#anyway wish me luck i’m actually in so much pain….

[thebibliosphere]

I probably have hEDS, have had tense muscles since I was 8 and more and more of my joints started to be in constant pain, 10 years spine, 14 years hips, then hands at 19 and now all of them. And though I'm over 40 and don't practice any stretching, I still can contort myself in any direction.

But I don't know if it's worth the energy to fight for a diagnosis? Because it doesn't seem like there is any help, other than mild painkillers and physiotherapy, and I already get that. It is so much work to convince doctors to look into the source of joint pain, as soon as they can rule out rheumatoid arthritis they stop caring. And I don't belive I will get stronger painkillers even with a diagnosis anyway.

Do you think a diagnosis is woth the hassel?

For me, diagnosis was worth it because it meant getting the correct kind of physical therapy, which is often very different from the regular kind you usually get if the physical therapist is good at their job.

Regular PT used to damage my joints more. PT designed to target hypermobility has actually helped build joint stability, retrain my muscles, and reduce some of my pain by lessening the frequency of injuries.

It’s also good to know because hEDS affects more than just your joints.

I have a lot of problems with my internal organs due to how my connective tissue is affected, and my brother, who is undiagnosed but likely affected, suffered from spontaneous retina detachment twice. When I mentioned it to my eye doctor he said, “yeah, that happens to you zebras” and now I get my retinal health assessed every six months because fuck that.

It can also be good to know because of how it affects your care during things like surgery, ranging from which anesthesia they use to the type of sutures required.

When my mother had a mastectomy, she experienced several surgical complications, including not being able to get the wound site to close, so they kept dragging her back into surgery.

When I found out, I told my dad the surgical team needed to know my mother likely had hEDS because I did, and my mother and I are carbon copies of each other. When my dad told the surgeon, he apparently said, “Well, if I’d known that, I’d have done the whole thing differently!” and finally got my mother stitched up properly and into recovery.

In that regard, my diagnosis helped not just me but a family member, but also indicated the type of care I’ll likely need if I’m ever in the same situation.

So, yes, it's a hassle to get diagnosed and some (bad) doctors will frame it in terms of “there’s no cure so there’s no point.”

But for me, it’s not only been worth it but also vital to the management of the rest of my care. And let me be clear, there are some people for whom this is just a crappy joint disorder, and they are otherwise fine. But for many of us, we’re more than just our fucky joints. We’re an entire plethora of health problems that all cascade from our weak connective tissue, and it's important more people recognize that.

So is it worth it for you? That's a you decision. But it was very much worth it for me.

I wish you luck and fewer days of pain. This shit sucks.

[awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce]

Peace At Last

A purely self-indulgent Ten x Reader fic because I just love Ten so much okay! (gif made by me)

Let me know what you think!

Read on ao3

Tagging some people I’ve recently followed who I think might like it: @denaliwrites @tatennant @doctor-donnaa @quite-right-too @theetherealbloom @my-lonely-angel @casasupernovas @kbishop @tennant @raining-stars-somewhere-else @davidtennan-t

Ten x Reader, she/her/hers pronouns, one use of Y/N

(Sorry if this causes pain especially since it’s the last episode with Fourteen and David Tennant as The Doctor today. Wishing everyone so much love and hope you can cope with the pain we will all be experiencing in 5 hours!)

They bumped into each other.

Literally.

He wasn’t looking where he was going, just trying to focus on not collapsing in the street before he could make it back to the TARDIS, and she was coming out of a shop.

This was almost the end.

He could feel it.

He felt it when he saw Rose but he couldn’t let go.

Not yet.

He had one more stop.

He wanted to be near where she lived.

He just wanted to be near her.

One last time.

He didn’t want to wipe her memory but he had to.

It wasn’t like it was with Donna but he knew that one day she would die because of him and he didn’t want that.

He couldn’t bear the thought.

It had to be done so she could live and she never would have left of her own accord. She would never leave him willingly so what other choice did he have?

Especially after trying to change time and becoming The Time Lord Victorious. Look how that turned out.

Adelaide Brooke still died only it was his fault instead of it being an accident.

“Oh shit! Sorry! I should have been looking where I was going!” A voice said.

“No, it’s m-” He knew that voice. His luck really was great(!)

He must’ve paused for a beat too long because she spoke again. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

That was her all over. Always worrying and caring about others (him especially).

“Yeah! I’m fine!” He replied, trying to sound nonchalant. “Just feeling a bit under-the-weather. Winter and all, you know?” His voice didn’t sound like him. It was nervous, slightly high-pitched, and shook a little. He hoped that she didn’t know that there was something wrong.

“I know. You might want to invest in some actual winter clothes though to keep you warm. Converse and winter are not the best combination,” she laughed, looking him up and down at his unusual (to her now anyway) attire.

He could’ve cried and hugged her at hearing the jibe she’s told him multiple times while travelling with him. Instead, he forced himself to laugh and smile at her.

“Yeah, I suppose I should. Maybe one day,” he replied, scratching the back of his neck. A habit that he had developed when he was nervous.

She would have noticed and usually tried to comfort him. But not now. The thought made his hearts ache.

“Sorry but do I know you?” She asked, staring at him with a slight frown. His hearts leapt into his throat. “You just seem so familiar. What’s your name?”

He quickly composed himself before replying with a classic phrase. “No, sorry, I don’t think you do. I guess I just have one of those faces. Name’s David. David Smith.”

She had told him to stop with the John Smith alias as “no-one believes that’s your name. I may as well call myself Jane Doe.” So he had changed it as soon as he wiped her mind. Just in case he ever saw her again and the name John Smith made her remember.

“David…” She trailed off, as if she was trying to place the name, still slightly frowning until the crease between her eyebrows eased. “I guess you do just face on of those faces. Sorry about that,” she finished, smiling sheepishly.

He mentally released a breath that he didn’t realise he was holding.

“No worries,” he replied, smiling to try to ease her embarrassment that he knew she was feeling.

She may not remember him but he still knew her like the back of every hand he’s ever had.

They stood there for a few moments, longer than two seemingly strangers should, just smiling at each other before she looked away, a light blush colouring her already flushed cheeks from the cold.

His hearts ached again and pain filled his entire being.

He would never get to see her blush from embarrassment due to looking at him for too long again.

“I should probably go before the snow gets worse,” she said.

He looked around and noticed that the snow had started to get heavier since they had been talking.

“Of course. Get home safe.” His voice cracked. Home should be in the TARDIS with him.

“You too. Before you go,” she said, putting a hand on his arm as he was turning the leave.

He could feel the pain of having to leave her almost bring him to his knees due to feeling her touch again. It had felt so long since he had felt that and he never wanted her to stop.

He would never feel her comforting touch or her hand in his again and he was starting to break

She was rummaging through her bag and took out a blue scarf. TARDIS blue.

“Here,” she said softly as she leaned up on her tip toes and wrapped it around his neck. “I don’t know why but I just bought this. It’s not really my thing and I don’t have anyone else to give it to but there was something in my mind that urged me to buy it. Maybe this was fate,” she chuckled. “There! Looks great!” She grinned, smoothing out the scarf and his breath caught as her fingers grazed the back of his head.

“Thank you, he responded quietly, tears filling his eyes “Truly. Thank you.” He took her hands in his and kissed the back of them.

“You’re very welcome,” she said, just as quietly as him, and blushed once more.

He let go of her hands and took a step back. He swore that he saw disappointment on her face at that.

He didn’t have time to dwell on it for too long as she had thrown her arms tightly around his waist and pressed her face into his chest, taking a deep breath of him in.

He wasn’t sure if his hearts had stopped completely or if they were beating so fast that he couldn’t feel them beating properly anymore.

He wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head, taking in the familiar and comforting scent.

The hug ended as quickly as it had started but before he could feel too disappointed, she had placed her hands on his shoulders, almost wrapping her arms around his neck like the scarf was, and pressed her lips to his cheek.

She stepped back and smiled brightly at him

“Merry Christmas, Doctor,” she said as she walked away.

He was frozen.

Did she just-?

Could she-?

No.

She couldn’t remember him.

Could she?

His brain was working faster than normal.

“Merry Christmas, Y/N,” he called after her before he knew was he was doing.

She briefly turned back and waved, that beautiful smile still on her lips, lighting up her whole face.

“Merry Christmas, my love,” he whispered, turning the corner as quickly as he could to find the TARDIS before him.

He could feel the old girl humming happily in his head and he smiled at her in return.

The image of his love didn’t leave his mind.

Not even as he noticed Ood Sigma.

Not even as he started to feel the pain of death returning.

Even when the Ood started singing to him and he felt himself burning, he could still see her.

Her smile bright and warm, helping him find peace.

At last.

~ A few streets away ~

“Huh. That was weird,” she said out loud.

Shrugging, she entered a café, still smiling and felt a warmth that travelled deep into her soul.

[claimedcrossbows]

Served! Sanji x Fem!Reader pt. 3 (Finale?)

Anime Spoilers/Foreshadowing

It took a while gathering all of the ingredients and of course teaching Sanji how to prepare the dish, but you were once again surprised with how fast he picked up on things, maybe even a little bit jealous, but of course you’d never tell him that.

“How did you learn these recipes?” He asked while mixing the soup until all of the ingredients were combined and ready to stew.

You sighed, “My grandmother owned this restaurant and happened to be one of those individuals that never quite trusted doctors you know? And after the passing of my mother all faith in doctors went out the window and she decided to make her own medicines, which through lots of trial and error actually turned out to do wonders. Next thing she knew sailors of all sorts were coming to the restaurant just for her healing recipes ,which of course made business boom.” You explained.

Sanji continued the soup but his focus was completely locked onto you as you talked.

“Eventually she started researching numerous other recipes that she heard whispers about from many people passing through and as I got older she eventually taught those recipes to me in hopes that I would not only become a great chef, but a great healer as well and of course always look out for my sister.” You explained.

Sanji gives you a warm smile, “Well you seem to be a great big sister, she couldn’t stop boasting about how amazing you were as she assisted me.” He revealed.

You smile at that, “I’m sure she thinks i’m a pain at times, but it’s all for her benefit, all we have is each other.” You say as a sad smile glosses over your lips.

You both fall into a silence as the aroma of the soup begins to fill the room in a way that immediately relaxes you, it reminds you so much of her.

“What about you, Why is a cook as good as you on a pirate ship?” You asked curiously.

He gently laughs, “It’s a long story, but to cut it short, I want to find the All Blue.” He says simply as he sets a timer for the soup and sits himself by you on the counter.

Your eyes widen at this, you had heard that name many times from your grandmother, you were convinced that if she hadn’t had to raise you and your sister, she probably would’ve set out to find it herself.

“You think it’s real?” You ask genuinely.

“It has to be.” He says.

“You sound like my grandmother, she always told me tales about a exotic sea filled with all sorts of sea life, weeds, plants..truly a cooks paradise.” You smiled remembering her enthusiasm.

“And i’m going to find it.” Sanji says sounding self assured, something you noticed he was quite often.

“Well, I wish you the best of luck..but I found it’s best not to get your hopes up on things, that will save you a lot of heartache.” You advised.

“Speaking from experience?” He questions gently not wanting to pry but ever so curious.

“My Grandmother tried her best to save my mother, in the end, nothing she did worked, and she couldn’t set out to sea to find the all blue, so not everyone dreams get fulfilled right?” You say.

“What’s your dream?” He asks his gaze lingering.

“Well right now it’s to get this soup done so your hungry captain can leave my restaurant.” You say bluntly.

Sanji laughs, “Fair, but really what is it?”

Your about to respond but your sister comes in hurriedly, “Y/N, another letters arrived, I think it’s from him again.” She says frowningly.

You sigh opening the letter giving it a quick scan before tearing it right down the middle.

“Everything okay?” Sanji questions.

You shrug, “It’s nothing, anyway this soup should be ready in a few hours i’m going to the study, make sure you give it a stir every once in a while.” You say lifting yourself off the counter and walking upstairs to your study leaving your sister and Sanji by themselves.

-

You sighed looking over numerous papers on your desk and you groaned clutching your head at the ever forming headache that was approaching.

A knock on your door once again snapped you out of your thoughts as you yelled for whoever it was to come in.

To your surprise you saw your little sister, “Y/n, thought I should tell you the soup is ready, Sanji wanted to know was there any particular way he should serve it to his friend?” She asks you.

“Add in a pinch of chili flakes, it’ll help that lady sweat out that fever.” You advise.

Your sister nods and goes to leave before stopping, “Was the letter from earlier him?” She asks hesistantly.

You look up at her and nod, “Yes, but not to worry it’s fine.” You say smoothily, even though your head ache was at full spin.

She observes your desk of papers and frowns, “Are those all bills..?” She hesistantly asks.

“And a sprinkle of shut off notices.” You mutter.

“Y/N, maybe I should reply back to him if it help-”

You slam a hand directly on the table, it’s sound reverbing and echoing though the walls, causing your sister to flinch back. “Absolutely not, I said I have this handled, besides with our new ranking in the papers by the critic i’m sure business will pick up again soon.” You explained.

“But this guy sounds very rich and I hear he’s sailing close by I mean would it hurt to at least hear what he says?” Your sister meakly asks.

You scoff, “Marigold, do you want to be a chef?” You ask her plainly and bluntly searching her taken aback face as you stand and approach her.

“You know I want nothing else-” ”Then act like it, and trust me when I say I have everything handled-”

“Yeah you keep saying that, but Y/N you can’t do everything by yourself-”

“I’m not,I have you don’t I?” You ask.

Your sister shoots you an unreadable blank stare her head facing down as she speaks lowly, “All i’m saying is maybe accepting this man’s proposal wouldn’t be such a bad thing..” She breathes.

You freeze at this, “Are you trying to become a bride?” You say baffled at your sisters sudden attitude, for as long as you could remember your sister did nothing but exclaim about being a chef like your Grandma, absolutely swearing off any type of boy that came her way, saying she had no time to be someone’s housewife, but now she was staring at you with the most crestfallen of faces, all passion deprived of those youthful and ambitious eyes that helped you get out of bed in the morning to face another day, because you wanted nothing more than to help her anyway you could.

“All i’m saying is maybe i’m not cut out to be a chef..I mean I did give you all food poisoning right?” She says her shifting to one of accusation and anger.

“How did you-”

“You weren’t gonna tell me were you?” She cuts you off.

“Marigold your young and you make mistakes-”

“Food posioning an entire staff and my own sister is not a mistake any chef worth knowing should make!” She bites back her voice shaky as tears slowly start to cascade down her face.

Your own anger immerges, “You are not running off to some strange rich man, and you are not quitting this restaurant.” Your tone trembly as you fiercely raised your voice.

She says nothing.

“Do I make myself clear?” You bite.

Nothing.

“I said, DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?” You bite again.

She nods.

“Good, now go tell Sanji what I told you.” You say brushing past her to open the door to usher her out, but once again your stunned to see someone already at the door.

“Sanji.” You breathe.

“Uh..I heard yelling so I came up..” He says looking at the two of you.

Between your angered expression and your sisters tear stained face, you could only imagine the sight the two of you were.

“Well..” You breathe trying to regain your composure, “Did you hear the part about the chili flakes?”

He says nothing, but nods looking worriedly between the two of you.

“Well good, get to it then, best to serve that soup while it’s still piping hot.” You say walking past him before any of them could utter a reply.

-

A few days later the energetic and very strange Straw Hat Crew was ready to make its departure as your soup had managed to help their friend Nami enough so that they could reach the drum kingdom for further medical assistance.

“THANK YOU SO MUCH CROCK POT LADY FOR SAVING NAMI!” Luffy yells engulfing you in a giant hug that nearly cracked your bones.

“Would you get off her!?” Sanji yells kicking him off of you.

He gets flown off you and you let out a big exhale happy to be able breathe again.

Sanji laughs lightly, “I apologize again for him.” He says softly.

You shake your head, “Eh, he’s kind of rubbed off on me, plus he’s eaten all the leftovers so we haven’t wasted any food.” You shrug.

“Yeah we definitely don’t have to worry about wasting food with Luffy around.”He agrees.

You laugh but smiles warmly, “Well I wish your friend the best of luck I hope she feels better.”

He returns the smile but you could see a certain unease on his face, “Thank you, really for everything, If there’s anything I can do to repay you in the future, if you need any help-”

“Have you been talking to my sister?” You sigh, “We don’t need any help, but thanks for the offer.” You say shutting him down completely.

“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but it didn’t sound like everything was okay..” He says.

“Financial troubles go hand and hand with restaurants, i’m sure Zeff’s told you that, but thanks to you with this new great review of us in the paper, i’m sure business will pick up soon.”

He looks at you uncertainly but nods anyway, “Well madam, I wish you the best of luck as well someone as beautiful as you shouldn’t have to frown so much.” his tone sincere as he shoots you a playful wink.

“Alright Casanova.” You say rolling your eyes, “I think your captain’s waiting for you.” You say pointing to Luffy looking over at the both of you from the ship.

“SANJI we got to go!” Luffy yells.

“COMING!” Sanji yells back as he turns back to you.

“Well I guess this is farewell.” He says giving you another one of his shiny smiles that reminded you very much of early morning sunrises.

You nod but then remember, “Oh wait, I actually have a parting gift for you.” You say reaching into your rucksacks pocket.

“But you already saved Nami?” He asked confused.

“Yeah, but your going after the all blue right?” You ask.

He nods.

“Well take these with you.” You say handing him a bunch of books, he observes them and quickly realizes what they were, his heart rate picking up as he looks back up at you with a look that almost makes your heart skip a beat as well.

“Are these..?” He says in disbelief.

“My grandmothers healing recipes.” You answered.

He looks beyond bemused as he quickly shakes his head, “ Darling, I cannot possibly accept this, don’t you need them?” He asks.

You shake your head, “I have those in particular memorized by heart, so I figured you can use them on your journey to find the all blue with your friends, but I am going to want those back someday, preferably after you find the all blue and give me some of those rare ingredients.” You cheekily smile.

He’s speechless, “Well how will I find you?”

“Ah, that’s an easy one, here.” You say handing him a blank piece of paper.

“What is it?” He questions looking at it.

“A vivre card, my vivre card in particular so where ever you are in the world, if you wish to seek me out, it’ll point you to where I am.” You explain.

He gently tucks the card in with the recipe books and gently but firmly grasps both of your hands bringing them up to his lips in a gentle kiss that causes you to faintly blush.

“You sure you don’t specialize in desserts with how incredibly sweet you are?” He asks.

You scoff, “Get out of here love cook.”

He smiles mischievously but lets your hands go, “I’ll find it, and bring you back many ingredients, then we’ll cook a great feast together.” He affirms.

You nod feeling a bit mischievous yourself, knowing what you were about to say would get a rise out of the blonde, “Cool, it’s a date.” You say.

He stiffens so much that you swear he turned into a mannequin.

“SANJJIII COME ON!” Luffy yells his arms suddenly stretching from the ship all the way to Sanji, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him onto the already sailing ship.

You laugh as you hear Usopp exclaim, “He’s frozen!!”

“AHH SOMEBODY GET A BLOWTORCH!” Luffy yells.

“How about I Slice the shock out of him!” Zoro deviously says.

“NO!” Both Luffy and Usopp yell.

You shake your head laughing as watch their ship sail further and further not knowing when or if you’d ever see Sanji again, but you held your optimism as you waved them off.

Your suddenly thrown out of your thoughts by a sudden presence behind you, one you hated and have only recently come to fear.

“Did you get the letter?” A deep voice asks behind you.

You frown.

“Yes, and I tossed it in the trash where it belongs, you can’t have my sister.” You say determinedly.

A hearty laugh errupts behind you, “That’s fine, but you need my help don’t you?” He reminds. “I mean how else will you ever be able to keep this restaurant?” He asks.

Your frown only deepens.

“What do you suggest then?” You ask shakily a feeling of dread encapsulating you in a way you hadn’t experienced since your mother died.

“You take her place of course, become my bride.” The mans mischievious dark tone sends chills up your spine.

You shake your head, “Look, I already gave the chef my vivre card like you asked in the letter, why on earth do I have to marry you?!” You spit back.

“Because my dear, I have a good feeling that that Luffy kid is going to lead me directly to the One Piece, and when that time comes, I’m going to need all my bargaining chips, wait don't tell me you actually fell for that pervy cook? He questions sadistically.

“No.. I just don't wanna be a pawn in whatever game your playing.” You hiss.

“No my dear, you of all people should know, your worth so much more than that, you know with all that marijoise blood running through your veins.” He laughs.

You grit your teeth,”Do NOT mention those demons.” You say darkly.

“Okay okay, relax darling, just follow me and I promise you, your sister and restaurant will be in great hands.” He says triumphantly as his rough hand brushes your cheek.

“And why should I trust you?” You say shakily.

You watch as smile widens into one that very much resmebled a cheshire cat.

“Why?” He laughs darkly as a choir of laughs suddenly echo around you as the man’s pirate crew suddenly stands behind him tenfold.

Your heart races not have even sense them approaching.

Your eyes shift back onto him.

He pauses in laughing his face suddenly going completely stoic.

“Because I’m Blackbeard.”

-End?-

Oooh bet you didn't see that coming!! Hey guys so this is the final part of the Served mini story!! I hope you all enjoyed it!! So depending on how well this part does I might turn this into a series!! But I thought this would be a good place to leave it on for now.. ;)

[ginsengkitten]

༺ Beautiful Dangerous ༻

༺☆༻

Chapter Eleven

Written in Plain Sight

A/N:

Tysm for your patience with this one. May is a difficult month for me for personal reasons. I’m still writing and I’m so excited for you guys see where this heads. I hope you guys enjoy <3

Dear Slash,

Im sorry I didn't write you sooner. Things have been a little crazy since I got home. Well, not home actually. My parents have turned me in to this special all girls Christian school that specializes in "troubled young women". Apparently they can legally do that even though I've just turned 18! I never agreed to it, they just left me here. In the middle of nowhere- with these weird nuns. They haven't told me how often mail is sent out so I'm not sure how often I'll write, but I promise I will.

I'm sorry how I left things. I didn't know they were coming to take me home. I tried to say goodbye but they gave me no chance. Please forgive me. This summer was the best time of my whole life. Because I met you.

I know letters are a little prehistoric these days, but I've no access to a phone here. Again, I promise to write often. I'll call you as soon as I'm out.

Love, Foxey.

-

Dear Slash,

I'm not sure if you are receiving my letters. If you are and just don't want to speak to me, I understand that. I know mail can take a while... anyways. I figured writing to you helps me pass the time here. This place is awful. It's been 2 weeks of hell. I was forced to detox from everything. It's been so hard. I hardly sleep at night. But when I do, I am so happy because I dream of you. I also daydream a lot. It helps me get through the day. The days are long and boring. There's not really a curriculum here. Even though they call it a school. The nuns are mean. They took away all my clothing and I have to wear a white dress everyday and every night. It's cold and uncomfortable. Each day consists of the same thing. They wake you up at 6 am every fucking morning. It's barely light out. Then you have to clean your room. If you can only eat breakfast if you pass morning room inspection. I've failed 5 times so far...

Anyways. Sorry. I don't mean to complain to you. I don't have anything exciting to write about. I hope you have having very exciting experiences in LA still. Please write me when you can... I want to know how you are!

Love, Foxey

-

Slash,

Today was horrible. Just horrible. I'm sorry to write you only my miseries, but it feels like that's all I have left lately. Turns out, if you don't comply with every single whim and precision- even making the wrong face, or the tone of your voice, the nuns will be violent with you. They carry rulers, books and at times, even their bare hands- are weapons. I can't exactly remember what I did first to step out of line, all I remember was sister Agatha (she's a total bitch) slapping me so hard across the face, the stinging lasted for hours. I cried a little but only in private. I don't think I want to let them see me cry. I don't want them to know they have that power!

I still wait for your reply. I hope you are well.

Love, Foxey.

-

Hi There,

It's been a while. Sorry for that. I don't have much different to say to you. Or much at all. I think I get your message from your silence. If it all meant nothing to you after all, then so be it. I think maybe I belong here anyways. It's best for everyone. I want to let you know it really hurts me to accept that you are done with me. With us. Just like that. But I respect your decision- even if it's shitty. Maybe that's all rockstars are is shitty. So there. You're shitty and I wish we never met. I hope you're happy.

Best of luck with everything. I love you.

Y/N.

-

And just like that. It was over. The silence from Slash over the past two months was only an added pain to the hell you already endured. For your own sanity, hope was crushing you and you had to give it up. Your parents had called once, but the nuns ensured you weren’t telling them the truth of what it was like there. As quickly as it all unraveled, you sank into your new reality. Pushing out thoughts of escape as the former attempts were futile and had only ended in harsher and harsher punishment .

It was colder now into early November. Other girls had come and gone periodically, none staying long enough for it to be worth harboring any sort of relationship. You spent your days in the day room, a dim, sulky living room type space in the center of the building. Empty tables with broken chess pieces and puzzles with missing pieces scattered. You took throne to an old green chair by the large window.

One person you had managed to form any sort of connection with was the oldest nun in the practice, Sister Graham. She seemed worn down and tired of it all, due to her age, and lack of violence and stern, she’d been demoted down to a secretarial duty. She’d find reasons to come and talk to you when she could. Small but meaningful conversations. The two of you formed a secret bond of hatred for this place. A mutual understanding that this was all that was left for both of you. She’d share bits of her life before she became a nun. She had been sent away at the age of 16 after running away from an arranged marriage to a man 20 years her senior at the time. You felt sad for her, sorry for her, confused as to why she remained here. You told her about your past, how you ended up there. You even opened up to her about Slash and the magical summer you had. She seemed to appreciate the glimmer that became of you when you spoke of it all. Like she understood what it meant to feel young and in love. What it felt like to feel misunderstood and suffocated by the normalcy of the world. She made you feel special amidst it all. And then, one day, she was gone. You waited all week for her to show.

You prodded at nuns all morning as to where she was, “did she die?” “Did she retire?” “Is she sick?” You skipped around. Each question was met with harsh and rude snaps of silence and threatening looks. The confusion and hurt flatlined you again. Back to nothingness. You shifted in bed, staring at the ceiling, images of Slash, summer, everything, bleeding through your mind like a movie. The anger of his silence, the hurt, the betrayal, all of it stung within you so badly. Allowing it to get to you, you angrily chuck your pillow to the other side of the room with a frustrated sob. Feathers bust out of the pillow, completely ruining it. You came to your senses quickly with regret and knelt over the pillow to pick up the discarded feathers. You hadn’t changed your pillow case this week, and now you’ve broken the pillow altogether. Great. It was sure you’d get punished for this in the morning. Your hand brushes against a piece of paper as you sift through the feathers. That’s odd- where did this come from? You pick it up and it appears to be a small folded note. You take a precautious look at your door before unfolding it.

“R. 308

Nov. 21. 8pm to west wing parking lot.”

What the hell? You don’t recall writing this down. This was clearly stuffed in your pillow case. When? Why? What does it mean? Did someone put this here? Your heart beat with confusion, apprehensive to feel any sort of excitement at fear of being disappointed again. It was late, and there was seldom to do with this new information except to sleep on it. So you did.

Surely enough, as you had predicted, the nuns took notice of your destroyed pillow and sentenced you to janitorial duties for the entire day. You scrubbed away at the hallway at the end of the wing. Dragging your bucket of dirty water like a gross companion. You grumbled to yourself as you mopped. Suddenly a sister enters the hallway from out of a room and almost slips on the fresh wet floor. She gives a stabbing glare.

“Well hurry it up and get it finished so you’re not such a hazard girl.” She snarks as she walks away. You want to bark back but you know better. The room she had left was left cracked. You stared at the door with curiosity before noticing the room number plaque before you .

“Room 308”.

Wait a minute. R308? Like the note? You take yet another precautious glance behind you to the empty hall to ensure no one would see you now sneak yourself into the room.

Surely there’s something of importance in here? It appeared to be some sort of administrative office. Piles of papers decorated the entire room. You strolled around carefully eying everything. This is a mail room, this is all mail? This is all patient mail, no? It is. How interesting? Why’s there so much in here? Your eyes scan and roll over a large stack prominently sticking out of a box on the desk. You recognize the stationary and realize it to be some of your own letters to slash. What the hell? You start shuffling through the box in a greater panic and confusion. These were all supposed to be sent out, sent to Slash! Were none of them ever mailed?! Your heart dropped to your stomach and your chest tightened.

You wanted to stay longer, to further examine and investigate this, but the reality was clear. No letters written had been sent to anyone. They lied. You hurriedly skimmed through the pile to see if any had come in from Slash but you only saw the ones you wrote. All of them opened too. They’ve just been reading them and keeping them….

Before you could sulk, you quietly exited the room to ensure no one saw you sneaking in there. Clearly you were not supposed to know this. Rage, Hurt, Confusion, coiled inside you once more. All this time? Out of all the emotions rushing through you at that moment, the scariest one was now hope. Hope again filtered into you. Maybe Slash had never ignored you. Maybe he just didn’t know where to write!

After returning to your room that evening, you re read the obscure note once more.

“Nov 21”

That’s tomorrow. Nov 21st is tomorrow. Someone wants me to go to the west parking lot at 8pm tomorrow. But who? And why?

[webslingingslasher]

16 AND 20 PLEASE !!

based off this prompt list, this was probably my favorite i've done. thank you, thank you for the request!

Peter never thought he would see a day where he was head over heels, in fact he always thought people over exaggerated love, just a little bit. It wasn’t that serious, that painful, that enjoyable, it couldn’t be. It was a simple emotion. 

But then, you. 

And suddenly love was not a simple emotion. 

Even now, the night before your wedding he can’t help but urge you to call you, he knows you’re in a hotel preparing for the long day. Makeup, hair, bridesmaids, pictures. It was going to be torture for you, he knows how much you hate all that attention on yourself. 

He remembers that day, the first day he met you. So clearly and vividly if he closes his eyes he can sink back into time, stop it and live there. Sometimes he wishes he could, just a taste of what it was before it became all complicated. 

You drew his attention because of your hoodie, a bright red hoodie had his eyes latched on you. He believes immediately that the universe is sending him a sign, he has to talk to you. He is supposed to meet you, he’s supposed to be in your life like you belong in his. 

And it worked, and you hung out for so long. 

And he thought he had all the signs right. 

You called him out one night, as a joke. 

He admitted it. 

“Is it obvious? How infatuated I am?” 

You caught your breath, he leaned in close. Lips feathered to yours, brushing with each word. 

“It hurts me, just how much I ache for you.” 

And it worked, it worked for a long time. 

You were together for a long time, then mistakes happen and people change and things end. 

Sometimes if you’re lucky they come back, things come around. Things work out, things change, people give second chances and try harder. 

Sometimes things work out, sometimes they don’t. 

Peter knows it’s late, he knows you have your wedding tomorrow, he knows you’re in a hotel bed, he knows you have to be up early and he knows you’re asleep. 

But he has to try anyway, so he dials the number he knows. And he waits, and waits and it rings for what seems like forever. 

Then a muffled, quiet, just woken up voice, “Hello?” 

“I’m sorry, I know it’s late.” 

“Peter?” 

“Yeah?” 

A pause, he is able to blink three times before you answer.

You give a small laugh, “Babe, you’re next door.” 

“I still miss you, and it’s cold.” Peter pouts, he misses your warmth. 

“Then come see me.” 

“It’s bad luck to see the bride before we get married.” 

“You don’t actually believe that, do you?” 

A pause, then “Maybe.”

“What if your future wife wants a kiss?” 

“Then I may have to blindfold myself to give the lady what she wants.” 

“Oh la la. Send a pic.” 

“Are you ready to marry me forever? Because I had it written in the prenup you can never divorce me.” 

“Peter, we didn’t sign a prenup.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry. It was written in the terms and conditions that came with owning my heart.” 

“Funny, I think mine comes with the same fine print.” 

“I’m sorry if I ever hurt it.” He knows he has. 

“You did. But, you fixed it and put a ring on it. Now, you’re going to be mine forever. Get used to it.” 

“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to.” 

“Wanna do me a favor and come kiss your wife to be, in twelve hours?” 

“God, are you really that infatuated with me?” 

You giggle and lower your voice, “Oh yeah, baby. I totally ache for you.” 

Your husband, in twelve hours, groans on the other side. Sometimes he gets queasy when you mock it because it's pretty cheesy. But then he always remembers it’s what got you in the first place. 

“Yeah, yeah. Go ahead and make fun of yourself, you fell for the line.” 

“No, I fell for the guy.” 

“Good one. Pucker up, I’ll be over in 30 seconds.” 

“Puckered.” 

[minorfamilysupremacy]

for the vp drabble requests: idk if you can even do anything with this since it's only a concept rather than an actual plot idea but i'm personally obsessed w the thought "vegas may sometimes have pete on a literal leash, but the one holding it in their lives and relationship is pete" (something something vegas learning to let someone take care of him and pete gaining agency in his own life)

OP i am so sorry that this is perhaps the most liberal interpretation of the theme possible but i did go hog-wild and write a thousand words of it while off my ass at 2 am so

Vegas understands the human body — the ways in which it works and fails, the ways in which it can be broken apart and stitched together, the paper-thin line between causing pleasure and pain. He understands how easily the same hands that touch Pete with reverence and devotion can be used to maim and destroy.

He looks at Pete, in all of his open, guileless vulnerability, and he thinks: If I didn’t love you so much, I could kill you so easily.

And yet, Pete turns to him, and offers himself up, and puts his life at Vegas’ mercy. He meets Vegas’ eyes and his gaze says, silently, If it’s what you wanted of me, I would gladly die.

—

They do not talk about the angry mass of scar tissue or the nerve damage to Vegas’ arm. He had seen the concern on Pete’s face the first time his body had threatened to give out and he had squeezed Pete’s throat a little harder with his good hand, and that ended the conversation before it had a chance to start.

He understands his own body and wishes he didn’t. He knows its pains and twinges and itches and its untold, unceasing miseries. He knows how to shove down the constant scream that builds in his gut and claws at his insides. He knows that there’s a great void inside him that hurts and hurts and hurts and that can’t be sated or calmed. He lies awake at night, Pete nestled close against him, and imagines smashing the useless meat and bone of his arm into a bloody pulp. It makes him feel good, or as good as he can, to think of tearing himself apart in such a fashion. The void inside him will never be full, but he feeds it anyway, lets it feast on the thought.

Pete sighs and moves closer in his sleep. He is teetering on the edge of a precipice, but when Vegas calls his name, he only turns and smiles.

—

He says to Pete: ‘You’ll leave one day.’ They had all left in a row, with Mama leading the way. Now Papa is gone and Macau will leave them soon enough and then Pete will go, and once that’s done, he’ll go too.

‘Don’t say that.’

Pete always sees the good in him. He is the closest Vegas will ever get to filling that empty space inside himself.

Vegas thinks, If you stay, you will be swallowed alive.

‘It’s alright,’ he says. ‘No one will blame you.’

‘I don’t care if anyone would blame me,’ Pete says. ‘I only care about what I want, and that’s you.’

‘For now.’

His hand is shaking involuntarily at his side. Pete takes it in his own. Vegas can feel the smooth line of the scar on his palm.

‘My heart is here,’ says Pete. ‘I’m not leaving.’

‘You’ll die if you stay.’

‘I’ll die if I leave.’

’And if I order you to?’ says Vegas.

Pete says, ‘I don’t think you could.’

—

His father had beaten him like a dumb animal for so long that it’s impossible to see himself as human any longer. The man who had shot him at the poolside had only done what you do with dumb animals too old and broken to be of any use any longer, and it’s only Vegas’ bad luck that he didn’t finish the job.

He stays alive for Pete, and for Macau, and for the gnawing fear of dishonoring his father’s memory by taking the coward’s way out. But Papa would be disappointed in him for the pitiful thing he’s become anyway. There is no escape from his shame, no matter if he lives or dies.

He is nothing, always has been nothing, always will be nothing. He sees Pete and the way Pete sees him, with fondness and softness, and he feels a vicious stab of guilt for the deceit. The scream that builds and builds inside of him, every hour of every day, is begging for release. The force of it could level mountains.

‘What will it take for you to see sense?’ he says.

‘You have an odd definition of sense,’ says Pete. ‘Come here.’

Vegas does not. He feels as though the yawning emptiness inside him will pull him under, too. He says, venomously, ‘Why would you love me when my own papa couldn’t?’

‘Oh,’ Pete says, more of an exhalation than a word, as though he’s just been punched. He goes to put his arms around Vegas, and Vegas shoves at him with the heel of his good hand.

‘Tell me,’ he demands. He wants to hurt them both and he knows he has. He can see it reflected in Pete’s eyes and it twists the ache in his stomach even tighter.

Pete cradles his cheek in his hand. ‘He should have.’

‘But he didn’t.’

‘I know.’ Pete’s thumb strokes over his skin. ‘I’m sorry.’

Vegas swallows and says, ‘Then what did I do wrong?’

He doesn’t say, Because don’t want to do the wrong thing again. He doesn’t say, Because I can’t lose you.

But Pete knows, because Pete knows him with a clarity Vegas will never know of himself. He says, ‘You didn’t do anything. It wasn’t your fault. It was his.’

He doesn’t say, I’m not him. He doesn’t say, I told you I wouldn’t leave and I meant it.

But Vegas knows.

‘I want to be better,’ he says.

‘You’re good enough as you are. More than enough.’

Vegas is nothing. He is a small sad thing, a worthless, burdensome failure, a drowning man lost at sea.

But Pete is drawing him in anyway, patient as ever, gathering all the jagged, shattered pieces together with gentle hands, pulling him to shore and saying, Fall to your knees. The ground is solid. It will not fail you. It will not give way. You are safe. I am here.

I am here.

[slightlyrebelliouswriter23]

Hi Em, I’m writing to you because I need to tell this to someone cause my anxiety is eating me alive. My dream is to become a writer and I just got an interview appointment with a very famous British university to study creative writing and my levels of anxiety sky rocketed. So, from one writer to another:

Do you ever feel scared about being successful? As a writer I mean, it’s just that if I don’t try, I will fall into depression, but if I do: anxiety.

Do you ever feel that the pressure of being good at something is so choking you actually prefer not to do anything at all?

(I wrote in green cause I don’t know why I can’t see the text when I select white)

Nonnie, are you my guardian angel or something? I was thinking this exact thought, almost word for word, right before I opened tumblr. And here you are. Your timing is impeccable.

Firstly, I have to congratulate you on your interview. Having gone through a similar scenario myself, that is a massive achievement in its own right, no matter the results of the interview.

I'm afraid I don't have much salient advice to give on this subject, as struggling under the weight of anxiety created by expectations and success is something I still struggle with. I can offer my commiseration and solidarity, however. Know that you're not alone in this feeling.

Something that I've found helpful in job/potential client interviews, which is handy to keep myself from the dreaded anxiety spiral, is to view the interview less as a test and more as a feeler to see if the other person/school/company is going to be the right fit for you.

Because ultimately, you're the person who matters here.

Your comfort, your mental health, your success. I don't care if this is the most prestigious university in the world–there are a plethora of Oxford/Cambridge graduates, but there is only one of you. No one can do exactly what you do.

A person/company/school could look great on paper, but your chemistry with a person/place is a better weight to gauge your interest against than notoriety. If you get there and the campus is hard to get around or the people are snotty or the professors are pricks and the course load seems like hell seethed over, that's maybe not a good fit for you anyway (unless you're into that sort of self-inflicted pain, no judgement).

So remember to ask yourself, "Is this the right fit for me? Will I thrive here?"

However it goes, nonnie, know that I am wishing you much much luck! I hope the wind fills your sails and takes you wherever you need to go.

–Em 🖤🗡️

more writing advice

[theplaypenparklogs]

LOG 1 - [Divorce Pop Tarts]

So frankly, I don’t recall much of it, but since you’ve asked, sure. But also, why would you even want to hear this? It’s been too long, for me and for you.

…

You still wanna?

…

Mkay.

…

So you remember when she used to hit us with those plastic hangers? The big fat ones? Compact and slightly heavy? Hurts like a bitch when you would accidentally fling it off into your face? Yeah, don’t remember? Yeah, thought so too, don’t worry, I also don’t, I just made that up.

Since all I remember is the pain, then I’ll be as dramatic as possible and also I hope you stop listening at some point and I can drop this retelling or whatever so we can get to other important stuff.

…

You still wanna?

…

Damn sure. Ok, so when she used to hit us, I wished super duper hard she would be quick yknow? Like, I don’t know about you, since you don’t remember much, but I knew, she would never completely stop, just sometimes it would last longer or sometimes, it was quick. So yeah, I usually hoped she would go at it quicker and then ignore us cuz it always hurt more when she dragged the hanger sessions on and off.

Yeah, anyways, so one day, I remember, she hit my head, it dragged out my hair and by some whatever bad luck, also dragged my body to hit the corner of the table. The mahogany table yknow? The super solid, clunky one, we hid under the table and all? You don’t remember?

…

You still wanna?

…

Yeah, so I was saying, old table, kinda stank. Like old people yeah? It was from our grandparents, grandparents, grandparents and so on it went, super ancient. Never asked how old it really was. Decrepit looking. Yeah. That table. Hit my head there, started bleeding, got all woozy and shit. Table was dark wood so It didn’t show much but still, it was the first time the pain actually registered as serious. It was also the last time.

It hurt.

Like a lot, I’m thankful you never got hurt as seriously as I did cuz I’m pretty sure I lost half of my braincells that day. Like the permanent vacation kinda lost. Yeah, so she saw the bleeding, and I like to think she thought she fucked up and all because she ran outta the room and called a number, which now that I think of it. Was probably our aunt, because no self-respecting people like her would actually call the emergency to treat the kid they were hitting.

She started whispering and i just sat there, near the table, kinda cloudy and all. Couldn’t think straight at all, at that time. But there was one clear thing I really wanted.

I didn’t wanna see her anymore and I didn’t wanna be hit by her anymore.

It hurt. It still hurts sometimes yknow?

So yeah, oh, and I also wanted pop tarts.

I really wanted it yeah.

And that’s all I can remember about that day. After, I remember, our aunt came to treat me, and she brought a box of pop tarts, so that was nice, cuz yknow, I really wanted some! I’m still surprised  though, she usually always brought that same flavour of pop tarts, I think it was called .

uhh, the blueberyy one, like, tasted kinda mediocre-ish? You don’t remember?

…

You still wanna?

…

Uhh, yeah, so she brough this time a different flavour, it was like, plain on top, but with white frosting in the center with some dark specks in it. I’m not too sure, maybe chocolate? Dunno. But yeah, that day, she brought a new flavour of pop tarts, bandaged my head and then left.

She was really nice. She’s still really nice, I should bring you to her one of these days, I don’t think we’ve met up with her often these past few years.

My bad, I keep going off onto other things, sorry.

So right, im sorry, it’s just the taste of those pop tarts, it was really good, I dont even know what it actually tasted like, but It was just so good. Delicious.

Uhrgh, sorry, sorry. Ok, yeah, so I ate those, and then during our cousins sleepover, we all finished the box. I was pretty sad about it not gonna lie. But it was enough for a few days since they couldn’t cook for us. I think they were really busy that time of the year, so no time for breakfast or lunch or anything.

So yeah, anyways, I wished for her to stop it and miraculously, after that day, she did! They got a divorce like you know. It went as well as it could and here we are, both housing with him.

You don’t remember?

…

You still wannaaa??

…

Then I don’t have much to say anymore. All I can remember is pop tarts, a really bad headache and lucky us divorce!

Yeah that’s it.

Ok, now, go to sleep. I know you won’t be studying tonight since I saw you buying that new game, the dating sim one, yeah, I know what you’re doing, ok, now, bye bye.

[vanilladaises-rp]

Hyunjin drabble??

i know this is super random but i found this in my notes and i have another and i just figured i post them. The reader is kinda me since i do like art and hyunjin is hyunjin and I’m a terrible artist. anyways enjoy!

tw/none just really fluff

⊹ ੈ♡ — — — — — — — — — — — — — — ₊˚ ‧₊ ๑ ˎˊ˗

It was hard trying to balance both school and work as a struggling artist, it gave you little to no time to work on your new piece. Although working at a cafe for androids made you feel warm and happy to know they had a safe space to hangout despite it being ran by humans, you dreamed so deeply of becoming a well known artist, having your own shop and maybe an exhibit. Unfortunately, there was just one problem. You were completely terrible at art.

It’s true school has helped you get a bit better but it’s taking longer than you hoped, any chance you got you practiced hard on your lines and shaping to prep your picture for paint. You’re drawing was pretty good, but painting is where you stumbled, your blending always looked poorly done and the paint was either spread incorrectly or very blotchy, and you.always.made.accidents. It angered you so much how clumsy you were and lately it’s gotten worse all because of one man.

Hwang Hyunjin. You’d been dating him for the past four months, and he may be the sweetest boyfriend you’ve had, but also the most talented one as well. Hyunjin was perfect at everything you wish you were, painting, drawing, portraits, landscapes you name it. Art was actually how you both met:

On a rainy Friday morning, you headed to the supplies store to purchase a new easel and some brushes. It was quite empty surprisingly, just a few people here and there, you already gathered your needed supplies but decided to skim the store a bit since it wasn’t very crowded. Looking through the shelves you noticed there was restock on the color you’d been needing for the past month, but just your luck it unfortunately was on the highest shelve.

With no employees nearby and you being too shy to ask for help, you’re only option was to step on the bottom shelve and reach for the top one, which seemed like a well thought out plan before, but you completely slipped and fell on the ground harshly. You groaned in pain, but before you could get up an employee ran towards you, kneeling down to check for injuries, “Are you alright? He asked meeting your eyes, which made your breath hitch.

You sat there completely frozen with wide eyes, shocked at how perfect he was, his eyes, nose and lips. Everything about him was breathtaking and it immediately made you flustered. Hyunjin noticed, and thought he probably startled you, “oh um I’m sorry” he slightly bowed, backing up to give you some space, “if you would like assistance from another employee, I get i-“ “No!” you shouted a lot louder than you wanted, “I mean yes I’m okay, thank you for checking” you smiled softly, mentally slapping yourself for making the situation awkward.

“I would love your help, thank you” you said getting up and gesturing to the color you needed, “Ah good choice, you’re lucky because this one is always sold out” “sold out” you both said at the same time, making him smile with you and hand you the bottle, making your hands come in contact, “My name is Hyunjin, I’m kinda new to the area but it’s nice to meet kind humans like you” he said with a soft tone, making you frown as you thought about what horrible things humans have said or done to him.

Shaking yourself away from your thoughts, you offered him another sweet smile and extended your hand, “ It’s nice to meet you as well, Hyunjin. My name is Y/N, thank you for helping me” he was hesitant but nonetheless shook your hand, both of you getting lost in each’s eyes for a moment. Hyunjin had asked If you could show him around after his shift, and you instantly agreed. After that day you two became inseparable.

Hyunjin knew you were shy about your art and never pushed or pressured you to show him, but he had no idea how hard you were struggling. You never told him because it was embarrassing and you were afraid he might laugh or judge you. Your friends at the cafe always ensured you how much progress you were making and encouraged you to keep trying, but with each assignment it got harder and harder.

Hyunjin had arranged a sweet date for your 6 month anniversary, you thought it was a bit cheesy but he insisted it was an important milestone in a relationship, so you eventually agreed after all his convincing. You wanted to surprise him by finally showcasing your work to him, deciding to do a watercolor picture of the two of you. There was a pic your friend snapped of you two kissing and it was your favorite, the lighting, angel and setting was perfect, you just couldn’t wait to show him.

It was a stressful two months but It had been your best piece yet. Though there was some flaws, it looked exactly how you pictured it. You had just finished getting ready and decided to add a little glitter to the details, making the picture pop more but you accidentally spilled the whole bottle on it, which made you instantly break into tears. Hyunjin was supposed to be over in a bit so there was no way of salvaging it and you couldn’t start over, so you just sat there in your art room crying until he came knocking on your door.

“Doll? Are you there?” he asked after a few knocks, arms full off snacks, gifts and games for tonight. Hyunjin didn’t want to barge in, but you weren’t responding so he took the spare key you gave him and unlocked the door. Hyunjin walked in and placed all the stuff on the coffee table after closing the door, “Angel?” he called again, his body becoming more tense as he heard little whines, immediately following the sounds.

The cries lead to your art room which he wasn’t allowed in, “Y/N? Are you in here?” he knocked, making sure to get permission from you first before entering “Um y-yes just gimme a sec jinnie, I-I’ll be out in a bit” you stuttered trying to muffle your sobs, “Doll, you’re crying. What’s wrong?” he asked, more worried now that you won’t let him in, “I-I ruined everything . . .” your voice cracked, letting more tears fall, “What? Honey, no you didn’t, you could never ruin anything” he paused, gripping the handle to the door “I’m gonna come in okay?” he announced with a slightly shaky voice.

You were too sadden to object, letting him enter as he saw everything. All your projects you spoke about spread around the room which made him smile. Hyunjin thought they were beautiful and was shocked you were so shy about them, “p-please stop starring like that, I-I know they’re ugly and so is this one” you said with hurt and anger, starting to crumble up your anniversary photo. Hyunjin was shocked by you sudden change of mood, but he couldn’t get a word out before you interrupted.

“I-I know I’m not as talented as you Hwang Hyujin, b-but that doesn’t mean you can just stare and laugh at my h-hard work!” you yelled making him flinch a bit. Your sobs kept coming, making you unable to speak any further so you threw the paper and fell to the ground. By your words, Hyunjin could tell you were insecure about your work and that you may have taking his reaction as if he was more amused than impressed, “Baby, that’s not what I’m doing at all. If i’m being honest, I think your work is beautiful, it’s rare and unique” he assured you, taking a seat next to you, scooping you up in his arms,

“I was staring because I was impressed, and completely stunned that you kept them hidden” he explained himself which made you look up at him with puffy eyes, “R-Really?” you asked barely above a whisper, making him smile and nodded, “Yes really, and I don’t think I’m more talented than you, I have flaws as well, art is subjective babe. What seems ugly to you, may be appealing to others” he explained rubbing your arm soothingly. Hyun smiled and lifted your chin for a kiss, “I hope you can be more open about your work with me, and maybe we can even teach each other things and we can have cute art dates” he chuckled “And I really believe you’re an amazing artist y/n, just don’t forget about me once you blow up” he winked, placing kisses all over your face. “Now, show me this picture you “supposedly” ruined” he asked.

Although you still weren’t happy with your work, with the help of your supportive friends and lovinf boyfriend, you’d soon with the help of your friends and loving boyfriend, you know you’d soon learn to love your style and become more comfortable with it.

[closedcoffins]

" so, mr. genoard, " Luck dug the heel of his black, neatly polished shoe into Dallas' stomach, a cigarette dangling from his lips, " it seems you've decided to grace us with your presence once again. or, no . . . that's not correct. " He leaned back a bit & expelled a wisp of smoke, cold eyes raking over Dallas' bruised & blooded form, as if analyzing. Wondering if and when those injuries would start to disappear, heal away. Waiting, like a cobra. " you were trying to avoid us, weren't you? that's rather rude, wouldn't you say? not dropping in to say hello? " He lifted his foot and stomped viciously into the abdomen, not releasing the pressure as he leaned slightly forward, his sharp smile unwavering. " if you aren't here to see your old friends, then what are you here for, mr. genoard? " | welp. you wanted Dallas to get kicked. or stomped. or beat up, i guess.

It hurts it hurts it hurts ithurtsithurtsithurtsithurts---

Even as everything starts to regenerate, it hurts. Damn him, damn Luck Gandor; if there really is a hell, Dallas hopes some other immortal comes around to bring him to that goddamn place so then he could at least be on equal ground with the cocky bastard. He wishes the pain in his gut would at least dull. At least then it wouldn’t be any worse than what he’s already been through.

“Why the hell would I wanna say hey to---GHHK!”

He’s abruptly cut off by a sharp, familiar pain, the sensation causing him to suddenly release the air he’d needed to talk. The breath he draws in is labored and shaky, and Dallas hates himself for feeling just a little afraid when he looks up at Luck, who’s just as composed as always.

Fuck you! At least show me some anger, you dirty rotten bastard! I’ll kill you once I can get outta here, I’ll kill you, I’ll kill you so goddamn dead I won’t even need to be like you to finish the job. And then I’ll kill your brothers, too, and everyone else here, I’ll kill them, I’ll kill every last one of you, I swear it, I’ll really kill you all dead.

But he doesn’t even struggle. Having a partially immortal body, there’s nothing in particular that’s actually stopping Dallas from trying, and the fact of the matter is that he’s stronger than Luck no matter how things are framed. He probably could get outta this if he wanted, but then what? That big goddamn bruiser would only shove him right back in here. The humiliating fact is that Dallas has lost his will to fight back, because---

That’s right. Because this guy knows Eve. He knows where Eve lives. And if I don’t take it, there’s every chance he just offs me anyway, and then who’s gonna be around to...

To...

... Fuck it all, especially Luck Gandor.

“The hell’s it matter to you?” he spits, venom interlaced in his every syllable. “You think you’re so much better than me, huh? That I’m just some two-bit piece of trash that has to cough up his every goddamn intention just ‘cause you beat me up a little? Fuck! You! It’s got nothin’ to do with your shitty irrelevant group!”

dallas deserves this. / unprompted.

[lexingtonprincess]

I should’ve 100% game myself more time to write this, but did I? Nope sure didn’t.

Also plot twist, I have an exam tomorrow that I am far from ready for. But heyyyy wish me luck my dudes.

So I went to get my piercings today right, septum done at a 8g and my tongue but noooo f*ck my luck. Not only could she not do my septum at an 8g because I didn’t have the anatomy but ALSO I couldn’t do my tongue for the same reason!! So I got my septum done at a 10g then got my snake bites. Which I low key love them so much.

Now to the actual important stuff, I’m going to start my studying journey soon of where I want to study and start branching out cause now I feel like a bada** thanks to my piercings (and in pain but is cool). Not sure where I wanna go first, might chill at Gatton after work and have a late night study session for my NEXT exam on Wednesday (I think that’s when it is)

Now what to talk about causeee I got a word count to reach and I doubt I’m close, or maybe I go over every time. Who knows, rather be safe than sorry ya know.

I go to plan for my next semester classes Tuesday!! Im excited, especially since I added my minor on! Might finally get to start taking more Spanish classes, cause Spanish slays.

Anyway, I have an exam to prep for which is plot twist tomorrow when I thought it wasn’t until Wednesday (might cry). And I have my discussion post to still do (but its fineeee) I’ll get it together tonight, who needs sleep anyway.

Don’t forget I love y’all!! I’m so very very proud of you for just being here another day/night!!!💜🫶🏻

[anyu-blue]

~

Honestly... I know what I’m doing most of the time. It makes me sad, but I don’t really see a way out. I’m tired of my feet swelling to the point of damage after one single day at work... I’m tired of being looked down on for only being able to handle 3 days of work a week (if that).. and for my tolerance ever ebbing away. I’m so tired... not just the weird physical tired I’ve been fighting for absolutely too long that I have neither the patience nor the energy to fight our healthcare system to give any single fuck about... but emotionally.. spiritually, if you will. But what can I do? I don’t have a choice in this.  This is the best paying job I’ve had in a long while.. with work that could almost be called enjoyable. But it hurts... it hurts so much. Yes, this is one of those ‘down’ times in the cycle of chronic pain where I just don’t know how much more I’m willing to take because it just.. hurts. I want to create. I can see my own potential. My desire and drive has returned, if different. But I can’t... because so much of the energy I have left is spent just trying so hard to get through the days at work. I just want to stop. To just sit down and cry. But I can’t do that either. I don’t have the energy or permission from literally anyone else in my life but me to do it. Because sitting down and crying about it is giving up. It is deciding I can’t do it anymore... and I can’t afford that. I can barely afford life now... and if this work disappears... it’s all over. I can’t get an interview literally anywhere else because I can’t handle more than 3 days... or the severe pittance in pay they offer. It’s not enough. I wish... so much.  I know it’s pointless... you can’t expect anything to come from wishing. You have to have the desire and then the power to work for it. To make those wishes something real and tangible.... You’re the only one who can do that for yourself. Sadly.. I wish I could go. And I also don’t wish that at the same time. Because I could make that a reality... but I know everyone regrets trying if they survive.. and perhaps if they go too. Everyone hates it. And the unknown waiting... well that’s just terrifying. What I’m doing is drowning my pain in fantasy and daydreams... in surrounding myself with objects I don’t really care about, but make excuses to care about. It’s all junk... I don’t care... I love that they’re fascinating to some part of my mind.. and still I know I don’t actually care to own them. I hate the clutter. So much. I’m trying to make the pain worth it by trying to find ways to travel... by giving myself experiences too... because those are supposed to make you happy... as few and far between experiences are and can be because, again... I’m barely making enough as it is... I’m just really good at money-ing... so I have extra to spare because I am so careful. It’s not enough that I could justify just suffering through with nothing spent and putting it all away over the years and years to eventually retire... it will never be enough for that. Life just keeps getting more expensive... and this lucky streak may not last forever. Though I am fighting to have it last as long as it can... I’m so terrified of this life we’re forced to live... and worse, I’m so scared because I can’t find a way out. I don’t want to live like this. It’s awful... no one should have to live in this state of constant fear and pain... but I’m told it’s what I deserve. That, yes, actually some people should because obviously they’re not trying hard enough.. or they’re too weak compared to the rest. It’s just your luck and someone has to suffer... may as well be ‘you.’ I don’t see a way out... and no one else (no one that cares anyway) has the answers either. I don’t see a way out.

[bell-arina271]

Day 1 [Restart] 6/5/2023 of building Elsa's Ice Palace

Ok, so yesterday (Sunday) there wasn’t much to report, since Sundays are usually my rest days. I wound up sleeping through church (whoops) but it ended up working in my favor since it gave me time to write out my blog and get everything ready.

Today will begin Day 1 of my journey to build Elsa’s Ice Palace, and we’re already off to a better start than I anticipated. I don’t have enough for any major projects just yet, but I do have a good practice run in the making.

The property I’m looking at is a flipped house and was a bit of a fixer upper (I believe I said that in my previous post) so it’s running for relatively cheap since there’s still some work to do. It’s fully done on the inside, and the location is great. I really do think once it’s fixed up it will make a great airbnb.

Here’s the kicker that I hadn’t been thinking of when I first saw the property: the attic space in this house has a similar ceiling shape as the top floor of Elsa’s Ice Palace. I can easily transform that into a mini version of the space!!! That will give me good practice of designing, finding materials, and all the things I would need to do for the full scale version!

It would be a project I would probably have to do next year however, since I still need to save up enough to even tackle it. I can wall off the attic for now and just try to make some money on the house itself. I can’t show the pictures yet since it’s not my house, but once you see it you’ll agree it makes a cute getaway cottage! I’m actually really excited!

Today I'll be making the offer for the house, then it will be a long road to see if they accept, and ultimate close. It can take a month and a half before closing the deal on the house, so wish me luck on this emotional rollercoaster, lol.

On a funny coincidence, my discord chat was saying how we should keep each other accountable for skincare routines. We all seem to have the stuff, but none of the discipline XD. It started as a joke but now this may become a part of my daily life too. Which is just as well- how can I be a famous youtuber if I don’t have gorgeous skin?

(I told you I’m a performer, right? I’d like to actually sing someday.)

I decided to make the font a different color because I thought it would be pretty, and wanted to make it stand out. Do you like it?

Well anyway I need to go do my coach classes then try to wind down for bed. I’ll see you all later. Thank you for reading!

Day 1 [Cont] Of building Elsa’s Ice Palace

Ok so slight snafu, I can’t ask for the full seller concessions like I had hoped. Basically it’s when the buyer asks for the seller to pay for all of, or in this case most of, the closing costs of the house sale. There’s the down payment itself, which is to pay part of the house price, and then the closing costs, which is how much money it takes to actually do the house sale transaction, so normally you pay for both. Because of the amount of money I’m approved for, I can only ask for so much in concessions when I make my offer, so I’ll still need to pay for $5,000 for the down payment and closing costs combined.

I know, it’s a big chunk of cash. That’s why you need to spend YEARS saving up before buying a house. Or in my case, live with family for a while and just put away half your paycheck each time until you save up enough. Trust me, it’s painful for me to watch too, but I know it will be worth it.

So far we don’t think there will be a problem. We put in an offer to the house, which is lower than the asking price, then they’ll counter with a slightly higher price until we settle on something. Basically, you haggle for the house. I think we’re in a really good position buyers wise in the market right now.

It’s a shame I can’t use that extra thousand toward furniture, but oh well, lol. If it can seal my possession of the house, it’ll be worth it. Once I have it I’ll have all the time in the world to buy what I need.

I’m starting to have doubts about being a life coach. I don’t mean to talk badly about myself, but with everything that’s happened the last few years I’m not 100% sure about my own mental stability. I have major triggers and I do have a tendency to people please. I’m not sure that’s actually best for a life coach, especially since sometimes you need to speak frankly to people to get your point across.

I’m going to talk frankly to my instructors and classmates about it and see what they think. If I should back out of it I should do so now before it’s too late lol.

Ok, NOW it’s time for bed. G’night, folks!

[savannaswrites]

on tlh — i agree completely! i did read gotsm and loved that version of james and matthew way more i felt like neither of them really had an in-depth personality in tlh? but just in general i think the versions of the tlh characters in all the short stories and extra content are much more compelling. with characters like anna and ariadne too, but especially james. there was those hints of tragedy that were never quite fulfilled, but also so much fascinating mysteries that tlh doesn’t delve too deep into. don’t know if you’ve read the shadowhunter academy, but his and matthew’s characterization in nothing but shadows was my favourite, whereas in tlh i struggled to understand who james even was at all (more sensitive herondale? will and jem combined? is what i think he was meant to come across as but it didn’t quite work for me) and the potential of james and matthew as parabatai set up in that story was sort of lost.

i also can’t stand their love triangle with cordelia it was tired lol, although to be fair that’s because i kept holding out hope that she’d make matthew unrequitedly in love with james or with both james and cordelia to parallel tda haha. not to start ranting about tlh but i do agree that i wish james and lucie (and matthew since it’s set up in the first two that he likes staying in the downworld) could have interacted more with downworlders since they are technically part warlock. anyways!! yes the lore and downworlder/shadowhunters politics and relationships with the main five (six counting ghost livvy, or seven counting ash) that you set up in fearful symmetry were definitely what got me so excited. i also really loved thule livvy coming back and saying she’d only talk to ty, and then the next chapter we finally got to see ty, and his narration was perfect. omg i’m sorry i wrote so much again. thank u for replying <3 — fs anon

ah, i'm so sorry it's taken me a gazillion years to respond to your message! i read it and was like, i have GOT to finish chot before i write back so i can know what's going on, and -

it did take me forever, i'll admit. that book was a SLOG. also, i am so sorry!! i called that book i was thinking of gotsm, but you are ABSOLUTELY right, it was tftsa that i was thinking of!! i read those two back to back and tbh really thoroughly enjoyed the short story format, although i will admit to being like. frankly quite confused. because if i remember correctly i hadn't gotten around to reading books 4, 5, and 6 of tmi yet, but i had read the emma and julian books, so i was like wtf...simon is alive again?? a;sdkfj

but back to the point: you are 1000% correct, that wonky love triangle in tlh was UNSATISFYING. actually, to be totally, brutally honest, i sort of felt that whole trilogy was wildly unsatisfying. you know?? like, we spend SO much time on this love triangle that just fizzles out without really forcing any of the characters into that crucible that i loved in tmi or tid, so it's like...they don't even emerge changed from this experience?

i would have lOVED it if matthew had been in unrequited love with james. after tftsa, i was like [eyeball emoji] in the hopes that that could be the dynamic, but of course, no such luck...do you think maybe cc just thought that would be too similar to the jace & alec dynamic from all the way back in tmi? because like yes, alec did think he was in jace, but i sort of feel like those books took pains to clarify that he was maybe projecting on him a bit, and that he wasn't truly in love with him the way tessa and jem and will were in love with each other. so this would still have been different, u know? and it would have contrasted so INTERESTINGLY to emma and julian being at the center of that series, i think!

but also, what TERRIBLE villains tlh had. not only were they not intimidating or even very interesting, but the power scaling in the books to me just completely undermines the stakes in twp books before they've even started. this fallen angel is ancient and powerful, but will banter with teenagers and leave them alone to scheme in his stolen realm for no particular reason? and that whole thing with cordelia and cortana...like...i loved emma getting that weapon, but we SEE her train CONSTANTLY. wanting to fight is part of who she is! with these books, it's like their being meant to hunt demons was just so much set dressing for a story that's not quite as interesting as it thinks it was. maybe that's too mean to say??

i just feel like, okay. you have TEN heroes, every single one of whom gets scenes from their own point of view, and the idea is that that won't cause pacing problems?? hELLO. when the narration has to stop and start over and over and over again to tell us exactly how a character is feeling when we could just as well have surmised that from a more focalized narrator just made these books sooo much work.

also i'm so sorry you were like 'not to start ranting about tlh' and that's IMMEDIATELY what i did, but please do let me know what you think because i've been mulling this over since i finished the book and i just??? you know??

[theshadowrealmitself]

U are SO Big Brained. Naruto becoming a luck deity through his tremendous love of humans and life is just * chef's kiss *

The subversion of losing hope and becoming jaded and instead becoming powerful and just even more hopefull and filled with love is just so hhhhhhhh it makes my heart ache goood

AND the contrast of him and Kaguya!!! The way that even through all the bad humans do they are still just good and full of love and how that would ultimatly triumph over hate,,,,,,,,, ITS SO GOOOODDD

YES thank you!!!!! And with the contrast I especially love it because by all rights Naruto should hate humans too because they hate him, but he’s just so full of love, he keeps getting pit against antagonists like Pain and Kaguya but he’s just!! Winning with love and friendship!!! I fucking love this little dude!! I love the power of friendship and the power of love, and just seeing innate goodness in the people around you, it makes me feral I will never get enough of it

(I know he’s also winning with the power of kicking their ass but he’s also using Kurama’s power sometimes, who he won over with the power of friendship, I love this little dude so much)

(and with any au where he’s becoming something inhuman that might just make the villager’s hatred of him worse and he’s just still full of love?? It’s the best

I’m not saying he needs to forgive them, he can hate the villagers all he wants they deserve it, why did he have to win them over? They should’ve just come to terms with the fact that he’s a child and an innocent person who had no role in the nine tails’ attack

But anyways, them hating him and him still having so much love to give those who love him back?? Him just going around giving luck and love to his loved ones and living a nice life where his precious people are safe and happy and all those bitter a-holes from the village miss out on luck?? That is my nectar I love it so much)

[sluttywonwoo]

take it off || k.mg x reader

Pairing: mob!mingyu x fem reader

Summary: as much as you hate to admit it, jealousy looks good on your fiancé 

Warnings: swearing, light smut (18+)

Word Count: 1.8k

a/n: reworked this old blurb originally posted on my tom holland fic account ( @wazzupmrstark )

Masterlist

“Mingyu, slow down,” you said with a sigh, trying not to roll your eyes.

“What was he thinking?” Mingyu spat, not acknowledging what you had just said. He gripped the steering wheel even harder.

You watched as his knuckles began to turn white and rubbed his arm soothingly. “Baby, take a deep breath. Relax.”

He just shrugged you off and cursed at the car in front of him.

“Don’t fucking tell me to relax.”

“It’s not a big deal, Gyu.”

He actually turned his head towards you and looked at you this time. “You’re joking.”

You shrugged sheepishly. “I’ve had worse.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

You winced, knowing you’d probably made it worse and that Mingyu was likely now picturing the grimy hands of ill-intentioned strangers all over your body.

“I should have him killed,” he snarled.

To most, that threat would sound completely ridiculous or utterly insane, but your fiancé was the head of the Seoul mob-the South West branch anyway- and he was no stranger to violence. Having someone killed would be as easy as snapping his fingers.

You scoffed to call his bluff.

“You think I won’t?” he challenged and you groaned.

“You promised you were done with that.”

It’s true, one of the conditions of your engagement had been that Mingyu agree to put the more sinister side of his business to rest, and although you trusted him, in all honesty, you weren’t sure how well he was upholding his end of the deal.

“I’d make an exception.”

“Well don’t. I don’t want some poor guy’s blood on my hands.”

At that, the car screeched to a stop right in the middle of the freeway. The cars behind you honked and flashed their lights at Mingyu as they maneuvered to avoid a collision.

You huffed in frustration, wanting to bang your head against the dashboard. This was exactly why you didn’t like for Mingyu to drive himself: he pulled dangerous shit all the time like this. Literally, all of his other men had drivers who took them places and you desperately wished Mingyu would hire someone, but he insisted that it was safest if he was the one driving (yet here you were in the middle of the highway).

“You could’ve fucking killed us!” you shouted, more annoyed than anything.

Mingyu took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. But y/n, he’s not just some poor guy.”

“He was trying to get a rise out of you, Gyu. He fucking hates you, of course, he’d go after me, and he was drunk.”

Mingyu narrowed his eyes at you, foot still pressed firmly on the brake. “That’s not a fucking excuse, you of all people should know that. Why are you trying to defend him?”

“I’m not trying to defend him, I’m just saying he doesn’t deserve to die. Can we please just get home?”

Mingyu relented and put the car back into motion making you breathe a sigh of relief.

Even though he didn’t say anything else you could tell his mind was still going a thousand miles a minute. You watched him chew at his lip in silence and wondered what was going on in that beautiful head of his. Nothing good, you could be sure of that.

Mingyu’s mind was darker than most. Occupational hazard. He carried so much pain that you hadn’t known about when you first met him. He’d let you in slowly, keeping you at arm’s length for months, until he almost lost you. And then he knew he couldn’t keep things from you anymore. It was still a challenge to understand his thought process sometimes, but you liked it that way. How could a ruthless, power-hungry mobster also be the most loving, family-oriented person you’d ever met in your life? How could someone who dropped a grand on a dinner like it was nothing secretly rather spend one more night picnicking with crappy Chinese food on the bedroom floor in your old apartment? You couldn’t think of an answer, and you didn’t want to.

The guy at the bar tonight had been some rival of Mingyu’s. You hadn’t seen him before, but you could tell because when Mingyu got up to get the two of you more drinks he swooped in and laid it on heavy. He looped one arm around your waist and placed his other hand on your knee and began attempting to seduce you. Sure, you were uncomfortable but more than anything you were angry. And tired. Tired of being used as bait, something to get to Mingyu.

You didn’t want to make a scene so you listened to the asshole talk about how much better he’d treat you than Mingyu until your fiancé eventually returned with your drinks in hand, face beet red, eyes dark with anger.

The man, you never caught his name, left the bar with a broken nose. Mingyu left with bruised knuckles. You’d thought it would end at that, but of course, once Mingyu got started it was hard for him to stop. It was a gift in the bedroom, but a curse in the rest of your life.

Then, so softly you almost didn’t hear it, Mingyu broke the silence in the car and said “I know what he said to you,” and it all clicked.

Normally, a hand on your shoulder, thigh, ass was enough to set Mingyu off, but combine that with the filthy words he’d undoubtedly overheard spilling from the man’s lips… no wonder all he could see was red.

“Mingyu, I-“

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t want to start something.”

“Start something? Is that true? Or do you think he’s right?”

“No, of course not.”

“Do you think he can satisfy you better than I can?”

“Mingyu!”

“Well do you?”

You shook your head and rubbed your thighs together, fighting a shiver. As irritating as Mingyu’s jealousy could be, the effect it had on you was even more infuriating. The man could already turn you on without doing anything and whenever he started acting a little jealous it was game over for you. It was pathetic, really.

“Why the fuck did he even think it was okay to look at you, let alone touch you?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged finally settling in to play the game. “These big dudes with huge muscles just think they can have whoever they want.”

Mingyu whipped his head back towards you. “What did you say?”

You ignored him. “I mean he definitely wouldn’t be as good as you, but he could do some damage.” Mingyu was full-on glaring at you now, and you wanted to tell him to keep his eyes on the road, but you couldn’t give up so fast. “I mean, just one of his hands could probably wrap around my whole neck. Like they were giant, and you know what they say about guys with big hands-“

“Do you think this is funny?”

Any sane person wouldn’t even think about taunting Mingyu like this, not with his reputation, but you couldn’t be sane to be with someone like Mingyu anyway, and besides, you knew he was a big softie at heart.

“A little,” you admitted. “You look really hot right now.”

He really did. His hair was tousled with silver highlights from the moonlight streaming in through the windshield, his tan skin was flushed with adrenaline, and his white button-up was unbuttoned just a few times to show off his collarbone. You bit your lip. You were so fucking weak.

“That’s not going to work.”

“No?” You quirked an eyebrow and leaned over the console to see that he was already more than half hard in his dress pants. “Because it looks like it’s working.” You reached over and began to palm him through his trousers, smirking when he cursed and rolled his neck at the contact.

“Y/n, if I have to pull over, you’re not going to be able to walk for the next week.”

Oh no, that’d be horrible you thought to yourself and rolled your eyes. He had to know that’s what you secretly wanted, right? Right? Why were men so stupid?

Either way, you took your hand back and moved it up under the hem of your dress to where you were feeling a little desperate for some friction. You sighed deeply when you rubbed yourself over your panties, not even surprised at how wet you were.

“Fuck,” you hissed out and hiked your legs up onto the seat so you could give Mingyu a better view.

“Stop that.”

He said it so forcefully that you froze, fingers hovering over your panties, about to pull them to the side. Then you smiled.

“No.” You went ahead and did it anyway, slipping two fingers inside of yourself easily.

You weren’t one to defy Mingyu often, especially when it came to what he asked of you in the bedroom, but you knew how crazy it drove him and just couldn’t resist.

Mingyu groaned, trying and failing to maintain an angry expression. His eyes betrayed an absolutely sinful lust that made you want to melt and you wished more than anything he’d just pull the fucking car over.

“Fuck, Gyu,” you gasped, “I wish these were your fingers, you’re so good with your fingers.”

“Yeah? You sure you wish they’re my fingers? Not someone else’s?”

You shook your head vigorously. “Never. You’re the only one who knows how to make me cum that hard.”

“Is that what you want? To cum hard?”

“God, yes,” you moaned, pumping your fingers in and out of you faster.

“Take off your dress.”

“What?” you weren’t sure if you’d heard him right, you were still driving down the highway after all.

“You heard me. Take. It. Off.”

Not wanting to push your luck any further you didn’t hesitate to listen this time and pulled the loose fabric up and over your head.

“Good girl,” he praised and you whined. You were still wearing your bra and underwear and as much as you’d love to flash oncoming traffic, you hoped Mingyu wouldn’t ask you to take them off.

“You can touch yourself,” he said and you complied, knowing it was more of an instruction than an allowance.

It felt good, really good, but you still wished it was him instead of you.

“Fuck, darling you look so beautiful like that, God, I can’t believe I get to marry you.”

“If, you stop, killing people,” you managed to get out through gritted teeth and Mingyu laughed.

“I’m not going to kill him, baby. I made a promise. You’re too important to risk losing, even if he is a fucking prick.”

You whimpered, the mixture of complete head-over-heels love you felt for Mingyu and pleasure making you crumble.

“Don’t worry, baby,” he said, reaching over and taking you by the wrist, stalling your movements just as you were about to fall over the edge. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard you’ll forget you ever met that asshole.”

lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!!

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