#well i was always a menthol (black) girl in my smoking days but those marlboro smooth mint ciggies were delicious !

[yatiso]

my oral fixation (in the same tongue people use to say special interest) used to be mint ciggies + mint vapes but now its mint gum + wooden toothpicks... maybe im not really a fiend for nicotine maybe i just love mint..

[box-of-kfics]

Ride or Die [M] (JBxReader)

Genre: Smut/Angst

Pairing: Gangster!Jaebum(but actually very soft!jb) x You

Warnings: Nothing much, just some makeup sex and a little drugs

Summary: Jaebum’s mad. Mad that you left without a word, and now he’s giving you back what you started.

Word count: 2k

Your name: submit What is this?

The wind tangled its fingers in his hair, blowing back every strand of hair on his head. 145 km/h was far off the speed limit, but he slammed down hard on the acceleration pedal anyway. He started to sit up, and then sank back weakly into the leather chair, a grimace washing over his face.

“Pass me another smoke,” he said impassively, red eyes still focusing intensely on the road. You hastily rummaged through the glove box for his packet of Marlboro ice blast, just the way he liked it. You would joke that that was his favourite flavour because it went along well with his unamiable personality. Ice cold indeed. Except that today wasn’t a good day for laughing matters. You smacked the box a few times with the palm of your hand and passed a stick to him. He picked it up with his mouth and nodded his head towards the lighter nesting in the cup holder. Getting the signal he was trying to bring across, you helped him light up his cigarette while he took in a deep breath of the sharp mint. Clouds of white escaped his lips with each puff, fading out through the window into the inky night.

“You think it was fun going to the club without telling me your whereabouts? You like guys seeing you in those skimpy clothes?” Jaebum said condescendingly.  You kept silent, not wanting to aggravate his temper by saying the wrong words, but that only added fuel to his anger. He passed you a quick glance, mouth set and eyes bleak.

“Not gonna say anything? Cat’s got your tongue missy?” He made an abrupt turn onto the side of the road, making you fling forward from the sudden jolt.

Thank goodness the seatbelt was holding you back.

Jaebum turned to face you, exhaling smoke in your direction. You coughed at the strong scent of nicotine.

“Jaebum, it isn’t a big deal. Why are you making a mountain out of an ant hole?” You folded your arms across your chest.

“Not a big deal? My girlfriend- MY girlfriend was at a club with devious men simpering at her and just look at what you’re wearing. That dress barely covers your ass. How dare you, y/n.” He berated, taking another hit. The red, angry glow of the cigarette seemed to grow brighter. You could feel the tension between the both of you heightening.

“Baby, I just wanted to have some fun with the girls tonight. I’m sorry for not telling you earlier, okay?” You said coolly. “Please don’t be mad.” You reached for his arm and gave it a tight squeeze.

“Don’t call me that.” Jaebum yanked his arm away and flicked the cigarette out of the window, letting it burn into ashes. A faint snigger found its way into the gloomy air. He rolled his neck and ran a hand through his hair. Your vision was blurry from the misty silhouette of the remaining smoke wafting around your heads. In that moment of discomfort, you found yourself choked up with shame. Jaebum rarely fought with you, and even if he did, he always gave in at the end. This time was different though. That action of yanking his arm away made you feel lousy; your efforts to mitigate the problem didn’t work. The alcohol had kicked in as well, feeding your deranged state. You prayed silently that you would pass out before things escalated. Jaebum was never one to break down easily, but when it came to you, he was putty in your hands.

“How would I know if you won’t do the same thing again?” A whimper made its way through his trembling words. He had completely lost to the high. You could barely see properly, but you knew from the hitching in his voice that he was about to dissolve in tears. “I can’t have other men looking at my girl like that. You’re mine, mine. All mine.”

Hearing his soft sniffles, it made you bite the inside of your cheeks. You never wanted to hurt him. However tough he appeared, he was just a delicate piece of glass.

Suddenly, drizzle started falling from the sky, rolling down the windshield in a steady stream. Jaebum sighed, then reluctantly rolled up the windows and turned on the heater. He removed his spiked leather jacket and threw it on the backseat. All he had on was a white tank top and fitting ripped black jeans. He gripped firmly on the steering wheel, averting his emotions somewhere else. You shivered as his well toned arms contracted at the same time as your heart did. His arm was a canvas for a long, ridged scar that ran from his shoulder to his elbow. But he wore it proudly- a reminder of fiery escapades that once fascinated him. The windows condensed under the contrast of temperatures as heat built up in the car, lending privacy before the other cars that drove past.

“You’re fucking beautiful, y/n.” Jaebum blurted, brushing his fingers over your cheek. He leaned towards you and planted sloppy kisses on your lips, his breath still lingering of menthol. In your daze, you threaded your fingers into his hair, pulling him closer to you.

“Aren’t you mad at me?”

He answered you with another kiss, this time exploring the insides of your mouth. His insistent mouth parting your shaking lips, tongue fighting for dominance over yours. You pulled away from the kiss, only to be greeted by look of immense desire etched on his face. It was so clear that you wondered where he’d hid it for so long. You buried your face in the crook of his neck, sucking lightly on the sensitive skin below his ear. He responded with a soft groan, low in his throat, and then lowered his chair as you climbed on top on him. Your dress rode up your hips as you unsteadily straddled his lap. Putting your weight on him, your chests collided, melting into each other. Other than the scent of cigarettes, you inhaled his citrusy cologne, his shampoo, the scent that was just… him. The tiny car offered little to none space to manoeuvre; nothing could contain the excitement growing in your core. The persistent pounding in your head added to the numbness you felt as his fingers brushed roughly against your laced panties. Just one stroke of his skilful finger sent wild tremors along your nerves, evoking sensations you never known you were capable of feeling.

“I’m mad. Still mad, and this is your punishment.” With an impatient hand, he drew your underwear down your thighs – and did even quicker work of removing his pants. You fumbled lifting your dress off your head until Jaebum ripped it away and threw it onto the backseat. He grabbed your ass harshly, not caring if his nails dug into your skin, and gave it a firm smack. Your body responded by jerking towards him, your long hair hovering over his face. He pulled back your hair with one hand and with the other, firmly cupped your chin.

“I’ll show you what it means by being mine.” He dipped his hand into your glistening pussy, rubbing harshly at the bundle of nerves. Your legs shook at the sensitivity and your fists grabbed fiercely at his white tank. You wanted more, you wanted to taste every inch of his body. Similarly, he wanted to eat at your intoxicated lips, down to your sweet cunt. His fingers pierced through your body like a bullet, plunging them in like there was no tomorrow. As your essence covered his fingers, you couldn’t help but to mew in pleasure. Two fingers working in you, a little uncomfortable but nothing you couldn’t handle. Your eyes rolled back into your head as he crooked his finger, hitting you in the spots that made your moans turn into a high-pitched orgasm.

“F-fuck... It feels so good.” You slurred. His bulge throbbed in his pants and you could feel it thumping against your sex. You were seeing two of him, daze washing over you.

“Tell me how much you want it,” he growled into your ear. You squirm beneath his touch, body aching for more of him. You squeeze his thigh hard, leaving red imprints.

“So fucking-” another moan escaped your lips as you ground your convulsing pussy on his thick thighs.

“So fucking badly.”

Jaebum mewed at the sensation of your wetness on him. His cock was rock hard and pulsing repeatedly against your abdomen.

“This badly?” He wantoned, sliding the tip of his member over your slit. He pushed his head in ever so slightly, only to remove it again and again.

“Please,” you begged. “Please Jaebum, give it to me.”

He continued to tease you, slapping his cock against your clit. You let out a loud gasp as you clenched your toes, every muscle drawn taut. You whined as you pleaded for his thick cock to fill you up. You wanted to relish in the feeling of his warmth in you, reaching deep into your womb. His cock was now red, hot and angry; the head of his penis tingled unbearably, a drop of precum forming at the slit. Sensing how much he wanted you as well, you lift yourself above his hips, and then sunk yourself down. Rotating your hips around him, you found a good tempo with the buckling of his hips. He bit down on his lips hard, a vein on his neck becoming visible. Your eyes flutter and you are lost in bliss.

“You are mine,” he grunts out, pumping into you, the length and level of his arousal brutal.

“Mine,” he swears. He doesn’t slow the movement, giving you full, hard thrusts, your breasts bouncing off your chest. In that moment, nothing seemed to matter except for him sliding in and out of you. You slide your hands down his biceps, tracing the scar, clamping your legs around his waist, driving him further into you until your sweat-slick bodies stain the car seat. His face winces as your velvet insides envelops him into paradise.

A familiar heat buzzes in your belly, but he is still ruthless, wanting to engrave himself into you. Jaebum continues at it, this time with even harder thrusts. The sound of skin slapping became even louder.

“Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck. y/n, you feel so good on my dick.” He ran his hand over your chest, rolling your bud between his fingers, pinching and pulling at it.

Your back arches as you feel his dick pulsing in your sex. You guide his hand to your clit and used it to rub it hard.

“I’m, I’m cumming babe.” You cry as Jaebum pounds even harder than before. The car shook underneath his primitive act.

“Wait for me, y/n.” He says, and with one last pinch to your clit, you can feel yourself losing control of your body.

Both of you crumble into sand as your orgasms pierces through your bodies. He empties his viscous fluid in you and pulls out, some spilling on your stomach. You squirm at the feeling of his hot cum in you, amazed at how he fills you up so well every time. He uses a finger to swipe the cum off your slit and puts it into your mouth. You obediently lick it all off.

He reaches to the back of the car for your clothes and helps you put it back on.

“Are we okay now?”

Jaebum nods and pulls you into another heated kiss.

“Don’t do it again.” He pants, chest heaving heavily.

But if he’ll punish you with such means each time, you’re not sure if you won’t do it again.

[jugheadtheangstyteen-blog]

Bughead fanfic

CW: smoking

I don’t really write fanfic, so I’m giving it a shot,  Please feel free to give me feedback, I find it very helpful.

********************************       

I turned my phone on, tapping spotify.  “When You Were Young” by The Killers playing softly in my headphones.  I sighed.  This song always reminded me of Jughead.

It was a chilly spring morning as I stepped out onto the front lawn.  I loved listening to the birds sing and watch the world wake up on my daily walk to school.  

The sun was up, but there was still a little fog from the cold night.  I shivered as I zipped my baby blue coat up to the chin.  I was glad I decided to wear jeans instead of a skirt today, or I would have froze.  

As I turned the corner, I glanced over my shoulder to make sure mom wasn’t watching me.  No one was around.  I swung my backpack around and slipped a pack of cigarettes out of the front pocket.  I know, it’s surprising that Betty Cooper isn’t a perfect girl.  The nicotine helps deal with the stress.  I take them from dad’s toolbox in the garage.  He’s too busy fighting with mom to care to ask who takes them.  But I take precautions to make sure that no one knows, not even Veronica or Archie.

I stop for a moment at the edge of a field to pull a cigarette out of the pack.  I light it with my left hand, my right shielding my eyes from the sun.  I thought I saw a figure with black hair on the other side of the field.  Closing my eyes, I take an inhale.  Slowly I exhale.  I could already feel the stress starting to dissolve.

I made my way across the field, taking my time to enjoy the nature.  My eyes wander, and I notice the figure once again.  The figure was closer now, it looked like someone on a bike….

And then I realized: It’s Jughead.  He talked about getting Archie’s old bike yesterday during lunch.    

I immediately kneeled to the ground, putting out my cigarette in the dirt.  I yank my headphones out, shaking slightly as I put them back in my bag.  Jughead clearly recognized me and had leaned his bike against a tree, walking towards me.

My heart pounded.  I tried to look innocent as I continue walking along the little route I always take to school, which incidentally, is directly where Jughead was currently walking towards me.

I couldn’t look him in the eyes, afraid that I’ll see disappointment or disgust.  I walk with my eyes downcast, until Jughead is close enough that he speaks.

“Hey, Betty!  I was hoping I’d find you on your walk to school.”

“Hey Jughead.  Yeah, I usually take the walk alone…” I reply, a slight and faked annoyance tainting my speech.  I was more annoyed that he caught me smoking than the fact that he found my walking route.  The latter was actually kind of sweet.

“Oh…” Jughead seemed flustered.  “Well I saw you in the field, and you seemed like you saw a field mouse or something, you looked so panicked that I thought I would come see if you’re okay.”

I laughed “Oh yeah, it just came out of nowhere and I panicked!”  I felt relieved.  He didn’t know I was panicking about smoking, he thought it was about a mouse!  I’d never be afraid of a little mouse, but it was a good excuse.  Cover not blown.

“I mean, I also saw you smoking..”

Suddenly I met his gaze, too stunned to say anything.  He didn’t look angry, or disappointed, just confused.  God, his blue eyes looked so stunning in the morning mist of the field.  

“I..um..” I stammered, breaking eye contact.  I sighed.  “Yeah, it helps with stress.  I jumped because no one knows that I smoke so when I saw you I panicked.  I mean, everyone expects me to get perfect grades, be a perfect girl, especially my mom, so I have a lot of stress and I guess this is better than stress eating...I know it’s stupid..”

Jughead smirked.  “Well I’m not here to give you a lecture.  I really don’t care, although it is bad for your health.  I would hate to see you in the hospital.  But I’m not here to judge.  You don’t have to be perfect.  Go ahead and smoke.”

I smiled.  He was the best.  Veronica can be so bossy, and Archie so preachy that they always seemed to have some criticism whenever I had a problem to deal with.  But Jughead did neither of those things.  He just let me be.  No expectations to fall short of.

I reached back into my bag as we walked together the rest of the way through the field.  I lit the cigarette, taking a quick drag before asking, “You really don’t mind?  I don’t want to smoke around you if you don’t want to get secondhand smoke in your lungs.”

He looked me in the eyes, plucked my cigarette from my lips, and took a drag.  “Yuck, I didn’t take you for a Newport girl” he joked, pulling a face of disgust.  

I giggled “Yeah, somehow menthols taste better to me than just plain Marlboro reds.”

“Anyway,” Jughead said.  “No, I don’t mind.  I smoke too.  It’s kind of a household hobby for the Joneses.”

Just then he took the cigarette from his mouth and placed it ever so delicately between my lips.  My heart fluttered and I stopped in my tracks.  He was so close, his eyes piercing me.

“Hey, don’t stop now, we're going to be late for school.”  Jughead reached for my upper back and gave me a gently push towards his bike.  “Just hop on my handlebars.”

I snapped out of my crush-induced trance, looking over Jughead’s shoulder.  Along the edge of the field, a deer’s head poked through the mist.  

“Oh my god, look a deer!”  I whispered excitedly, instinctively grabbing Jughead’s arm.  His jean jacket was surprisingly warm.

Jughead froze.  We stood there for a few seconds in silence, my hand still gripping his sleeve.  He stood only slightly in front of me, but close enough for me to smell his shampoo.  I wanted so badly to wrap my arms around him, but I let the moment pass.  

“Isn’t it beautiful.” I whispered.

“Yeah” he breathed.  

The deer noticed us and sprinted into the brush.  I let go of his arm.

“Okay, now we really ought to get going.”  He said, making his way to his bike.  Once more he turned to me and pulled the cigarette from my lips, taking a few draws.  “Actually, I really don’t mind Newports.  Maybe part of it is that you’re smoking them.” He muttered.  

My cheeks became warm and pink.  I looked away so that he couldn’t tell how utterly infatuated I was with him.  I wondered if he could taste my chapstick on the cigarette butt.  

He handed the cigarette back to me as he reached for his bike.  I took the last few drags and flicked it into the street and he straightened his bike.  

“Hop on.” Jughead said.  

“Umm...I’m not so sure about this.  I don’t want to be thrown off of the handlebars and get all scratched up.”  

“Archie and I did this all the time as kids, I’ve had plenty of practice balancing people on my handlebars.” He assured me.

“Okay,” I sighed, mounting the handlebars of his black bike.  “Can you see?”

“Just describe what you see to me, and I’ll do whatever you say.  Be my eyes,” Jughead said, pushing off of the curb.

I was surprised, Jug was right.  He kept the bike very steady as I gripped his handlebars with white knuckles.  I was tempted to turn around and smile at him, but I was afraid I would throw off his balance.

“Up ahead there’s a stop sign.  Take a left.” I told him.

“Yeah, I see it.” He said, his bike squeaking to a stop.  “Lean in a little to the turn.”

I trusted him.  As he guided the bike forward and to the left, I let myself lean.  It was the first time I’d rode someone’s handlebars, so I assumed it was just like riding on the seat.  I guess I leaned a little too much, and I could feel the bike start to shake.  

“Woah Betty!  Not too much!” Jughead’s bike screeched to a stop, and he grabbed my waist to stop me from falling.

“Oh shit!” I exclaimed, my feet grabbing for a part of the bike to hold onto.  

He let go of my waist as I slipped off of the handlebars.  “Maybe I can sit on the back?” I asked.  His bike had a small rack on his back tire.

“Yeah, that might be a better idea.  At least until you get some more practice.”

“Dude, I think you need more practice.  It seems like it’s been awhile since you’ve had a guest on your handlebars.”

“All right all right, get on the back.” Jughead said.

I felt his eyes on me as I got on the back of his bike.  It was slightly more comfortable on the rack, and from this angle I could be closer to him.  All the better, it was an excuse to wrap my arms around him.

“Okay, it might be bumpier back there so hold on tight!”  

“Just don’t go over any potholes.” I said.

The rest of the bike ride to school was silent.  I closed my eyes and felt the wind and sun on my face as Jughead pedaled his way through the early morning streets.  Soon enough we had arrived at school.  As he biked up to the bike rack, he skidded to a stop.

“Alright, I think this is you.”  Jughead said, turning his head to lock eyes with mine.

“Um, I think this is us, unless you’re skipping school?” I said.  I wondered if he could hear the yearning in my voice.  God, I didn’t want to sound desperate, but I wanted to make sure that I could see him in the hallways.  Seeing him around school always improved my mood.  I dismounted his bike as he clicked his bike lock into the rack.

“I mean, Archie asked me to meet up with him before 1st period, so I’m not going to walk in with you, but don’t worry, I’ll be in school all day.”  He smirked.  “Maybe I’ll meet you for a post-lunch smoke break.”

I lightly pushed his shoulder, “Jug, shh!  No one knows about this but you!”  

His eyebrow went up in an exaggerated expression of intrigue.  “Oooooooh, hmmm...I’m the only one who knows the true Betty….not so perfect is she.” He joked.

I blushed lightly.  “Shut up.  Just keep the true Betty to yourself.”  I made my way to the front entrance of the school.  I bit my lip to hide the smile that came from the idea of Jughead taking pride in knowing the “real” me.  I guess he really cared.  

Before I opened the door, I looked back towards the bike rack to catch one last glimpse of his wonderfully blue eyes.  As I turned I saw that he was still there, looking at me, but quickly looked away and strode over towards the football field, acting like he didn’t see me.  I laughed.  I swear to god, that boy is really something.     

[ravelrie]

burning up for your love

this is a story about one of the countless ways burning man changed my life. it’s the story of the most tangible way it’s changed everything. i know what you’re thinking, another cliche blog post about how a white girl with privilege spent a week getting weird in the desert and came back this entirely different, but totally the same, person. 

some of the changes i noticed in myself and my life echo the same themes or even are phrased similarly to those that have come before me, and those that will come after me, because we live by the same set of values when we’re out there. i think as human beings, we all go out there looking for similar lessons. we look for comfort, answers, clarity, to figure out how to let go, and most of all, how to move forward as the most authentic version of ourselves (and sometimes come home doing this with [reckless] abandon). we are immersed in this deeply creative and chaotic community of intelligent beings -- there’s no way to come out of that and not feel at least kind of different when it’s all over and you’re back in the default world. 

i wasn’t expecting anything from burning man. i had no interest in having a playa romance, or engaging in anything other than the occasional “kiss me hard to say hello” greeting shared between dusty pals. somehow, i serendipitously found the love of my life, the penultimate experience i thought i’d have at burning man, followed only by being trapped in a bathroom at the trash fence. 

you may have read up to this point and be thinking, “okay, here we go, an essay about self-love and acceptance,” and while there are elements of that in what’s to come, it’s more-so a comedy full of “how the f*ck is this a real life experience?!”. 

so, here it goes...

ONCE UPON A TIME, in a desert reasonably far away from my upper east side apartment, i met the man i’d someday call my partner. it was a perfect night on the playa. it was a Wednesday (but just barely). it was warm, not too dusty, and clear views out to the trash fence were everywhere. i was wearing mad hatter socks, knee high doc marten platform boots, a bikini top, booty shorts, a white dress with chains down my back, white fur vest, and possibly a tiny top hat, but i may have removed it by this point. Oh, and i had goggles on and was riding a tricycle. 

i was adventuring around with one of my playa pals from Australia, who didn’t bring a bike to this desert as it actually was far, far away from the Gold Coast. we ended up at carl cox’s legendary white party at opulent temple, but decided to leave and check out more art installations and other sound camps. while I waited for him to find one of the brightly yellow colored community bikes, i sat perched atop my tricycle, lighting a menthol and staring off toward the mountains and many blinking lights to the west. suddenly, i see two white furry goggled things on bike racing toward me. 

One of the bikes pulled up gently beside my tricycle and began chatting. 

bike one: Hi! Are you having fun? How’s your burn going so far?

me: hey, it’s good so far, but -- and i never thought i’d ever say this -- i’m a little bored by carl’s set.

bike one: Us too, we’re leaving. (points to the second speeding bike making it’s way toward us) Can i happen to bum a cigarette by chance?

me: Sure! I just lit this menthol, but i have Marlboro lights and blue american spirits in my backpack if you prefer something different

bike one:A menthol would be great, actually! Thank you!

As i’m handing over the cigarette and lighter, the other bike stops short right in front of my tricycle, blowing dust into my face and shouts over the bass to strike up a conversation. 

bike two: You shouldn’t talk to him, he’s basically the worst person ever, also, smoking is the worst ever.”

Feeling sassy, I took a drag of my cigarette, ashed it in my portable ashtray prior to responding: Really? I think you’re the worst ever, you just got dust in my face! 

bike two: You know what, fuck your burn!

me: No, no, fuck your burn!

Bike two guy and I laughed in unison, eyes locked in on one another. As we giggled, more of his friends gathered around us, and my friend was suddenly back with a community bike. Once we realized other people were around us, we started chatting about our night moves, and if we should make them together.

bike two: So, what are you up to now?

me: We’re going to head back to the east side and try and find skrillex at camp questionmark

bike two: Us too! Do you, like, want to, i mean, should we just go together?

me: Sure, sounds like fun.

I wouldn’t learn his last name for five days, but we did spend 8 - 12 hours (time is weird and not super existent in black rock city) together, chasing and climbing art cars, trying to see skrillex everywhere, we thought he might pop up, and only separated to use the port-o-potties, which we ended up using the ones next to each other so we could still chat through the walls. 

Our friends just stared, and then followed us along the curve of the esplanade to camp q, where skrillex was not playing at the posted time, but major lazer was playing and we got whompy and wonky and my friend tapped me on the shoulder to leave because the bass was too much, and i said i would stay, we had new friends here, i’m sure i’d be okay ...what?! Why would i ever do this?! Ah, it’s burning man, i thought, fuck it, i feel safe with him, no idea why, and we’re having a lot of fun, so, might as well enjoy staring at diplo and dancing with fun people. I had also learned this entire group’s first names by this point. A was the most fun of the bunch. 

My friend left, and I stayed with this crew, well, this guy, for the rest of the night. Suddenly it was Thursday morning, and September, and we were still dancing, but on top of the camp q stage now, in our white furs, staring at each other and laughing, and just wiggling around to the music. Someone tapped us on the shoulder and said “wow, you guys are such a great burner couple! Your vibes are amazing and i love that you coordinated your outfits!” ‘thanks…’ we said in unison. ‘we met, like, four hours ago…’ “oh no way! That’s so dope! Rave on, guys!” and then we received a high five, and just looked at each other and laughed some more. 

We hadn’t kissed until just before this moment. I was dating someone back in NYC at the time, but hadn’t thought about them at all until here i was, about to kiss a cute guy on an art car stage. As i would later find out, he was dating someone seriously as well, back in a city across the country. Our noses had grazed while we were dancing, and he’d told me that my “body feels so soft, great job moisturizing” when he felt a patch of my skin on my back as he pulled me closer to him to get through the crowd, arm under my vest. We kissed and i can’t adequately articulate everything i felt as it was happening. Four hundred and twenty one days later, I still can’t explain it. but, there we were, griz playing 5 feet away from us, diplo dancing behind him, on top of camp question mark, ground shaking from the bass, noses barely touching, foreheads together, goggles and glasses moved to be headbands of sorts, and our lips met. his hands moved around my waist, feeling up my bare spine, pulling me into him, my arms tangled under his and around him, and i felt...grounded. there were many other feelings related to chemistry that are important, but the thing that sticks out to me most is feeling grounded, in the place least based in reality on earth. 

we continued our adventure once we came down from the stage area, re-acquainted ourselves with the group, holding hands now at all moments we weren’t on our bikes. 

there is more to the story about this night, best told in a separate post. the takeaway has been largely that from this single set of choices, i spent 363 days trying not to admit i was falling in love, and then very much in love, with this man. everything was wrong and working against this single night turning into something more. i rode home into the sunrise thursday morning, played in some art installations en route, and sleepily collapsed in my yurt, unable to shake him from my mind. his ability to stick there like someone super-glued him to everything was foreign to me because i’d never felt like this, close, yes, but never quite like this. i woke up friday morning in my camp’s shade structure, clad in pasties, booty shorts, a blue unicorn onesie, and light-blocking eye mask, and A tapping me to wake up up, saying, “um, hey, hil?” 

waking up to him there, just sitting near my feet, felt right, like it was already just the everyday thing that happened. we spent the next four days together, until he left, constantly together. we explored, we danced, we talked, we climbed anything and everything we could. we lost our bikes and embarked on a champagne campaign to find them, then offered gummy bears to an artist taking down an installation to cut the lock off because we lost the key the night before. 

i was in his city a few weeks after for work. we exchanged numbers as he was readying to leave the desert, and planned to grab a drink and catch up. the rest is history, as they would say, but it’s mostly us being friends and navigating everything we felt for each other in the default world, where we also had strong feelings for our people there. we held each other’s hands through the breakups that happened a few months after returning home for him, and the on/off breaking up but back together for me, partaking in the world of online dating and profile creation and photo choices, talked every single day. ended up with the same 8ft unicorn pool floats as a random coincidence. would facetime at random moments. my mom got really sick. he would always pick up when i called at a weird hour, and the few times he didn’t, he always called me back or sent me a quick text to see what was going on. he offered to fly out when i buried her. i went out in june for work, and it’d been so many months since we’d touched, and seen each other in real life. standing on post street, i watched him run through the cross walk, felt him pick me up and spin me around, and then, he kissed me, as if it was the most natural thing in the world to do in that moment. our friendship had been complicated, but fairly chaste since we had significant others. but here we were, kissing on a street corner in union square, both single, both elated to be in the same city and in front of each other. we realized we should probably give this a go, since the timing was lining up okay to try and be together. he told me he loved me the second day of burning man this year, like it was something we just said to each other every day. here we are, 421 days later, in love, not afraid to plan for the future, and taking everything as a welcome baby step. 

I ramble on about these things because in them are all the lessons that we learn from burning man that take time to sink in and manifest: patience, communication, trust, flexibility, and most of all, balance. 

i fell in lust with someone not knowing their last name for five days, and drinking pedialyte biking around a desert. i fell in love with someone who is funny, kind, adventurous, smart, handsome, passionate, logically spontaneous, and who isn’t afraid to be just as he is, and lets me be just as i am, without ever thinking to ask me to change something about what makes me, me. when you meet at burning man, you can’t pretend to be something or someone you’re not. you just are who you are. you don’t smell great, you’re sweaty ALL THE TIME. you’re also covered in dirt and dust and may have been wearing the same pair of underwear for 3 straight days. you’re just existing and being present in everything, everywhere you are. 

we live 2,911 miles from each other, according to google maps. we spend a lot of time on logistics, but we’re always present. there isn’t anything that takes precedence over one another in our lives. we make the time to coexist because somehow, the universe brought us together, and handed us a pretty shit situation, and we communicated through it, grew through it, and realized that what we felt for each other, was love. 

i’m that girl that went to burning man once, and met my future. i met myself, i met my partner, and i met the life i’d always wanted to have, knowing that you don’t have to compromise adventure for normalcy. 

it’s a messy journey to a fairy tale ending, but i like it that way.