelings—and?” You fumed.

She sighed. “You shouldn’t be having sex with someone if you’re growing romantic feelings, especially if you two agreed to be platonic.”

“Oh, fuck off,” you stood.

“Y/N!” She exclaimed. "Don't you dare talk to me that way? I am your friend, not your enemy." Allie stood up and sighed. “I get it. You don’t like people in your business. That’s fair. I just feel like you're sacrificing yourself for Hoseok when you could talk about it with him."

“Allie, you don’t know what you’re fucking talking about.” You spat.

“I get it,” she sympathized. “I don’t. I’m not you or Hoseok.”

“So, tell me,” she said. “Educate me on the situation. I am not here to judge. I’m just worried about you, that’s all.”

You took a few deep breaths, trying to calm yourself down.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized. “I shouldn’t have talked to you like that.”

“It’s okay,” she forgave, “just don’t push me away so fast, okay?”

“Okay.” You agreed.

She sat down, “So?”

You sat down and rehashed your feelings about you and Hoseok to her: the growing romantic feelings for him, not knowing what to do, and wanting something more.

“Well, do you think it’d work out between you two if you dated?” She asked.

You shifted in your seat. "I honestly don't know. It's tough with Hoseok's work because he has a loyal fanbase. I'm afraid he's going to get even more hate if we were to date.”

“But would you two be happy?” She asked.

You gave it a thought. “What do you mean?”

“Well, you go into a relationship regardless of other people. Whether you’re a celebrity or an ordinary person, you date someone for you and that person; no one else. There are going to be people who support and hate your relationship no matter what. What matters is what the two people think in the relationship."

She sighed. “You cannot control what others will think about you. No matter what you do or who you do, you're going to upset someone. So, just do what feels comfortable and safe with you."

You hummed, understanding.

“So, would you be happy if you and Hoseok dated?”

“Yes.” You stated without a thought. “I really like him—love him even.”

"Then that's all that matters," Allie replied.

.

.

The week before, the show crept on you faster than you expected. You, your team of designers and event organizers, models, hairstylists and makeup artists flew into Vancouver a week early to prepare on location.

However, the majority of the week would be spent preparing for the show. The first day was spent unloading all of the outfits and equipment for the show into the venue. Everyone was required to show up to organize their stations and to familiarize themselves with the venue.

“Please set up your stations while Westley and I look into the main runway and after part section. We’ll be back in around two hours to check up on everyone. If you have any questions while we're gone, please contact me on my phone." You held up your cellphone and everyone nodded. "Great. Good luck, everyone!"

The venue and interior designers' owners toured you and Westley around the place, showing you the drawn floorplans, running down the prices, and checking that the decorations correlated with your plans.

“These weren’t the chairs we sent over,” Westley pointed to the black folded chairs lining the runways.

“Yes, but these were within the price range and—” One of the interior designers, Queeny, said.

“But did we get an email regarding this change?” You interjected.

Queeny exchanged looks with the other three decorators, and they shook their heads.

Wesley let out an angry sigh. "Well, I guess we’ll have to live with these then.” He sat down on one of the chairs. “At least they’re comfortable. They look cheap, but they’re sturdy.”

“Are there any more changes you made without informing as?” You asked.

They all shook their heads.

"Great." You turned to one of the two-venue owners, named Ruby. "Shall we continue to the after-party part?”

“Yes,” she replied, gesturing to the doorway that led to the front reception area.

From the reception area, where guests would check-in and get a wristband, a double-door way on the right led to a ballroom for the after-party.

The overall theme of the place was classic European designs with off-white luxurious walls and chandeliers. The ceilings were intricately carved, and the floors were a smooth white oak. Just walking around made you feel like you were dirtying the place.

“This place is stunning,” Westley whispered.

“I know,” you replied, “you chose the place.”

“I know,” he smiled, pretending to flip his hair.

You both chuckled, continuing to follow the owners around the venue.

Everything worked out, besides the chairs, so you and Westley checked on the designers, models, hairstylists and makeup artists.

At the end of the workday, everyone was in order and ready for the next three days of dress rehearsals and solving and problems.

You arrived back at your hotel with sore feet and exhaustion.

Your phone rang as you flopped onto your bed.

You answered. “Hobi!”

“Y/N! How was your flight to Vancouver?” He asked.

“It was good. We didn't have a rest day, though. We had to settle into the place and check it over. My feet are so sore.” You groaned.

“Really? I thought you’d at least have a rest day when you guys arrived,” he assumed.

You shook your head. “No. Sadly, this whole week will be walking around and making sure everything is going smoothly.”

He sighed. “Shit. That sucks.” You heard him shift on the other side of the phone. “Do you want to relax?”

You laughed. “Jung Hoseok, did you seriously booty call me from across the world?”

Hoseok gasped, "I did not! I was talking about watching Netflix or something." He chuckled, "You're so dirty-minded."

You both laughed.

“Okay, so what do you want to watch?” He asked on the other end of the call.

You brought out your laptop and scrolled through the movie selection.

“Oooo! Let’s watch Hush. I’ve heard so many good things about it.” You recalled.

You could hear his hesitation.

Hoseok did not like being scared. Whenever you watched anything scary, you were afraid that your neighbours would complain at how loud his screaming was. As you remembered saying "hello" to him once and him screaming in fear and surprise, he was also easily frightened.

“We don’t have to,” you said.

“No, no,” Hoseok reassured, “we’ll watch it. Just send me the Netflix Party link, and I'll ready the Zoom link."

You giggled. “You don’t have to be brave for me, Hobi. I know you don’t like scary movies.”

“You want to watch it, so let’s do it,” he said, “and the ratings are good.”

“Okay,” you digressed. “I’m texting you the link right now.”

“Same,” he replied.

You two hung up and joined the links.

“Hello!” Hoseok beamed, dancing.

You rolled your eyes and chuckled at his burst of energy. “Hello, Hobi.”

You carried your laptop to the bathroom and began getting ready for bed.

“How was your day?” You asked.

Hoseok described him and his bandmates' film day for "Run! BTS," and you groaned at all the work they had to do.

He laughed. “But we got to play games, which was fun. We laughed so much that my abs hurt.” You watched him lift up his shirt and show his toned abdomen.

Your core felt a familiar flutter.

“W-wow, that must be a lot of laughing,” you cleared your throat and took out your toothbrush and toothpaste.

For the moment, the time difference worked for you two because it was almost ten at night for you and nearly three in the afternoon for him.

“Should I turn off my camera?” You asked before undressing to get into the shower.

He shook his head. “I’m okay with you leaving it on. I’ve seen you naked before, so it’s not really different. But if you’re uncomfortable, you can just turn it off.”

You shrugged and began taking off your clothes in full view of the camera and screen.

You noticed Hoseok’s expression.

“Enjoying the show?” You chuckled, finally taking off your undergarments and fully exposing yourself.

Hoseok smirked, “Don’t act like you weren’t just turned on by my abs. I saw how you looked at me.”

You nodded and surrendered. “Fair point.”

You hoped in the shower, and you two continued talking.

“Jesus, we haven’t started the movie yet,” Hoseok commented while you were washing your hair.

“Shit, right,” you laughed, massaging the shampoo into your scalp.

After you hoped out of the shower and dried your body and hair, you both started to watch the movie.

“This is a pretty cool premise. Like, we’ve never seen a deaf person in a horror movie before,” you regarded.

"True, that's a good point—AHHHHHH!" Hoseok screamed at the sudden slam in the movie.

You burst into laughter.

“Holy shit!” He exclaimed, trying to calm himself with controlled breaths.

The movie continued as you finished off your skincare and put on your pyjamas.

The oversized t-shirt was long enough to cover your thighs.

“You’re going to watch this before bed?” Hoseok gasped.

You chuckled. “Yeah. It’s not that scary.” You say as you jump at the sound of breaking glass in the film.

Hoseok laughed at the coincidental timing.

You don’t remember falling asleep, but you woke up to the sound of your alarm.

“Shit,” you grumbled and turned it off.

You heard Hoseok stir awake on the Zoom call.

Both of you had fallen asleep, but Hoseok finished the movie before you could; because you saw the end credits paused in the Netflix Party.

“Sorry,” you whispered.

“It’s okay,” Hoseok mumbled, squinting at the screen.

“I’ll let you sleep,” you smiled, hovering your cursor over the "send" button.

He softly smiled, “thank you.” He snuggled into his pillow, “I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too, Hobi,” you replied, ending the call for both of you.

It didn’t hit you until you were halfway through your dress rehearsal, but Hoseok had stayed with you while you slept. He didn't wake you but quietly continued the movie and fell asleep.

Hoseok was usually sweet, so you didn't pay too much attention to it.

But it did make you feel special.

.

.

It was the day of the fashion show, and you were fucking nervous.

You had done this before, a show, but this one was different. You had put in so much effort and were proud of how it turned out but were afraid of what other people would think.

“It’ll be fine, don’t worry,” Allie assured through video call,” it’ll be excellent, and everyone won’t stop talking about it.”

“Probably,” you replied, putting on your makeup.

“It will be excellent, Y/N. I am so sure I will bet money.” She stated.

You chuckled, "then I'll take your word for it because I am not bidding money.”

You both laughed.

“Okay, I know I already showed you my outfit, but are you sure it looks good?” She asked, putting on the A-line floor-length dress she’d shown you before. It was a beautiful viridian green with lace shoulder straps that draped over the sides of her biceps.

“You look beautiful,” you complimented, setting your makeup with setting spray and heading to your closet.

You put on the suit you made and looked in the mirror. You looked a bad bitch.

“You look great! Oooo, put on the red bottoms,” Allie squealed.

You put on the signature Louis Vuitton black high heels with the ruby bottoms.

Your phone buzzed.

“I got to go; Westley is here with our ride to the venue. I’ll see you there!”

“See you!” She waved, ending the call.

You did a quick check in the mirror, fixing your hair, grabbed your bags, and headed out the door.

Your driver waited outside the vehicle as you approached, and opened its door, showing you a well-dressed and excited Westley.

"Oh my god, you look great!" He gasped. “When did you make the suit?”

“I finished it a week before we flew out,” you chuckled, “and you look great too! I love the pine on you.”

You took a step back and looked at Westley’s crisp pine-coloured suit with matching brown dress shoes.

“Thank you,” he grinned. “Okay, get in before we become late.”

You hopped into the car, and your driver got in and started the vehicle.

The drive was spent recalling your opening and closing speeches with Westley and the show's agenda.

“So, five pm is when the show ends, and then the guests for the after-party go into the ballroom area. Food is served at six pm, and everything is wrapped up at ten pm.” Westley relayed.

You nodded, “Yup.”

Both of you arrived a couple hours before the start time, which was at 1 pm, to set everything up and warm up the models and crew.

Westley checked the organizers and the models while you went to the runway area to check the lights and sound.

"Let's rerun the lights, please!" You announced as you walked into the runway room. "Can I get a headset, please?" You ask the crew on the ground, who nodded.

“Yup!” You heard the lighting crew respond.

You were given the headset, and you heard the head light technician’s voice.

“Can you hear me?” They checked.

“Yes,” you confirmed.

They ran by the six light settings for the show, and it was all correct.

“It’s perfect, thank you. Can you please check that the sound is alright?” You asked through the headset.

“Yup. You’ll have to hand the headset to another person, though, and we’ll give you a mic.” They added.

You heard their muffled voice as if they covered their mic's headset with their hand. Next, you had someone hand you a mic and take your headset.

“You’ll need to stand on the stage,” The person said.

“Okay,” you replied, going to the runway and standing on the end portion.

All the room’s lights turned on, and you could see the lighting crew’s area in the back and the chair organized around the runway.

“You can speak into the mic!” You heard someone shout.

You started speaking nonsense in the mic, like the type of weather outside, as they adjusted the volume.

“Thank you!” Someone shouted.

“Thanks,” you said into the mic before handing it to one of the crew.

“Is there anything to report? Any problems that arose before I got here?” You asked the crew.

They all shook their heads.

“How is everyone feeling?” You asked.

They all shared nervous laughter, and a few people said “good.”

“Alright, if there’s anything you all need, just come to the modelling area and ask me. It’s in the backroom.”

They all nodded, and you left them to their business.

You arrived in the backroom and saw designers fitting their outfits on the models and makeup artists and hairstylists prepping their stations.

“How is everybody doing?!” You enthusiastically asked.

They cheered with a mix of excitement and nervousness.

"I get it. Everyone is on their toes. You all have an hour left to set things up before people start filing in. Remember, the show starts at 1 pm. The door opens thirty minutes before them.”

They call responded with various forms of understanding, and you went around to check on them individually.

Rachel came and taped your shoulder, with a headset on, “So, the guards are in their posts, and the front is ready to check people in.”

“Is there a line already?” You asked.

Rachel pressed down the headset, asking the crew on the other end.

“Yes, there’s a line of people outside,” she reported, “about twenty people, so far.”

"Shit, yeah, let them in. It's probably cold." You ordered.

“I’ll tell them,” she replied.

“Okay, everyone! We’re starting to let people in. Again, you all have about an hour left, so try to wrap things up and relax. Thank you!” You announced.

Again, sounds of understanding, and you, Westley, and Rachel left the backroom.

“Rachel, Westley and I are going to check that the ballroom area and catering are all handled. Please check in with the front desk to see how they're doing, and then meet us in the ballroom." You told.

“Got it, Y/N,” Rachel answered, walking past the two of you and towards the front area.

Westley appeared impressed. “She's terrific. She's even got the headset and everything."

"I know, right? She's cool." You remarked.

Like clockwork, you and Westley ran over the details and schedule for the catering and the after-party. Everyone had places to sit, with elegantly decorated name cards.

Everything was ready.

"Fantastic, thank you," you thanked the caterers and the staff in the ballroom. "Feel free to come into the runway area during the show if you all would like to watch."

With that, it was about time the show would start. You and Westley hurried backstage, where you both were handed microphones.

The lights dimmed, and classical music played—fitting the theme of elegance and high class.

You and Westley regarded each other, did an excellent handshake, and strutted out on the runway. Both of you were met with applause from the crowd and blinding spotlights.

You two walked to the end of the runway and let out an exhausted sigh.

The music quieted, faintly heard in the background.

“And that’s why I’m not a model,” Westley joked, causing the crowd to giggle.

“Same here,” you chuckled.

“Anyways, welcome to the show, everyone!” You cheered, and the crowd clapped. “As you know, I am Y/N, and this is Westley. Today, we’ll be showing recycled elegant clothes on people. Not just models, but people. All the clothes you'll be seeing here today are made from recycled fabrics and hand-crafted by our design team and me."

Applause.

"We wanted to represent people, so we got people to present our clothes. Redundant, I know, but the fashion industry rarely shows models that look like people. Don’t get me wrong, they’re all fantastic. However, this show will be different. Enjoy!” Westley waved.

A final round of applause while you and Westley walked off the runway.

The show went smoothly and wonderfully. The changes were fluid, and there were no clothing mishaps. The classical music turned into upbeat music that everyone seemed to groove to. Models danced on the runway while walking, and there were joyful cheers in the crowd.

In the end, you and Westley gave your brief thank you speeches, and months of planning and work were officially completed.

When everyone was backstage, you all collectively cheered.

“Phenomenal job, everyone!” You praised. “I am speechless at how well we all did. Thank you all for being such wonderful people to work with.”

Smiles and cheers were shared as everyone got ready for the after-party.

“Okay, remember that food is being served at six o’clock, and you all will be able to find your names at a table.” You reminded.

You and Westley did a quick check-up on people before heading to the ballroom area to socialize.

“Great job, you two!” Some complimented.

You and Westley thanked the praise and had a small talk with some colleges.

“Hey, Y/N!” You heard a familiar voice say.

You turned and say Hoseok with the rest of the boys, waving.

“Hey!” You smiled, nudging Westley to join you.

"Well, enjoy the after-party," Westley grinned at the other guests before joining you.

As always, the seven boys were well-dressed in designer suits. Hoseok wore lightly tinted shades paired with a dark suit and floral dress shirt. His hair was wavy.

“That was awesome, Y/N,” Namjoon said.

“Thank you!” You replied.

“Yeah, Y/N, I loved the recycled-fabrics idea. Are anything on sale?” Taehyung asked.

You nodded. "Everything will be on sale next month. I'll send you the dates, so you mark them in your calendar. The clothes go fast," you chuckled.

“Damn,” Taehyung remarked, eyebrows raised.

“Hey, Jimin,” Westley greeted.

“Hey West,” Jimin smiled, “loved your speech today. That suit looks great on you.”

“I know,” Westley smirked, “you look good too.”

"How are you feeling?" Hoseok asked, letting Westley and Jimin casually flirt.

You sighed. “Glad that it’s over, to be honest. It was fun, of course, but it's a lot of work to organize."

“Oh my god, is that Charlie Puth?” Jungkook gasped, hiding slightly behind Namjoon.

Everyone laughed.

"You should go and say 'hi,' Kook. You've already met and sung with him before. You two are practically friends." Yoongi expressed.

“True,” you agreed, “and Charlie’s a nice guy.”

“Okay,” Jungkook straightened his posture, “I’ll do it.”

You all watched Jungkook walk over and begin chatting with Charlie Puth.

“God, he’s grown up so much,” Seokjin sighed.

The rest of you caught up and chatted about the show.

Before you knew it, Westley was poking your side to let you know it was five minutes until six.

“Shit,” you cursed. “Sorry to cut this convo short, but Westley and I have to announce dinner. We’ll talk soon!”

You all said your goodbyes, and you and Westley went up to the front to state it was time for food.

You two were seated with Rachel, Allie, and a couple others. Everyone ordered off a menu, which served various kinds of pasta, salads, and a mix of alcoholic and non-alcoholic beverages.

It was an excellent way to end off the show.

There was a dancefloor, too, where people could groove to music after eating.

Of course, the seven boys went to the dancefloor, which caused others to join.

You were finishing off your fettuccine alfredo when Hoseok danced over to your table. You chuckled as he held his hand out and quirked a brow.

“You’re ridiculous,” you said, taking his hand.

“You love it,” he smirked, pulling you off your chair and leading you to the dancefloor.

You danced together, along with your friends. He held your hands as you two swayed to the slow songs and body-rolled with you during the upbeat songs. Of course, a few BTS songs played, and everyone tried to follow the known choreography. You went back to your table for a drink of water, and Allie came with you. "Look, and you and Hoseok dancing up a storm," she teased. “Shut up,” you chuckled. “The chemistry is there, Y/N,” she commented. You drank your water. "Not now, Al." “Come on! He’s here for, what, the night and then gone tomorrow morning? When will you see him again?” She asked. You paused, honestly unsure when you'd see Hoseok again. “Now or never, Y/N. How much longer can you debate this?” “I know,” you replied. “I’ll do it later tonight.” Around nine-thirty, the party was dying down, with only a few guests scattered around the venue helping to clean up. You made eye contact with Allie, who was tending to the chairs, who nudged towards Hoseok’s direction. Now or never. You said in your head. “Can I speak to you, Hoseok?” You asked, walking up to him. “For sure!” He replied. You led both of you to a secluded part of the venue, away from listeners. “Did you enjoy the show?” You asked. “Yeah! You did a fantastic job, Y/N. I love how everything turned out, the colours, the recycled fabrics were great—and your suit! I can’t believe you made it,” Hoseok complimented, stepping back to look at your attire. “Thank you,” you blushed. You gave a quick look around to make sure no one was around. “Is everything alright, Y/N? You’re looking around as if they’re spies around.” He gasped. “Are there spies around? What secret don’t they know?” “I don’t want to have sex with you anymore.” You abruptly stated. A stretch of silence. Hoseok’s expression was a mixture of surprise and concern. “What?” “I can’t have sex with you anymore.” “You can’t or don’t want to? Is it something I did?” “Yes? No? In a way?” You pondered. You took a few deep breaths. "I like you, Hoseok—possibly even love you.” You ran your hand through your hair. “I know we agreed not to catch feelings, so I think we should stop having sex.” You watched his expression shift from some form of being happy to disappointment. “You know I cannot date with work,” he explained, "with the fans, touring, and whatnot, I cannot date someone. And you have your company to work on." “I know,” you replied. “But do you like me back?” You asked. “I do—” “You do?” You were on the verge of hugging him, but he stepped back. You looked at him, confused. “We can’t—” “Why?” “I literally just told you, Y/N. With work, dating wouldn’t allow it. I already have people—” He choked on his words. “People who wish I was dead, j-just for being me.” “Hoseok—” You reached out to him, but he gently pushed you away. “No,” he objected, “I’m fine. I just don’t want to add you to the mess.” “You can’t decide that for me.” You retorted. “I understand that you don’t want to add me to it, but I’m okay with it. I don't care what other people would say about us. They're not in the relationship, we are—" “But what if I care?” He said, almost too quiet for you to hear. “I’m the happy guy of BTS, who’s dedicated to his work.” “But are you truly happy?” You peered into him. “Yeah,” he replied, avoiding eye contact, “but it gets really hard sometimes.” “So, let me help, Hoseok,” you pleaded. "I don't need to be helped! I'm not another project for you to work on.” He thundered. “You know that’s not what I meant.” You seethed. “Let’s just drop it, okay? We’re not dating, that’s it.” He dictated. “Fine.” You replied. “Have a safe trip back home.” You left without another word, trying your best not to cry. Out of all the ways you thought he'd respond, this took you off guard. Hoseok wasn't one to push you away, but here he was doing so. “Fuck this,” you whimpered, walking up to Allie. “I’m going back to the hotel, sorry,” you said, turning away as soon as possible. “Y/N!”

You washed your face and hoped into the shower—the warm water soothing your sore muscles and emotions. You couldn’t tell if it was the water or your tears streaming down your face.

What else did you expect? Hoseok had a point: with his work, he couldn’t date someone. And it was ridiculous that Hoseok would want to date you.

However, instead of sulking over Hoseok, you decided to have a bath and put on a facemask.

The room’s phone rang while you were starting the bath.

“Hello?”

“Hello, is this Y/N Y/L/N?

“Speaking,” you confirmed.

“Great! There’s a man here, named,” a muffled noise, “Hoseok Jung.”

“Tell him I’m busy, please,” you replied.

Another muffled noise. “Hoseok says he's sorry and that he has ice cream—cookie dough. But if he’s dangerous, I can call the police.”

“No, no. God no,” you said.

You bit your lip. "You can send Hoseok up."

“Okay. However, if there’s anything wrong, please try to press the red button on the receiver. I will check back with you in an hour. If there’s no response, I’ll get someone to check on you.” They informed.

“Thank you,” you replied, slightly shocked by their concern.

You hung up.

A few minutes later, you heard a knock on the door. You tightened your robe.

You checked the peephole before cracking the door open.

“Hi,” you greeted.

“Hey," he smiled. "I'm sorry for leaving you like that at the party. It was sudden and insensitive. I should have been more considerate of your feelings rather than shutting you off.”

“I was just—scared. I don’t know what it’s going to be like for us. And I don't want you to fix me—but I like you, a lot—so I brought cookie dough ice cream and two spoons—"

“Do you want to come in?” You interrupted his nervous rambling.

“Yes, thank you,” he chuckled.

Hoseok still wore the suit from the fashion show, but his jacket was folded over his arm, and his dress shirt was unbuttoned lower.

“Oh, you’re running the bath,” he noticed. "We can deal with this later if it's a bad time."

“No, it’s alright. I’ll just turn off the water.” You replied, going to the bathroom to do so.

When you came back, Hoseok was sitting on the edge of your bed.

“So, what did you want to talk about?” You asked, sitting beside him.

He opened the ice cream tub, setting the lid on the desk and handing you one of the spoons.

“I was thinking you could talk more, actually; about how you feel," he replied, giving you the tub and angling himself to face you. "I just want to listen to you this time."

You gave a brief smile before spooning a small piece of ice cream into your mouth.

“Well, I just feel like we’re in this grey area of being really close but having sex. And we both like each other, and we said at the venue, and I just feel like we should just date then.” You set the ice cream and spoon down on the desk. “I get that work complicates things for you. But once we’ve confessed our feelings, I just don’t know what to call this—this friendship?”

Hoseok nodded.

"So, if you don't want to date, that's completely fine. I understand. However, we can't keep having sex like we used to; because I have feelings for you now, and you said you do too, so it's not a good mix."

“That’s fair,” he acknowledged.

“But what do you think? Like, how do you feel about us?” You asked.

He paused and set his spoon on the desk with yours. “I want to date you, Y/N. I just don’t want to get you hurt.” He softly grasped your hands. “The industry can be toxic, and I don’t want to subject you to that.”

“I understand,” you replied, “but I want to date you too, regardless of all the other bullshit. As cheesy as it sounds, all I want is you, Hoseok.”

Hoseok smiled but then pretended to gag.

“Hobi! I was romantic."

“Sorry, but that was so cheesy.” He cringed.

“So, do you want to just start dating, then?” You proposed. “We have the ice cream here; we can pretend to get to know each other more.”

He chuckled. “Sure. Let’s do that.”

Hoseok stood up and held his hand out to you. “Y/N Y/L, will you go on a date with me?”

You laughed but composed yourself. “I would love to, Jung Hoseok.” You took his hand, and he immediately sat back down.

“So, Y/N,” Hoseok began, handing you the partially melted ice cream and your spoon, “what do you like to do on the weekends?”

.

.

1 year later.

“I’m thinking of moving to Korea,” you said. Hoseok turned to you, surprised. “Really? But you’re not based here.” “I know,” you acknowledged, “but I can fly in and skype, or whatever. I can have a home base here, too.” You were visiting Hoseok for a couple weeks before you had to go back home for a clothing launch. Both of you were cuddling at his place when you brought up your idea of moving to Korea. “Of course, it wouldn’t be immediate. I would need to sort things out with Westley and Rachel and organize a place to stay here and a work area. The company is sturdy enough to handle the change.” You reasoned. “You could move in with me,” he suggested, turning his body to face you. “Are you sure?” “Yeah, why not. We’ve been dating for a while now, and it makes sense.” He shrugged. “Unless you don’t want to.” You kissed him. “No, I want to.” Both of you discussed what your move would be like and imagined living together. If you were to look back at how your relationship with Hoseok progressed, you would be shocked. In a matter of a few months, you and Hoseok went from friends to romantic partners. Although you had not come out publicly about your relationship, many people had a sense it existed; but that didn’t matter. You and Hoseok were in a secure and healthy relationship. It was long distanced, but you two made it work by visiting each other when you could and calling almost every day. The only thing that didn’t change was the sex—although it had gotten better. Nevertheless, so much has happened over the past year. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[let-it-raines]

I Hope We Never See October (8/12)

When his personal life and football career go up in flames, Killian Jones escapes England for America, finding seclusion in Martha’s Vineyard in order to hide from his demons. It’s a fresh start, or at the very least a paused moment in his life, and all he needs is a few months alone to allow his heart to heal. He doesn’t count on meeting Emma Swan.

Emma’s life depends on tourists who come to the island every summer. It’s how she makes her money working in restaurants and clubs across the vineyard, but every year, she cannot wait until autumn comes and her life returns to normal. She especially cannot wait for Killian Jones to leave.

Rating: Mature

a/n: Okay, so that cliffhanger, huh? I thought our mystery guests were obvious, but then again, I'm writing the story. But We'll answer all those questions here!

AO3: Beginning | Current Tumblr: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8

-/-

Killian’s side of the bed is cold when Emma’s alarm goes off. She expects him to still be there either sleeping or on his phone – he seems to do most of his work in the mornings when he doesn’t want to get out of bed – but he’s not there.

She hates herself a little bit for even noticing the cool feel of the sheets beneath her fingertips.

Emma groans and stretches her legs out, wondering how much time she has to go back to sleep before she absolutely has to go into work. She squints at her phone. She’s got two hours before she has to be at work. She could definitely sleep for another hour and a half and then look like shit at work. That might be nice, actually.

But then she smells something cooking downstairs, and almost on cue, her stomach growls.

Slowly, she gets out of bed, and the floor is cold against her bare feet. She should really go take a shower before she goes downstairs, and despite the good smell, she goes into the bathroom and quickly showers, leaving her hair dry. It’s curly and a bit frizzy from leaving it wet after her shower at the Nolans’ last night, but that’s a problem for another time…tomorrow. She’ll make it look better tomorrow. Emma grabs a pair of shorts and a button-down, putting them both on, and she pulls out a pair of sandals from her closet for later. She’s not as presentable as she should be, but maybe she can stay in her office and away from customers.

Besides, this is better than what it could have been had she not at least rinsed off the remaining sunscreen and sweat from her skin.

Emma smooths down her shirt and fluffs her hair. There’s the slightest bit of red on her chest from Killian’s beard, so she buttons up one more button before heading downstairs. From the smell of it, Killian is either cooking pancakes or waffles, and she’ll take either.

As far as her seasonal friends with benefits go, Killian is definitely the winner.

For the breakfast, the sex, and maybe the conversation. She thought about that for too long yesterday, and it’s too damn early for her to be thinking about any of this today. All she wants is food and coffee, so that’s all she’s thinking about. It’s all she can.

“Damn, Jones,” Emma shouts from the top of the stairs, “something smells delicious.”

She’s at the bottom of the stairs when she hears other voices. For one brief second, she thinks Killian is on the phone, but she’d know those voices anywhere. One haunts her nightmares, the other is the voice of her dreams, and neither was supposed to be here for three weeks.

Three fucking weeks.

Shit.

Holy shit.

What the hell has Neal done that he has to show up like this without even giving her any kind of heads up?

And how does she fix this? Killian was never supposed to know about Henry. He was the one question she’d never answer. He would have been her veto had it ever come up. When he got home from spending the summer with his dad in New York City, Emma was going to start phasing Killian out. They’d only ever spend time at his place, she’d never spend the night unless Henry was sleeping over at his friends. Usually, she doesn’t have this problem because the guy leaves way before this. He doesn’t have the chance to ever know about Henry, and Emma likes it that way.

The last guy that met Henry was Walsh, and that was only on accident. Or at least that’s what Walsh said, but Emma’s always thought Walsh showed up at the Blue Dog at that time on purpose because he knew Henry would be there with Emma. The guy never understood why Emma didn’t let him meet her son, but when you’ve never been able to trust a man besides David and possibly Graham with him, you have reservations.

His dad’s a full-blown asshole who has upended her life more than once, and she’s already so done with whatever bullshit excuse he’s got for bringing Henry home early.

Emma jumps in place, trying to breathe without really inhaling, and then she turns the corner into the kitchen.

The sight is as bad as she expected. The first person she sees is Killian, and if it were any other morning, this would be a good view to wake up to. His joggers hang low on his hips, he’s standing by the stove shirtless, and his hair is sticking in several directions from where her hands tugged on it last night. Then she sees Neal, who is standing in the corner with his arms crossed, frown on his face. He looks older since she saw him at the beginning of June. His beard is filled with more gray, his hair unruly in a purposeful way. He looks pissed, and Emma already knows this is about to be hell.

And then she sees Henry, and the tenseness fades from her shoulders when she sees his smile and the giant backpack he’s wearing. He’s got to empty that damn thing out.

God, she’s missed him so much.

“Mom!” he squeals, running toward her.

Emma opens her arms and embraces him, holding onto the back of his head and breathing him in. As much as Emma sometimes likes the freedom her summer affords her, she does miss her son. A lot. Him being gone is the entire reason she picks up shifts at The Oaks. She needs the distraction, not so much the money, until the summer is over and Henry comes back home for school.

“Hey, kid,” Emma laughs as she keeps hugging him. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too. Can I have the waffles?”

“What?”

He pulls back and grins. “The waffles Killian made. Can I have them?”

“Killian,” Emma slowly repeats. She looks over Henry’s head toward Killian who is furiously scratching behind his ear, and she realizes just how much he has a deer in the headlights look going on. As confused as she is right now, she knows he’s just had a few bombs dropped on him. “Uh, yeah, why don’t you and my friend Killian eat. I’m going to talk to your dad in the backyard for a minute. Neal.”

“What? I don’t get a hi?” Neal asks.

“Backyard. Now.”

He smiles, and once upon a time, she would have found that charming. Right now, she wants to slap it right off his face. Whatever he has to say, she knows it won’t be good. Emma closes the back door behind them and moves far enough across the deck to keep Henry from hearing.

“What the hell, Neal?”

The smile falls, and Emma crosses her arms over her chest. She has to put up a barrier with him. “Why are you so angry? Are you not excited to see Henry? He has been gone all summer, you know.”

“Of course I’m excited to see my kid. But I wasn’t supposed to see him three weeks from now. And with a head’s up. We have a schedule, Neal. Like, a court-mandated schedule that you made us get, and you’re not sticking to it.”

“That I made us get?” he scoffs. “What’s that supposed to mean? If I recall, you’re the one who kept my son from me for seven years and then didn’t want to give me custody.”

How is he such an ass? Seriously. How does he still not get it?

Emma steps closer and straightens her back. She doesn’t need to make herself taller, not for him, but she does anyway. “I got pregnant with Henry when I was sixteen. You were twenty-four. Do the math on how that’s wrong in about eighty-two different ways. And if I recall, and trust me I have a pretty good memory of this day, when I told you I had something important to tell you, you disappeared off the face of the planet. That doesn’t really seem like a guy who deserves to know about his kid.”

“Oh, come on, Ems. You can’t still be mad about that, can you?”

Is it still considered assault if Emma punches someone who deserves to be punched? There must be a law making that okay.

“Why are you here early, Neal?”

She doesn’t want to get into this with him. He’s never going to understand how much he fucked up Emma’s life. There’s no need for her to try to get him to understand now when all she wants is to know why he just showed up early.

“Who’s that guy in there?” he asks, evading her question.

“A friend.”

His mouth crinkles when he laughs, and she hates it. “A shirtless friend who fixes you breakfast? I hope you don’t make a habit of this when Henry’s home.”

“You don’t get a say on my dating life. Or my parenting skills. Now answer my question.”

He blows out air, and rolls his eyes, like she’s the one inconveniencing him. “Look, Tamara wants to go on vacation before summer ends, and she didn’t want to bring Henry with us. So I thought I’d bring him back to you and it wouldn’t be an issue. I’m sure you can keep him entertained until he goes back to school.”

“Oh my God. Oh my God, Neal, are you serious? You are breaking the rules of our custody agreement because you want to go on vacation with your girlfriend? How is it possible that you’re so selfish? I mean, God, seriously.”

Emma groans and buries her face in her hands before screaming. Or at least screaming as loud as she can without Henry knowing.

“Henry is a good fucking kid,” Emma continues, slowly breathing to calm herself down, “and he loves you. He doesn’t see all the shit I do because I’ve hidden that from him, but you can’t just do this, Neal. You can’t decide you’re done playing dad and give him back to me when you nearly made me go broke fighting to keep custody of the kid I’d raised since he was born. That’s not how being a parent works.”

“That’s rich coming from the woman who has used her time away from her kid to fuck British tourists and is upset her kid is back early because her vacation has to end.”

Emma looks up into the eyes of the man she once loved, the man who gave her son his eyes, and she says, “Go say goodbye to Henry and get the hell out of my house. I’ll see you next June, if you still decide to show up then.”

It’s a dismissal, and Neal never takes those. Not sitting down at least. She’s sure there will be arguments and petty jabs for the next few months. He’ll make her life hell while playing as the good guy. He has this act where he says things like “he’s a good person now, can’t she just move on from the past?”

There’s a difference between forgiveness and moving on that not a lot of people get. They say you have to forgive to move on, but that’s not true. You can move on without forgiveness because some people don’t deserve it. At all. Sometimes all you can do is stop letting them live in your head rent free, and you have to forgive yourself for ever falling for the lies.

Emma’s chosen that route. She’s forgiven herself, has moved on with her life even with Neal constantly trying to pull her back down, and she’s not about to stand here and let him criticize her personal life when he has no business in it.

Through the window, Emma watches Neal hug Henry goodbye. It takes less than a minute before he’s gone and Henry is back to eating his breakfast. Emma would laugh, she wants to at how ridiculous this all is, but she’s not finding anything about today funny. Because while Neal will go back to New York and will be happy, she’s stuck here cleaning up the mess he just made because she has to do everything in her power to make sure her kid never knows the version of his dad she knows.

A phone call would have been nice. At least then she could have gotten Killian out of the house. She still would have been pissed, but at the very least, she would have been able to make things a little better than they are now.

“Shit,” Emma breathes out, looking toward the sky. “Shit, shit, shit.”

Emma inhales and exhales several times before forcing a smile and walking inside where Henry is eating the breakfast that was meant for her and talking to Killian about soccer of all things.

Well, not of all things. Most of the time, Emma forgets that Killian plays professionally. Hell, they talked about it yesterday, and it still isn’t at the forefront of her mind. That part of his life has nothing to do with hers…except for right now when Killian is talking to her son about it.

He still doesn’t have on a damn shirt.

“Mom, did you know Killian used to play soccer? Like, as a job. That’s so cool! Do you think he could coach my team?”

“I did know that, kid.” Emma kisses his forehead, and he squirms away. It’ll take him a week or two to get used to her kind of affection versus Neal’s, so she’s not too offended. “How do you know that?”

“I recognize him.”

“Since when do you watch a lot of British soccer? Or football as Killian calls it.” She mimics Killian’s accent, but she also knows she did a terrible job with it.

Henry shrugs and stuffs a large bite of waffle in his mouth. “Dad doesn’t have anything to watch on TV but sports channels. All I did during the day was watch old soccer matches.”

“Wait. Where was your dad?”

Henry shrugs again. “I don’t know. At work I guess.”

Neal works from home most days of the week. What an ass. Emma bets he didn’t even get someone to watch Henry. He just used old sports reruns to keep him entertained.

“Hey, kid,” Emma says, finally looking to Killian, “can you stay in here and eat breakfast while I talk to Killian in the other room?”

“Sure.”

Emma flashes a tight smile and then nods her head toward the stairs. Killian gets the message and walks upstairs without being asked, immediately heading toward the bedroom. He stands by the window, arms crossed over his chest, and Emma watches his jaw tick, the smile he had on for Henry a moment ago, gone.

Softly, Emma closes the door behind her.

“I have my personal question of the day, Swan. You have a son?”

Okay, great, so this is how it’s going to be. Emma opens her dresser drawer and pulls out a shirt for Killian. He catches it after she tosses it and tugs it on. It doesn’t help as much as she’d like it to.

“Okay, look,” Emma begins, “you were never supposed to meet Henry. He wasn’t…his dad was supposed to have him for three more weeks.”

“The contract on my rental house has more time on it than that.”

Emma runs her hands through her hair and sighs. “I don’t know. I would have figured it out. Only go to your place, spend less time together. I mean, it’s only natural, right? Because you’re going to leave, and it would make sense for things to die down between us.”

Killian laughs, but Emma gets the sense he doesn’t find any of this funny. “Yeah, it makes perfect sense. This was only about sex, right?”

“Killian.”

“No, no.” He holds his hand up. “It’s fine, Swan. I get it. It’s my fault for thinking we might be mates on top of that.”

“I mean, we are – kind of, maybe. I don’t know.” Emma sighs and sits on the end of her bed. She doesn’t know what to do. Even more, she doesn’t know what to say. She definitely doesn’t know how to feel. “It was never supposed to be like this. I’m usually better at not blurring the lines. I don’t know what happened with us that made me drop my guard.”

“I knew you found me charming.”

Emma laughs and falls back on the mattress. “I have a kid, Killian, and he’s back. I can’t be like I was. We can’t just fuck whenever we want or stay out late or eat pizza at three in the morning. I’ve got to make sure Henry has a place to stay and Mary Margaret is across the country visiting her parents so that’s out for awhile. And I’m still working two jobs because I thought I had time to do that. I don’t, God, I don’t know what to do about anything in my life. Plus, you know, I want to spend time with Henry, and I don’t have a lot of free time.”

“I could watch him, love. He’s a bit older than what I’m used to with my nieces, but I’m sure I can find ways to entertain him.”

Emma sits up. Her heart is beating way too fast, and suddenly, the true reality of this situation hits her.

The man she’s been sleeping with has met her son.

And he’s offering to babysit.

What the actual hell?

She needs time to think. And scream. She definitely has to scream into her pillow for at least an hour because she literally cannot think of another thing to do. This is all too much, and she needs Killian to leave. He makes this all too complicated. She needs to go downstairs and eat breakfast with Henry. That she can do. That’s not complicated. That’s something she’s done every day for ten years, even if it’s usually Pop Tarts or a bowl of cereal, not homemade waffles and eggs.

“Can you, uh,” Emma starts, biting her lip, “can you go home? I need to spend time with Henry. He won’t show it, but I know he knows why his dad brought him home early. I’ve got some crap to deal with, but I’ll text you later.”

His eyes narrow, and Emma knows that look by now. He knows she’s lying, but she doesn’t expect him to call her out on her lie.

And he doesn’t because as quickly as his eyes narrow, they widen and a slight smile creeps onto his lips. “I’ll see you later, Swan. I’ll get my clothes out of the machine downstairs and go.”

“Thanks.”

Killian doesn’t move, and Emma has a hard time looking at him until she does. His eyes are so damn blue. It’s ridiculous.

But then he moves. Leaves, actually, just like she asked him to, and she hears every single step as he leaves the house and gets into his car. Emma breathes out a sigh of relief, maybe a little confusion, and then she grabs her phone of her bedside table.

Not a single warning text or call from Neal, just like she thought. Ass.

ES: SOS. My house. 10 minutes.

RL: Are you dead?

ES: Yes, I’m texting you from beyond.

RL: I am hungover. Give me 30.

Emma tosses her phone on her bed and heads downstairs. The life she was living is over. Henry’s home, and she is his mom. That’s what she has to do, and right now, that means putting her anger at Neal and confusion with Killian behind her to go eat breakfast with her kid.

She can only partially ignore that Killian was making this breakfast for her.

For them.

-/-

“King Harold,” Ruby says when she walks through the door in her pajamas and immediately sees Henry, “welcome back to your seaside palace. Come give me a hug.”

“Only if you never call me Harold again.”

“I can’t agree to that, Harold.”

Henry rolls his eyes, but he hugs Ruby anyway. “My name is Henry.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Ruby kisses the top of his head. “You smell like waffles.”

“Killian made waffles for breakfast.”

“Killian did?” she asks, looking over Henry’s head toward Emma. Emma shrugs and cocks her head.

“Kid, why don’t you go unpack? When you’re finished, we’ll go to the beach before I have work.”

“Really?”

“Mhm.” Emma hums and nods at the stairs. “I told them I’d be late today. Get your bags and go.”

Henry quickly grabs his suitcases. They’re nearly bigger than him, but he manages to drag them up the stairs. Emma waits until she hears his bedroom door close, and then she moves to the kitchen and collapses on a barstool. Ruby fixes herself a plate of leftover food and starts eating. “I have eight thousand questions.”

Without lifting her head from the counter, Emma tries to answer at least half those questions. “Killian slept over and was making breakfast when Neal and Henry walked in, so they both met him, which went over as well as you’d expect. Neal didn’t tell me he was bringing Henry back early, but apparently his girlfriend got tired of having him around and wanted to go on vacation. Neal thought ambushing me was the best way to go about the situation, and then he got pissed about me having a guy over.”

Emma peaks up to see Ruby blinking. Slowly. Did she not process anything or is she just so hungover that it’s taking her a long time to figure out what to say?

“Was Neal charming or something when you guys were together?’

Emma laughs. “I was sixteen, and he paid attention to me. He might as well have been Prince Charming.”

“He’s the worst.” Ruby scrunches up her nose. “And you’re not a Prince Charming type of girl. I get more of a rebel vibe from you.”

“Yeah, because mom and restaurant manager means rebel.”

Rub leans over and pokes Emma’s nose. “I don’t think you know how badass you are, Emma Swan. Give me a minute to get some coffee and make more food because I definitely need to dissect everything that’s going on with you. Baby daddy and new boyfriend not included.”

“Not my boyfriend.”

“Oh, right. Just sex friend because you totally invite sex friends to parties at Marg’s place. That seems normal.”

Emma narrows her eyes. “I invited you here to help with a crisis. Not create a new one.”

“I’m just saying,” Ruby sighs, “Mr. Jones is a hell of a lot better than most of the guys you shack up with. Your unfortunate sperm donor included. I’d think about that if I were you. I mean, we both know you’re about to ghost him, but at least think about it, Emma.”

Yeah, maybe she will.

-/-

-/-

@qualitycoffeethings @marrtinski @klynn-stormz @scarletslippers @elizabeethan @jrob64 @therealstartraveller776 @thejollyroger-writer @galadriel26 @galaxyzxstark @idristardis @karenfrommisthaven @teamhook @searchingwardrobes @jamif @shireness-says @ultimiflos @onepunintendid @killianswannn @carpedzem @captainkillianswanjones @mayquita @mariakov81 @jennjenn615 @onceuponaprincessworld @a-faekindagirl @scientificapricot @xellewoods @ultraluckycatnd @stahlop @kmomof4 @tiganasummertree @singersdd @tornadoamy @cluttermind @andiirivera @itsfabianadocarmo @captain-emmajones @ilovemesomekillianjones @taylrsversion @dramioneswan @jonesfandomfanatic @wefoundloveunderthelight @gloriousfemaleworrier @spartanguard @snowbellewells

[unholyobsessions]

Those who get sick together, stay together

Pairing: Julie x Luke

Description: Luke and Julie are best friends and it takes a delirious love confession for them to finally get together

Requested: Yes

A/N: It may seem kind of rushed? not my best work but at the same time i really like it

Warnings: Sickness, throwing up

Word Count: 2.5k

Masterlist

Here’s the thing, when you’ve known someone all your life you get used to doing everything together. Whether it be going to the arcade, the movies, shopping sprees, or vacations, where one goes, the other follows. That is the case with Julie Molina and Luke Patterson.

Growing up as neighbors in a suburban neighborhood of mostly retired couples made them the only kids within a five mile radius (and the winners of every chocolate selling competition the school hosted.) It was impossible to see the two of them apart and they liked it that way. They took the same classes and same extracurriculars, going as far as getting in trouble on purpose if the other had already gotten detention (when they were given a different schedule their freshmen year of high school, they gave a powerpoint presentation to the principle on the reasons they needed to be together… it worked.)

Considering the fact that they were never apart, it really came as no surprise when they both came down with the stomach flu the same weekend. Whenever they’re sick, they normally FaceTime the entire time, neither strong enough to visit and staying away if the other had miraculously not caught the sickness. This time however, Luke’s parents have to go on a business trip that has been scheduled for over a month that they really could not afford to cancel. Rose, ever the angel, immediately offered to have Luke stay over, saying that she is already going to take care of Julie, might as well nurse Luke back to health as well.

So that is why they both find themselves tucked into Julie’s bed with wet rags on their foreheads and grimaces on their faces. They each have their respective trash cans next to them in case they don’t have the time to run to the bathroom before throwing up.

Rose walks into the room with a bowl of ice in her hand but instead of going straight to the bed, she goes to Julie’s windows and pulls open the the purple blinds with butterfly stickers stuck to them. As a result, Luke and Julie let out loud groans and pull the covers over their heads. Rose rolls her eyes and walks over.

“The two of you are so dramatic I swear.” She pulls down the cover and takes both the rags to put them in the bowl.

“Mom,” they say, dragging out the word. A smile pulls at Rose’s lips, as it always does whenever Luke calls her mom. It’s been happening for years really, just as he calls Ray, Dad and Julie calls Mr. and Mrs. Patterson Ma and Pops respectively.

“Don’t mom me. You should be thankful I’m even here taking care of you.” They all know she’s lying. She would move a mountain for them, for anyone really, that’s just how Rose is.

She grabs the packet of pills from her pocket and gets two giving one to each of them. “Put these under your tongue and let them dissolve.” They both obediently do it but shoot up from the bed a few seconds later. Julie makes a run for the bathroom and Luke opts for the trashcan. Rose rushes after Julie, holding her hair back as she retches into the toilet. She faintly hears the sounds of Luke gagging and she lets out a sigh. So much for the pills.

Julie brushes her teeth and goes back to the bed, Luke getting up to rinse his mouth as well. Rose turn on the TV, hoping a couple of Friends reruns will brighten up their mood, and is about to walk out of the room when she hears a crash from the bathroom. She runs in to see Luke standing over a broken glass. He looks up with tears in his eyes.

“I-it fell. I didn’t mean too. I’m sorry.” Rose has to resist the urge to laugh as she grabs his hand and leads him back to the bed. She gets the now cold rags and places them over their foreheads again before turning off the light and going back to the bathroom to clean the mess.

Julie scoots closer to Luke and lays her head on his shoulder. Luke has the urge to push her away because the room feels much too hot for cuddling but when he opens his mouth to tell her to move she looks up at him with the biggest puppy dog eyes he has ever seen. He sighs and ignores the sweat forming under his clothes, pulling Julie closer against him, both drifting off to sleep after a few episodes.

. . .

The next morning they’re no longer running a fever but they do find out the hard way that they still cannot keep any food down. When Rose tries to give them some plain toast, hoping that they will at least get some food in them, they both got up from the bed, this time Luke going to the bathroom and Julie using the trashcan.

With a heavy sigh, Rose phones the doctor, questioning him on what is the best option for two picky teenagers.

He suggests using syrup medicine instead of pills and tells her a pharmacy where she could pick it up in a couple of minutes. She thanks him profusely before hanging up. When she goes back upstairs she sees Julie and Luke both making their way back to the bed after brushing their teeth.

“Hey guys I’m going to pick up some medicine, I’ll be about forty-five minutes. You going to be okay by yourselves?” She calls from the doorway. Julie groans and tucks herself further into the bed. Luke laughs and looks up at Rose.

“We’ll be okay mom. I’m pretty sure Julie is going back to sleep,” he answers with a smile. He still felt terrible but he wasn’t nauseous anymore and he called that a win. She smiled and said goodbye before leaving.

. . .

A few hours later, Rose goes into the room with the medicine in hand. She hadn’t given it to them when she first arrived because they had both fallen asleep. They had been awake for a few hours but the medicine is supposed to make them drowsy so she preferred to give it to them at night.

Julie’s sitting on the bed, brushing through her wet hair and Luke is changing in the bathroom. Rose sits behind Julie and gently takes the hairbrush from her. She finishes untangling her hair and gives it a final dry through with a towel. Luke comes out of the bathroom and smiles sheepishly.

“I threw up again.”

Rose simply holds out her hand and Luke speed walks to the bed. He lays down and cuddles at her side, with Julie leaning back against her chest. She places kisses on both their heads before telling them to sit up so they can take the medicine.

They each take a tablespoon and take a sip of water. Rose tucks them into bed and turns off the lights, wishing them a goodnight and waiting a beat for them to say it back.

A few minutes later, they’re laying side by side, the darkness of the room providing a sense of comfort. The medicine hits Luke harder than it should, and Julie teases him about being a lightweight as he says nothing but nonsense.

“Jules?” Luke’s voice is groggy, as if it’s fading away.

“Yeah Luke?” Julie however is fully awake, the medicine not hitting her yet.

“I love you.”

She blushes, a foolish smile pulling at her lips. “I love you too.”

“No but like, love you love you.” He’s not quite sure what he’s saying. He feels sort of like that time he got his wisdom teeth out.

Her breath hitches. “You’re delirious,” she whispers, wishing for him to take the words back before she can read too much into them.

“Maybe. But that doesn’t mean it’s not true. I’m in love with you Jules, have been for a while.” He says it as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, but his eyes are drooping and she’s sure he won’t remember this tomorrow.

“Go to sleep Lu.” her heart clenches and she blinks the tears away, blaming the pain in her stomach and not her feelings.

“Okay. Goodnight.” And just like that he’s out like a light. A few tears slip down her cheeks and after a while, the medicine hits her and her eyes flutter shut.

The next morning she waits for him to say something, anything, and when he doesn’t she decides she won’t either. She pretends it never happened and tries her best to act normal but Luke’s not an idiot. He notices quickly that something’s wrong. She stays as far away from him in the bed as possible, flinching if even his arm brushed against hers which is a large contrast to her cuddly behavior the days prior. She would jump whenever he said her name, more specifically when he said, “Jules.”

When Rose greets them, Julie is thankful for the distraction. She keeps looking at her mom, avoiding turning her head when she gives them another dose of medicine. They’re both feeling much better and are able to hold down the toast. Rose thinks they’ll feel good as new by the next day and personally, Julie doesn’t think it can come quick enough. She stays quiet most of the day, only giving Luke short replies and nods of her head whenever he tries to start conversation. Eventually he gives up, not knowing what he did wrong but deciding to give her some time, hoping that she will approach him when she’s ready.

The next day, Luke’s parents arrive to pick him up. Julie hears them speaking to her parents; they ask for her and how she’s doing but Julie pretends to be asleep in order to avoid any conversation. She hears Luke shuffling around the room as he gets his stuff together. She pretends she doesn’t feel Luke’s lingering touch on her shoulder when he says goodbye and she ignores the tears that fall down her face when she hears the door close downstairs.

. . .

Julie and Luke did not fight. They argued but they made up within the span of a few hours, so to say Luke is worried when Julie does not reply to his texts is an understatement. It has been about two hours since he had gone home and he has sent Julie a text every ten minutes.

Julie knows Luke is not stupid and that her not answering him is suspicious but she can’t help it. She ignores every single message and turns off her phone. She keeps it off the rest of the day and tries to not think about him, because even a single thought of him breaks her heart.

The next day she leaves her phone in her room all day and stays in the living room watching Netflix with her mom. She resists the urge to go upstairs to at least read his texts because that would just make the situation worst. Late in the evening when Rose goes to make dinner Julie makes her way to the studio, itching to play the piano after four days of not doing so. She isn’t expecting to see Luke sitting on the couch with his guitar resting on his leg.

He stands up quickly once he hears her come in. They stare at each other for a couple of seconds.

“What are you doing here?” Julie asks.

“I knew it would only be a matter of time before you came in here. Julie we need to talk.” He puts his guitar down and Julie shakes her head.

“We don’t need to talk? Why would we? I’m okay. We’re okay.” Julie averts her gaze, the words falling out of her lips in rapid succession.

“We’re not okay Julie. What did I do?” He asks desperately.

“Nothing. We’re fine,” Julie assures, trying her best to sound convincing.

“Jules,” Julie flinches and Luke’s face falls. “Why haven’t you been answering my texts?”

“My phone’s been off,” she states in a matter of fact but Luke shakes his head. He’s growing frustrated and her lack of explanation is pissing him off.

“Why are you ignoring me?” His voice is loud and hurt causing Julie to break.

“Because you told me you loved me!” The silence that comes after is deafening.

“What- Jules of course I love you. I’ve said it hundreds of times.” He really hopes his nerves aren’t as evident as he thinks they are.

“Yeah, but you said you were in love with me,” Julie whispers. She looks everywhere but at him and continues to speak. “And I know you didn’t mean it and it hurts so much because I do mean it. I’m in love with you Luke. And hearing you say it while you were barely conscious broke me.”

Luke stares at her, mouth hanging open as he struggles to find the right words to say. He walks closer to her, stopping when the tips of his shoes brushed against hers. “Jules look at me please.” She begrudgingly lifts her gaze to him and his heart clenches at the sight of tears forming in her eyes. He reaches a hand up to cup her cheek, gently wiping away the first stray tear with his thumb. “I am so incredibly in love with you.”

“What?” He wishes she didn’t sound as surprised as she does.

“I’m in love with you Julie Molina. I love every single thing about you. The gap between your teeth when you smile. The way your hair never stays the way you want it to but it still looks beautiful. I love your voice, and hearing you play piano. I love how you draw on the edge of your shoes and will stop whatever you are doing to write down a melody, even if we’re in the middle of a test. I love your little jokes and how you laugh so unapologetically loud no matter where you are. I love you so much and god do I hate myself for telling you while I was high off of flu medicine.” Julie was full on crying now and Luke’s own eyes were starting to fill with tears.

Going off instinct, Julie goes up on her tiptoes and presses her lips against Luke’s, cupping the back of his neck to pull him closer. Luke is taken by surprise at first but once his brain starts working again, he reciprocates the kiss. When they pull away they both have similar grins plastered on their faces.

“Are we good?” Luke asks.

Julie nods her head. “More than good.”

Rose smiles when they both come back into the house at dinner time and exchanges a look with her husband when they make their way up the stairs with Luke placing a hand on Julie’s lower back.

. . .

No one is surprised when they walk into school at the end of summer break holding hands, and if they spot a few teacher exchanging twenty dollar bills, they don’t mention it.

[starvationfreediet]

How To Lose up to 50 LBS Before SUMMER Without Starving Yourself? (2021 Update)

I’m gonna be honest with you: weight loss takes a lot of effort. No matter what technique you do, there will be some resistance, and that’s totally natural.

There’s no magic program or way to lose weight. If weight loss were so easy, everyone on Earth would be a supermodel.

Now, the idea of losing weight sounds really appealing, I know. When you lose weight, you feel fulfilled and confident because you have ticked off one of your goals off your list.

When you lose weight, you literally have the mindset to achieve anything.

But it doesn’t mean that there are no easy ways to lose weight.

What the average person does when wanting to lose weight

When you think of weight loss, what comes to your mind?

Calories

Hunger

Stress?

Well, that’s common. When I tried losing weight, that is also what I thought about, until I learned something that changed my life.

“Create a diet suited for your lifestyle, not a lifestyle suited for your diet”.

When wanting to lose weight, this is what people usually do:

embark on crash diets

starve themselves

give up their favorite foods

completely change their lifestyle

And although the average person might see some results in doing that, they will not keep the fat OFF, and here is why:

After having melted a few pounds, the average person will go back to their original lifestyle and end up back to eating the foods they gave up during their diet.

This means that they will gain back the weight that they lost!

But imagine if you could lose fat permanently?

Imagine if you could see progress every single week.

Imagine if you could lose weight without starving yourself while still eating what you love.

Imagine seeing progress while still allowing yourself to eat tasty meals like ribeye steak with roasted garlic and butter?

How cool would that be?

But first:

Let me share my story…

Now, you surely have heard a lot of weight loss stories saying things like “I started losing weight in a few days when I ate THIS, or by drinking THIS“…

Well I didn’t do any of those things, because if I said that, then I would be lying to you. No. My weight loss was totally natural.

I just had to take a different approach which I’m gonna share with you right now.

My name is Andrea, I’m 24 and I’m from Colorado but have lived in Los Angeles, California, for most of my life now.

Despite my weight issue, I majored in nutrition in college because it really fascinated me. I now love what I do: helping people lead a healthy life.

About a year ago, I had had enough. I am 5″10 and weighed 190 pounds. I was overweight, helpless and desperate. I had tried every diet out there, or so it seemed, and all of them had barely any results on me.

When I was lucky enough to lose a few pounds, I would gain them right back in a week or even less! No matter how much I crash dieted, nothing would work.

I would blame myself for this. Most of my family members are either overweight or obese, so I don’t have the best genetics. My metabolism is very slow.

My best friend, Clara, saw that my weight issue was putting a huge strain on my mental health. So she decided to do some research to find something to help me out.

After a few days, she comes to my house and tells me that she might have found the solution for me. When she told me what it was, I laughed…

“Clara, there is no way this is possible,” I said. “I cannot possibly lose weight without starving myself and still eating what I love, that’s crazy!”

But she pressured me to do the program that she found for me. So since she insisted and wanted to help me, I figured that I’d just try out The Custom Keto Diet Plan.

The program was really affordable and plus if I wasn’t happy with it, I’d get my money back. So what did I have to lose, right?

After the first week of the program, I couldn’t believe what happened. When I got onto the scale, I weighed about 183 lbs. That’s right. I had melted about 7 pounds in 1 week.

I had never seen such progress and was really surprised because this Custom Keto Diet Plan didn’t feel like a diet at all!

I was:

Eating what I loved every day

Never hungry

Seeing progress

I was seeing progress while enjoying the process…

And even though I thought I was genetically doomed, this program helped me anyway.

I was seeing huge progress every week! And at the end of the 8-week program, I weighed 138 pounds, which was 2 pounds UNDER my goal weight. I was extremely happy, and I still am.

And let me tell you that the fat I melted is GONE. It has been about 8 months since I lost weight and my body weight has never gone above 140 lbs since.

This is possible for you too. Imagine being able to enjoy your diet while seeing progress!

Now, I know what you’re thinking, dear reader: ‘what the hell is this Custom Keto Diet Plan? Why should I care?’. And that’s ok, I was skeptical too when learning about it.

But if you stick to the end, I will reveal to you that it is not some “magic” program. As I said, any program you will take will require effort on your part!

It is perfectly logical and if done seriously will bring you amazing results!

Even me, who thought to be “genetically doomed” was able to do it.

But let me ask you this, reader: do you really wanna lose weight? Do you really wanna lead a healthier life?

If yes, then I strongly recommend you reading this until the end because you will be able to do just that literally tonight.

There is no better feeling than knowing you lost weight and achieved your goal.

MY GAME CHANGER:

Most products or services out there will not keep the fat you lost “off” if you know what I mean.

And that’s a bummer because the worst feeling is ending up back at square one. I’ve been there before, and you probably have too.

But imagine if you could lose weight fast and effectively without starving yourself?

How amazing would it be if you could enjoy your favorite foods and still see progress?

And more importantly: imagine if you could do all those things and not gain back the pounds you lost?

How cool would all that be?

What IS the Custom Keto Diet Plan?

The Custom Keto Diet Plan is a program that focuses on creating customized meal plans for you based on:

what you love eating, so you won’t give up your favorite foods

goal weight, so you’ll 100% meet it

Daily activity levels, so you don’t need to be exercising daily if you don’t want to

overall lifestyle so that you don’t have to change your daily life

It is a quick weight loss plan that is best for an upcoming occasion, big day, or to shed vacations weight.

It is based on a scientifically proven method and uses only healthy food sources, so it is completely safe for you

A step by step guide on weight-loss explaining how to achieve the target weight, so you’ll know exactly what to do

It gives a complete list of foods to select as per personal likings, so you’ll be eating what you love everyday

An accurate diet plan is based on every user’s micro calories and macro calories.

A complete grocery list for shopping that can be downloaded, so you’ll know what to cook

And so much more…

There are no supplements or exercise needed.

And those services will be effective for you because they only make minor changes to your diet. Plus since you won’t need to change your lifestyle, it will work long-term for you.

Thanks to the custom keto diet, I lost over 50lbs in about 2 months, and I would see progress daily.

Imagine seeing progress every day! No better feeling.

Now you have 2 options if this interests you:

Option 1:

Go to a dietitian and ask them to come up with a custom meal plan for you. This is great, but quite expensive: $100 per session plus $400 for check-ins and updates.

Option 2:

Check out the program that I have linked below, which does exactly the same things but at a fraction of this price, so you’ll save a lot of money and time.

If this interests you, grab yourself a custom keto diet plan for a discounted price right below (60-day money back guarantee).

In addition, receive a FREE Deliciously Easy Keto Recipe E-book.

Get Your Custom Keto Diet Right Here!

No subscription, keep your meal plan for life!

What do you have to lose? Either love your meal plan and see progress or get your money back!

If you do the program seriously, it will be a huge game-changer and you will lose weight way before summer begins

[docholligay]

Fluff prompt: Lena talks to Winston about proposing to Emily

She was the patron saint of long odds, Lena Oxton, and it wasn’t terribly uncommon for a pilot, in the years when she had become a legend in her own right, especially to carry a charm of her insignia clipped to the edge of a jacket or tucked into a pocket. Not as they were superstitious, of course, but it never hurt. Her ability to raise from the dead, to come back from impossible injury, would become as enshrined in the mythos of Britannia as King Arthur or Saint George themselves, and Winston would always smile a bit as people spoke of her in that nearly reverent way. 

His experience of her never touched legendary qualities, for we cannot love the things we deify, the bright gold of them refusing the shadows that make a thing tarnished and worn enough to be real. No, Tracer, to him, would always be a bit of a mess, and get ahead of herself, and laugh at her own jokes, and lose her keys at the drop of a hat, and rage and sob and spark with joy all with equal immediacy. 

Besides, it was hard to think too reverently about someone with a crumb of cake on their upper lip. 

“I finally am going to do it, Win.” She grinned brightly, even as her fork still contained a bit of strawberry cake. 

“You’ve been talking about it for months,” Winston smiled, “I think I’ve heard at least twelve different plans.” 

“Right, right, but I’ve done it this time,” She took a brochure out of her pocket, “See? Been saving up, I ‘ave, and we’re off two weeks from now.” 

Winston knew about the cruise Emily and Tracer were meant to go on. Tracer had been saving for nearly as many months as she’d been thinking about asking Emily, and Emily, too, had been laying it aside. They deserved a fancy vacation, all things told, and so they’d carefully socked it away, Tracer being not too proud to pick up a  few flying lessons, to take one in proper luxury, on that was all inclusive, and finer than Tracer had probably ever seen in her life. It was the smallest room, the only one the two of them could afford, but Tracer had excitedly talked about which were her best suits, and encouraged Emily to look around for something properly formal for the dance nights on the deck. 

It was wonderful, to see Tracer so happy. 

“You’re going to ask her there? When?” 

Tracer leaned back,. “A little less sure on that, ‘ave to make a proper reconnoiter of the ship, right? Find the perfect place.” 

“She’ll say yes.” Winston was not even certain that Tracer doubted it, particularly, but he still wanted to offer the reassurance. Emily loved her dearly, in the way that it was impossible to spend too much time around Tracer and not begin to love her some. She pulled people into her orbit surely as any heavenly body. 

“Doesn’t mean I don’t want to get it right,” not concerned at all, Winston could see, “Em deserves the romance of it all, right? Something...like a fairytale, for ‘er. I’m not always so easy to be with, I don’t think.” 

“I don’t think that’s true, Lena.” Winston shook his head. “I don’t think you’re hard to love at all.”

“Such a soft touch, you are, big guy,” she giggled, and rubbed his forearm, her nose crinkling, “I mean that--I suppose it is also true that I’m a bit of a odd bird, bit annoying, at the corners, right--but I mean that me job, it’s a bit dangerous, bit unpredictable. Not many’d sign up for that, in the long term, and that I do know.” 

Winston nodded. It was true that Tracer had never had what could fairly be called a lack of luck, with women, but the battles and the danger, while excited at first, became a certain level of terrifying once you came to love Tracer. She narrowly avoided death, from day to day, sure as a jackrabbit, but there was always that sword hanging high above her head, the dayher luck ran out. Tracer herself was the first to admit to it, with a smile and a shake of her head, that people like her didn’t often die in their beds, but then, often isn’t the same as never, is it? 

And she was the patron saint of long odds. 

“She loves you.” 

It was simple, succinct, and the greatest truth that Winston could know. He’d known it from the first time he and Emily had sat down to one of Tracer’s little teas together, Tracer buzzing about the kitchen trying to assemble little trays of things, far more formal than any weekend tea she’d shared with Winston alone. The way she stumbled as she spoke to him, the way she gently complimented him, the way she tried to reassure him she would never try to take Tracer away. She had seen his fear, and he had believed her when she told him, and she had kept that promise. 

He felt he had gained someone else, instead of losing Tracer. He loved Emily, too. Emily seemed to love him. 

Tracer’s eyes sparkled. “I want to make ‘er ‘appy, Win. That’s all. I know ‘er family’s a bit cool on the idea of me--”

“Her brothers love you.” 

Tracer nodded. “Right, that is true. Mum and Dad, I mean, aren’t terribly keen on me. But,” she shrugged, “not as if it’s their life, and Emily seems pleased enough with me, and--” 

She pulled a little box out of her pocket, and opened it to show Winston. It was a small ring, but tasteful, slightly cloudy in the stone, but shined up as best as it could be. 

“Me nan’s. Not much but,” she turned it to her and looked at it, “I thought she might like it. Bit of me ‘istory, right? More than any bloody crest or what ‘ave you.” 

Winston took it out of her hand and inspected it. “No one else fought you for it?” 

“I mean, Ollie’s already married, Florrie, too, and took the ring from her dad’s side. Isn’t Parvati’s style at all, and I don’t think Raj’ll ever bother with marriage at all, right? Not as if it’s worth much, other than the sentiment.” She laughed, “But I did ask! Promise.” 

“Lena--” 

“Would you be me best man, Win?” Tracer cocked her head and looked at him, beaming, “Would mean a lot to me.” 

“Me?” If Winston was built for crying, he would have felt his eyes well with tears, but as human as he was, that was something they had never given him, “You don’t want to ask Parvati?” 

Tracer waved a hand. “Parvati’s gotten me the whole of ‘er bloody life, and god knows I don’t want to see the hen party she’ll plan. You’re me best mate, Win. I want you to do it. Promise I can find you a tailor for the suit.” 

Winston gently set down the ring. Could he have imagined, all those years ago, when he had figured out the riddle and pulled her back through time, a pilot whimpering on the bug jar floor, that he would grow to be so loved? To hear someone call him her best friend, and know that she meant it with her whole heart? Could he have imagined he would know what it felt like to be hugged tightly, and trusted deeply, and asked for such an honor? 

To imagine such a thing, when he came to earth a scared child, would have been impossible. 

“I would love to, Lena.” 

“Oh, thank you Win!” She sprung up in a jump, blinked, and hugged him tightly around the neck, “Promise I’ll message you soon as she says yes, with every detail, oh I will, and then we can ‘ave a bit of an engagement party when I get back, right? Just something small, but it’ll get Fareeha and Ang out of the ‘ouse if nothing else, and save Em telling the story too many times. Oh Win!” 

She hugged him again. “I’m so excited. So ‘appy.” She hadn’t needed to say so. She nearly vibrated with it. “I love you, Win.” 

No, not impossible. 

Just long odds.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #475

(from two days ago, oops)

What is your favorite background noise? (Ex. Water dripping, people talking.) I really like a steady rain tapping on the windows. Do you like taking selfies? Why or why not? No, because I'm ugly. It's annoying because I've been wanting to take pics with Girt considering even as just friends literally none exist of us, but yeah. I fucking hate taking pictures of myself and it takes a billion and two tries to get a picture I deem "acceptable" anyway. Were you named after anyone? No. What was the last comic book you read? I don't and never have read comic books. What is your heritage? German, Irish, and Polish. Describe the worst friend you have ever befriended. All things considered, somehow my former best friend was the worst. She was homophobic, racist, extremely self-centered, drama-driven, excessively bossy, ungrateful... I will never be able to explain how our friendship ever worked. If you found the recipe for immortality, would you sell it or would you burn it? Burn it. With certainty. We just aren't meant to live forever. What is the most embarrassing, cringe-worthy thing you have ever done? 99% of my life has been Cringe. What is the worst thing someone could do on a date? Be distracted/not pay attention to the other, like by constantly using their phone. It's so rude. That would immediately make me lose interest in you. If you could turn one legal thing illegal, what would it be? I dunno. What is something you swore you would never do when you grew up, but you did anyway? I was absolutely going to college as a kid. Fast-forward to the future, I've dropped out three times and am going nowhere. Little me saw me as so, so much more successful. Do you actually iron your clothes? No. Unless it's a formal occasion. Do you rent or own your current home? We rent. Have you ever used cursive after school, aside from your signature? My handwriting is naturally mostly cursive. Do you have your groceries delivered or do you buy them yourself? We order our groceries for pick-up, so we have to go to the store, but not in. Do you have a gym membership? Sigh. I do, but Mom and I have really been neglecting going since my time with my personal trainer ran out... What’s your favorite computer game genre? Horror, of course. Do you have any exes your parents never liked? No. Have you ever been severely mentally ill? I am. What was the last thing you purchased from a small local business? I don't know. Have you ever used chewing tobacco? EW no, that shit grosses me out so much. If someone’s laughing, do you instantly think they’re laughing at you? Suuuure do. How would you react if your parents told you they were having another baby? Well, they're divorced, Mom cannot stand my dad, and she also had a complete hysterectomy when she had ovarian cancer, so like... Have you ever had a garage or yard sale before? How much did you make? Over the course of my life, we've had a few yard sales. I don't remember how much we made at any. Have you ever had to evacuate your home for any reason? No. Which mythological creature is your favorite? DRAGONS. I love dragons. Have you ever been to a butterfly garden before? No, but that sounds amazing. What's the biggest bird you've ever seen up close? Oh my god y'all, when I volunteered once at a wildlife rehab center, I was FEET away from some sort of falcon. Guys, you would not believe JUST how big birds of prey are. I was shocked and in total awe. Have you ever seen a double rainbow before? More than once. Were you ever afraid of the dark as a child? I don't THINK I was? What is the strangest thing you’ve been asked? Something inappropriate that really pissed me off. What was your favorite game as a child? I was obsessed with the original Spryo trilogy and would play all three obsessively. What is the darkest thing you have seen on the internet? I don't know, dark shit. Do you crack your knuckles, neck or toes constantly? No, but ugh Girt does that with his neck and it drives me insane alsdkjfaljdlfkwe. Are you constantly catching colds or other sicknesses? No, my immune system is a legend. Are you afraid of mice? No, they're precious. What type of souvenir do you usually purchase when on vacation? I go on vacations so irregularly that I can't really answer this. I've been on a vacation maybe twice in my entire life. Do you own more than one copy or edition of a book? No. If you could see any musical on Broadway right now, what would it be? I don't like musicals. Will you willingly sing in front of other people besides your family? God no. Do you eat soup when you’re sick? No. I don't like soup. Who can never fail to make you laugh? Absolutely my boyfriend. He's the funniest person I know. Have you ever been on a tour bus? No. Do you prefer listening to things through headphones or speakers? Earplugs. Are you listening to music right now? No; I'm watching Gab play The Evil Within. Have you ever unbuttoned your ex’s pants? Just one of them, but we were together at the time. What are you planning on eating for dinner tonight if you haven’t already? Mom made pizza. What was the worst news you’ve heard this entire week? Girt's mother has Covid. He's vaccinated, but nevertheless, he's still getting a test done just to be safe, and also because if he's contracted it, I might have it. And that means my mother could get it, which just cannot happen, even if she's vaccinated, too. The poor guy is really freaking out about it, but ASTONISHINGLY, I'm not panicking yet. Girt's health has seemed fine, I'm fine, so... We'll just have to wait to see what his test says. Do you have a lot of trees around your house? What about buildings? No; yes. I hate living in the suburbs, it sucks here. Would you say either one of your parents are 'pack-rats?' No. Have you ever disowned anyone in your family? For what reasons? No. Has anyone ever called you a sociopath before? No. Do you have freckles? Do you like/dislike them? Not on my face, no. I have a few randomly on my body though. Would you ever consider getting dreadlocks? No. Have you downloaded extra fonts for your computer? Oh, plenty. Who is the latest great YouTuber you’ve discovered? The latest, uhhhh. I'd probably say John Wolfe as a truly "great" one considering I watch him regularly now. Do you read the Bible regularly? Yeah, no. All the Bible does is piss me off, frankly. Name three patriotic songs you like. I don't know about three, but I do shockingly like this one country song with a name I can't remember. All I know is it has "red, white, and blue" in the title. ... I think. Oh! There's "Deutschland" by Rammstein, even though it's not about my own country. Has it ever snowed on your birthday? Maybe at some point as a kid? Idr. Do you like the way your name is spelled? No, actually. I wish it was "Brittney." It's more true to the pronunciation. Do you believe in astrology? Not in the slightest, and while I really shouldn't care, like believe what you want, it's a genuine pet peeve of mine when others base their fucking lives around what positions some goddamn stars are in in an infinite universe. They make decisions based on bullshit being spat at them that might not be suitable. I know, it's stupid to care, but I can never seem to NOT roll my eyes when I see/hear people blaming their flaws and shit on this stuff. Are you one of those people who has like a hundred apps on their phone? No; I have very few. What’s the band that you love even though you know they’re awful? I can't help but love some Blood on the Dance Floor songs. :x Do you coo over other people’s babies? No, not really. Like I can acknowledge a cute picture and be like "awww," but it's nothing I lose my mind over at all. What is something that makes you very squeamish? VOMIT. If you’re out of high school, have you stayed in touch with your high school friends? If you’re still in school, do you think you will? The only high school friend of mine I'm still actively friends with/is still in my life is Girt, obviously. Like I have HS friends on Facebook that I still very much love and will react to what they post and sometimes comment, but we don't really talk-talk. Do you dye your hair regularly? No. :/ That's not something I can afford to do. Do you have an alter ego? Describe them: No. Do you know both of your biological parents? Which one do you prefer? I do, and I love them both. Do you store a lot of pictures you’ve taken that no one else has seen? I'm a wanna-be photographer, of course I do. If you had to name your kid after an American state, which would you choose? Probably "Dakota" for either gender. What do you use to dry your clothes? (Tumble dryer, radiator, etc) We have your normal dryer. Do you ever play the built-in games on your computer? Which ones? Nah. Do/did you doodle on your books at school? My notebooks and binders, ohhhh yes. Actual school textbooks, absolutely not. Who’d you last see in a tux? The groom and groomsmen of the last wedding I shot. Who’s the bravest person you know? Sara. Have you ever dated someone who was real sportsy? No.

[loquaciousquark]

I hope you're doing well! I know you posted about a stressful situation last month, and I hope it's resolved itself. Sending good wishes you you and Hamlet!

Thank you so very much for checking in on me! I really do appreciate it. An update to that post under the cut.

Carol, who moved in with me on May 28, is still here. Right now, we have set a tentative move-out goal of the first or second week of August, but this is pending an apartment application that she hopes to finalize on Monday and a job situation that is a complete mess.

Basically, according to my limited understanding, Carol is licensed to teach in Florida. Alabama has a reciprocity clause with Florida, but it must be applied for. Carol has recently begun this process, but her teaching license(s?) is (are?) set to expire in December unless she passes certain exams. She’s already passed one for...general middle and high school teaching, I think, but failed a math exam. She has an art history exam Monday afternoon and expects to pass. I hope so, because she’s been doing nothing but watching Netflix and shopping for houses for the last few days in her new 2017 Jeep Cherokee.

I remain unspeakably grateful to my parents for teaching me financial literacy, because until I witnessed Carol’s decision-making, I had no idea how hard it was for some people to not spend money unwisely. 

As a reminder, Carol is dead broke. She has $153,000 in debt across student loans, medical bills, Czech and US taxes, and some personal loans she would like to repay to friends for helping her. She is unemployed and has no support from her family and has relied on couch surfing at friends’ and acquaintances’ homes since last summer for housing. Since moving in with me, she has been trying to find somewhere to live that would accept her with all her debt and her nonexistent US employment history for the last ten years. Based on what she’s said, I think she has about $9k in the bank--or did, until last week.

In short, she needs a car, a job, and a home, and as far as I can tell she doesn’t care which order they come in.

Two weeks ago, she was offered a position in a rural town about 30 minutes from where I live. It’s a small, very country town which desperately needs a special education teacher, something I think Carol really does have a passion for. However, because she hasn’t finished the reciprocity licensure application yet, they’re having a lot of roadblocks with her paperwork, compounded by the fact that when she left Prague last year, she left all her important documentation behind: things like her birth certificate, her social security card, and her letters of recommendation, which for some reason she did not have electronic backups of. The principal has been trying to get what she needs from Carol for two weeks. Carol is constantly saying that things are “in process” but has nothing to show for it.

As far as we can tell, the job is still hers, but the school year starts August 13th and she still hasn’t been approved by the Board of Education because the paperwork is still not finished on her end. She did not attempt to replace her birth certificate or social security card until they needed it for the application. (Her friend in Prague--and I am beginning to realize she uses the word “friend” for anyone she’s met longer than sixty seconds), who frantically packed up all her belongings when she realized she would not be able to go back to the city, cannot ship her belongings or go through them for the important paperwork until next summer, as she and her husband are currently vacationing in Rome for a year.

Carol decided last night she is also going to apply for some online Department of Defense position--I didn’t understand the details and don’t really want to know, except that it’s also teaching and some administration. We’ll see how it works out. She is growing increasingly annoyed at the principal’s requests for paperwork completion, which baffles me.

So, job: shrug? Maybe?

Car next, then, but this whole mess also goes back to the financial literacy thing. My parents have always been extremely frugal (pennywise, as my dad would say), and from childhood they made it very clear to us to not buy things you couldn’t afford. They’ve never had a car payment in my memory, and they paid off their house about ten years ago. This means they drove a lot of junkers for a very long time, and for a very long time we had very few vacations, but now they’re fully financially stable and debt-free and my mom has a car that she drove off the lot brand new that they paid cash in hand for. 

If I had been in Carol’s situation, I would have found a cheap, mostly reliable used car that probably wasn’t going to explode on me and drive that as long as I could while saving up for housing. I did in fact drive her to look at several used cars, most of which would have been even outside my expected budget (hers, as it happens, is larger even than that, because one of her overseas friends was willing to contribute $5000 to the cost of a vehicle). (I paid $6500 for my current car, a 2004, in college in 2012 with 70,000 miles on it at the time, and have driven it ever since.)

She rejected all of them because they did not have good “energy” and “feelings.” One she was willing to buy at $3700, but told the seller to go pay for his own inspection (once I explained to her what mechanical inspections were as a concept), so they ghosted her. She also is extremely afraid of head gasket failure--I don’t know why, since she knows nothing about cars--and has assumed all vehicles she has driven are on the verge of it, so after the first week she refused to even look at a vehicle without a warranty.

This means she exclusively limited herself to used dealership options, which I’m just going to come right out and say was monumentally stupid. I don’t know if any car dealers follow me, so I’m sorry if I am misperceiving this, but in my experience almost every dealer I’ve gone to has been aggressive, manipulative, and extremely predatory in their interest rates. I cannot think of a riskier course of action in abject debt than to try to cut a deal with a car dealer for the sake of a warranty I doubt will cover that much truly expensive failure in the long run anyway.

On Thursday, Carol bought a $20,000 2017 Jeep Cherokee from a dealership down the road. I don’t know what she put down. I do know she did not use her friend’s money (why not??) and I know her interest rate on the car loan is 4%, which she is extremely proud of and which horrifies me. She also “persuaded” them into a limited warranty that will cover the vehicle up to 100,000 miles (currently at 42k, and they ~only offer it for cars under 40,000 miles~). I can’t tell you how bad an idea I think all this is.

Thursday night, as she was regaling me with stories of her negotiating prowess, she also tells me she has decided to buy a house. She’s sick of renting, and somehow, someone somewhere managed to get her approved for up to $120,000 in a home loan. She already has $150k in debt, another $20k from the car, and now wants to buy a house. She was delighted that she could make the minimum 7% down payment, even though it would wipe out every cent she has left and leave her less than $500 to her name for moving expenses, utilities, food, title registration, etc. afterwards.

She doesn’t even have a secure job yet.

However, this plan seems to have fallen through. She went out with a realtor several times this weekend and came home the last time in great, heaving sobs, because she can’t find the 3bed 2bath she wanted in her price range. (For reference, most homes in this area go between 200k - 250k right now for 2-3bed 2ba, and the closer you get to the city--I have about a 20 minute commute--the higher it gets. My next door neighbor sold her 3bed 2.5ba for >300k three months ago, and Carol knew this.) She was absolutely devastated that the only things in her range were “tiny little ugly flipped houses” and “the ghetto.” The realtor basically said she wasn’t going to waste any more of her time. Carol repeatedly told me how grateful I should be that I got in at the price point I did a few years back, because no “normal people” could ever afford to break into the market again.

I tried to tell her that it was because I lived in with a roommate in very cheap housing and then a cell of a 1bed 1ba apartment for eight years while I saved money, but if nothing else, I’ve learned I’m not allowed to compare our situations or histories or offer advice of any kind except “go ahead and buy what you want,” because that only makes her cry harder. In the end, she has decided to give up on the house for now and settle for the absolute last thing in the world she wanted, an apartment with a lease.

To be honest, until she has a signed contract in hand, I half-expect this lease to fall through as well. I have tried to offer what I think is sensible advice and been ignored or rebuffed. I have tried to offer a sympathetic ear and ended up with her sobbing uncontrollably on me--heaving, body-wracking sobs--over and over again with me trapped in my own home, providing endless emotional support for a girl I don’t even like. I have tried to encourage her to do the things she wants to do, since she’s going to do them anyway, and when she gets “negative energy” after the purchases (buyer’s remorse, I think, that one little inkling of sense saying maybe it wasn’t a great idea to buy a $20,000 car or an $1100 brand new iPhone without a job), she blames it on the exact thing I said I thought might be good and makes me feel like I have now directly contributed to a negative outcome after poor decision-making.

For the record, when she says these things to me she is not saying, and has never said, them directly at me. She has never blamed me in any way for a negative outcome. She is not consciously trying to manipulate me or abuse me or take advantage of my help. She has never once asked me for money or job connections or for me to use any of my stability to unfairly or unethically get her something she needs. She is just completely absorbed in her own (rightfully absorbing) mess of a situation, and I think just completely unaware of how much of an emotional black hole she has become. There are no problems except her problems. There are no needs except her needs, and everyone around her has to understand how hard she has it at all times. 

So, we’ll see. I am praying that the apartment works out next week. The owner seems to want to work with her, which is a hopeful sign. Good thoughts would be appreciated.

--

Aside from all of this, work has gotten extremely complicated. I’m not going to go into all of it now, but one of my jobs is to create an extremely detailed schedule for students in clinic. This is used to schedule patients in each service--if we have this many students, we can have this many patient slots per half-day, etc. Last week, two students were out unexpectedly, one who broke her arm the day before she was supposed to begin, and one who had a terrible anxiety attack and thought the symptoms were actually COVID. That student was tested and cleared negative, but Student Health requires a two-week quarantine anyway, so she was not allowed to return.

This meant that we now had multiple patients per day with no one to see them. We tried to reschedule as many as we could, but we still ended up with multiple overbooks. This is extremely stressful for me as both a provider, an instructor, and a human being who hates having other people wait on her in a professional capacity. We got through the week, but not without several painful bumps, and it’s looking like there will be more soon.

I also woke up to an email this morning that one of my favorite students (yes, I have favorites, I’m sorry), had a completely unexpected death in the immediate family and had to rush home. This is a very, very sweet, very smart girl who has worked unbelievably hard over the past year to do well in this program and in my courses, and I am just devastated for her. One of her friends is willing to cover her clinic, so the impact will be minimal on that side, but to have this happen during this country’s hellhole handling of this pandemic...I can’t even imagine it.

All of this isn’t even touching COVID. The President’s side has won in that sense--I don’t even register the numbers anymore--but as of last week our dean sent out messaging that implied that with our state’s failure to contain the spread, new discussions were going to be happening soon regarding our August start. We already had committed to full hybrid scheduling: all lectures online, in-person labs only where absolutely necessary to continue advancement in the program, and those labs limited to two per room with full PPE, but if they decide even that can’t happen, I don’t know what the fuck I’m going to do. I cannot make competent doctors over Zoom. I can’t. At some point they have to touch other people and look at other people’s eyes. They have to be able to check real, in-person blood pressure. They have to look at genuine eye movements and ocular surfaces in person and I cannot and will not let them enter clinic until they have the practice and the time and the practicals behind them. I fucking refuse to endanger the public for sixty years because someone in an office somewhere decided a timetable is more important than a patient keeping their ability to see, and I’m ready to fight administration on this if they try to push it.

But if I win the fight, what next? They just...don’t enter clinic next year. They don’t enter my program. I don’t know what they do in the meantime, as this lab meets four mornings a week and the lecture twice. The course is delayed until next year or whenever we have the virus under control again, and suddenly my fall semester sure looks like I’ll be being paid to stay at home and count carpet fibers. I don’t think they’ll fire me--no one else wants to teach my course anyway--but if I win this fight I might put myself right into furlough in the process.

I could be borrowing trouble, I know. They could come back and say that after review, our system and safety protocols (all extremely conservative) are indeed safe enough and we can proceed as we want. They could say that our limited in-person option for lectures (we have several gigantic lecture halls that could easily socially distance) is the only thing that needs to go. They could say that we just need to have smaller lab groups--hellish on me, but doable.

But it’s one more element of stress in my life that I just can’t handle worrying about right now, which is why I’ve been bouncing back and forth between random fics and oneshots (that mermaid one was feverishly written on a single evening Carol spent at her mom’s house) and pouring an ungodly amount of hours into Animal Crossing. At least there I have some control over what happens next.

Sorry, guys. I know this is not the happy update I was hoping for. I’ll try to check in again next month and we’ll see where things end up.