#deliciously agonising for the lot of them <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[finalgirlsamwinchester]

yessss yess the real question would be who starts yelling first. my bets are on dean. i need 12.14 type anger but worse

I’m pretty sure @finalgirlsamwinchester said this first but supernatural episode 14.13 “lebanon” except it’s succession austerlitz family therapy

[xxhappy-chickenxx]

Tagged in a writers ask game by the lovely @justanothervariant!! Ty bestie, i love talking abt my fics 😅💕

Rules: Go to your published works on AO3 and list the first and last fics you published there, a fic for a fandom/ship you've only written for once, your favourite fic in the fandom/ship with the most works, the fic you wish more people read, the fic you agonised over the most, the fic that sprang fully-formed from your mind with minimal effort, and a work you are proud of—for whatever reason. <3

First Fic Published: Future, Present, Past, a post-canon canon- divergence (say that 10x fast) VegasPete fic where they've been raising Venice with no knowledge of his family's past. This fic is my baby, and even though there's things I look back on that I'd change (not nearly enough Pete POV!) anyone who's read or commented on it is truly so dear to me. Venice is something that can be so personal 😌

Last Fic Published: Wedding Night 😳 listennnn I've been in my breeding era and it's not changing anytime soon. Summer break = late night horny writing hours, I don't make the rules.

One-Time Only: High and Low is my one and only BigKinn fic and it'll probably stay that way 😅 I love the angst potential, but writing the smut was such a challenge. The whole time, I was like "is this any good??" Luckily it got a lot of wonderful feedback that I'm so grateful for and I really enjoyed writing from Big's perspective!

Favorite VegasPete Fic: Oh my god, this is really hard to choose!! Especially when most of my writing is for them 😅 BUT 3 a.m. is one of my favorite fics that I've written overall, and especially for VegasPete. Writing the nightmare of Vegas dreaming that he kills Pete in the safehouse was so fun and I feel like this fic really solidified my love for angst. Vegas' panic attack and his conversation with Macau are also near and dear to my heart. This is one of the fics that I reread regularly.

Fic I Wish More People Read: Haunted by the Thought of You is a fic that I loved writing and really enjoy, but for whatever reason it just didn't get a lot of traction! I love ghosts and all things spooky, and the concept of Vegas being haunted by Tawan was just so delicious, especially when I dug into Buddhism and ghosts. If you're interested, I highly recommend checking it out 💕

Fic I Agonized Over: Pete Pray Love is my post-canon long fic and I've been struggling to get it finished. I've written, and re-written, and cut chapters, and contemplated giving up; it's been a whole process. I'm determined to stick with it (and am actually working on the final chapter right now) but I'm so grateful to the people who have supported it from the beginning and continue to engage with it!!!

Fully-Formed Fic: The first chapter of Great Expectations came to me in a horny vision; I had no idea it would spawn into a 30k longfic that's changed directions at least twice. Looking back, it could have used a bit of polish (and perhaps some lube), but ultimately it's a horny, angsty good time and I wouldn't have it any other way 😆

Fic I'm Proud Of: Playing for Keeps is so, so dear to me; I was absolutely overwhelmed by the feedback and it reinforced the feeling I had that I'd touched on something really special about love and family while writing it. This fic completely took hold of me - I wrote 10k over the course of 9 days and it occupied all my waking thoughts. The intimacy between Vegas and Pete felt really special; it's some of my favorite smut I've written purely because of how tender it is. There's something about letting someone into your life after years of closing yourself off... *cries* I could literally talk about this fic forever, it's a problem, and this is why it's getting it's own little universe bc their story is demanding to be told!!!

Ty again to Variant for the tag 💖 I'm tagging @saturnskyline, @wisteria-daydreamer, @transwegath, @xhangkyuns and ofc anyone else who wants to participate ✨✨

[little-forget-me-not]

Summary 2023

This used to be a tradition but it definitely slid off after I stopped writing much in general (especially with uni and all the damned essays) but Reba asked if I was gonna do one, so I feel compelled to try again. I kinda did one for last year too, except I logged it down by the month on my Insta journal. Extremely satisfying to read but a pain to do. Anyway, I’m already getting sidetracked lol. Unlike previous years, I don’t really have categories for these so I’ll probably just note the highlights (I’ll still try to categorise some of them):

University:

Looking back at my entries this year I can see how I was constantly close to burn out and worn thin by stress, and yet I pulled through it. I was genuinely considering dropping out again due to the immense stress…(again)

Yet despite everything, and this is the fact I keep trying to brush away, but I did well. I did really well. I’ve been scoring basically almost consistent As across the board, for every agonising essay, project and exam I had to take on, I did them well. In fact, I was able to balance over 7 different essays that included separate roleplay demonstrations/tests and NOT freak out while still having time to have fun and socialise with my friends both online and irl (mostly Vot). AND also doing over 50 commissions AND finding a part-time job and going there physically to work. Younger me would have died under all that pressure, but I managed it all pretty well. I know I’m hard on myself, so even if I did well it doesn’t always feel that way, but I really did quite alright.

I remember setting a goal this year, which was to push myself out of my comfort zone and to dive headfirst into challenges, such as interacting with people and doing things that I’m afraid of. And I did do it. I was terrified of my lab sessions where we had to roleplay in front of the class, but every time I was the first to volunteer to demonstrate roleplaying in front of the class, and I actively reached out for advice and help. I even organised several practice meet-ups with a classmate who’s now a friend, Kala! I did gain some confidence in my ability. Cyndi tells me to believe in myself, being easier on myself, not to strive so hard for perfection and be more confident as I’ve proved my abilities in both the material and practice. …yet it’s so hard to believe it, still. But I’m not backing down…even if it terrifies me.

Also the graduations I’ve been to has made me realised that I very much would love to have my own graduation too, surrounded by people who love and support me. Mama and Dawn are going to fly over for it ;m; Bea's coming too! I hope to achieve so next year.

Roleplays/Stories:

Really got into roleplays this year, both for school and for leisure. I especially finally got into fantasy thanks to LOTR. Which we watched in cinemas as they were putting out the trilogies with each new week :D Played BALDUR’S GATE 3!!!!!! With Mero! And Vivi! I love rping with Mero with our dumbass jocks.

One of my dreams came true, made so by Aura who started hosting a Pathfinder campaign called Dusk Over Dreamnest. Because of which I’ve managed to write again…for FUN! I’ve been chronicling our sessions AND writing a separate prose piece based on Bull’s POV experiences. Love that creativity.

Also joined a digimon roleplay thanks to Ryou. Honestly came up with great banger designs tis year that I’m really proud of.

Relationships:

I think my heart grew a little this year to make space for more people in it… When I travel to Finland, I realise I miss Vot or my sis, or my private spaces where I can hang out with Mero. I never really used to miss people apart from Dawn that much, so it’s nice to know it. I also miss Luca and mom when I’m back in SG. Especially hanging out with Luca. He’s such great fun. Hung out with him quite a lot this year! Went to bars for the first time, got drunk, discovered I really like non-fizzy cocktails (had the most delicious, creamy and smooth cocktail made with milk, cream and half shots of de kuper butterscotch and raspberry (each)...on and also White Russians, oh and he and Henry got me Bailey’s for Xmas :D), had lots of late night heart-to-hearts, worked out, he taught me how to do proper punches, I built IKEA furniture with him etc. Really enjoy going on holidays with him especially when the social saturation renders Dawn drained and tired. He made me realise I really valued spontaneity, enthusiasm, openness and energy in relationships. I also appreciate and value his brand of masculinity more now, instead of completely dismissing it in others. He’s really coming into his own, and I appreciate our friendship and his trust in me (like omg when he asked out the giftstore employee and immediately called me after it to tell me, I was so proud but also happy he wanted to include me in his exhilaration and triumphs). Anyway I love him too, and he’s like the brother I never had.

I got closer to Vot too! I enjoyed my very first omakase with him as a birthday meal and there’s no one else I’d rather enjoy food with. Oh, also Jason got me a birthday meal of chilli crab (2 of them AAAAAAAAAAAA) and mantou!!!!! Really made up for the tragic birthday I had last year (which was I spent my birthday with Vot this year instead). Oh and he gave me a laser-printed wooden keychain of Nuki that he drew, with forget-me-nots engraved at the back ;m; Had many great hangouts with Vot, really. He’s a very, very dear person to me. He was one of the few people I can reach out to and able to be vulnerable with. I rarely call anyone when I experience distress (except for Dawn and on occasion Mero) but it’s so nice to know I can rely on more people now. Oh, I also developed a love for board games thanks to Vot. I used to hate them but I genuinely enjoy them now (and am sad when people don’t join me)

Played Persona 5 Royal with my sis! I can’t  believe we first played it in 2017?! It’s been with us for 6 years and replaying the remastered version with her has been such a fun part of the year. It reminds me of all the fun times we used to have with each other, and she’s let me know of how important and valued those times have been for her. Persona 5 is like a CORE memory/connection for us. My sis loves me. Through her graduation and her new air stewardess job, she’s kept me in mind. Apparently she saw a co-worker with a nice pixie-cut and asked them for their hairdresser’s number so she could pass it to me (before reconsidering it because she thought I probably wouldn’t like the back cut). And she tells everyone about me?? She speaks highly of me. She was saying, “You like me? That’s because of my sis” xD Even someone she only knew for 11 days knows of me. It’s incredibly heartening… She also genuinely wants to make our Persona 5 Strikers Japan trip a reality and knowing that makes me want to make it so too. She also thought of me when she saw that there was a Joe Hisaishi concert and bought us tickets (I gotta pay her back, but she covered fees for me ;m;). Through her, I recognised the impact of my chronic depression… I noticed she’d say stuff like “You’d better not die before …” or “You cannot die…” etc whenever she feels truly fond/affectionate/appreciative of me. It made me a little sad but grateful for the sobering realisation of my impact. I spent so long suffering and struggling to stay alive that it made many of the people who did care about me genuinely afraid for my expiration. I definitely say that a lot less now…about wanting to die when depression gets too overwhelming. Or at least I only share it with a very select few when it gets too bad. 

Dawn has been a huge part of my life this year, every year, forever, hopefully. My love for her grows every year and it’s a mutual thing, and I appreciate the freedom and honesty we share about how we feel about each other, and the sad reality that we are incompatible as married companions. She once told me that she wish she was a different person so she could marry me without a thought. Which was honestly really sweet, but I’m also glad she has become someone who honours her own desires and self, and that she thanks me for it. I feel safe in the knowledge and expression of her love. It’s really nice to know that I am loved and to have it be such…a given now. I think she’s spoiled me though. I realised I’m pretty lazy and indulgent and can be very much a “princess” when given the space to be so x’D Oops. I still learn about myself when I’m with her. Also she’s really impressed me this year with her own growth and self-imposed challenges that help her develop traits she’s struggled with (like she reads so many books now..all with complicated text). I never would have pegged her to be such an erudite but then again, it doesn’t completely surprise me, but the resolve and drive she’s shown for it is incredible and inspiring. 

Hung out with more classmates this year…like Allan and Kala and I’ve made an effort to learn and remember more about people. I’m genuinely fond of Allan now and I do miss him when I’m in Singapore. I went to his graduation! He was the valedictorian! I met his husband!

I’m getting tired so I’mm rapid-fire these: Relationship with dad increased. He actually came up to me out of nowhere and passed me $200 as encouragement and to congratulate me of doing a good job with my studies. …I’m…it meant a lot and I was pleasantly shocked. His relationship with Jen has really improved relations in general. I’ve thought of him more because of such. He’s also helped me a lot with my medical bills ;m; Also mom, I’m more…interested in being a part of my family’s life..

Reconnected and met up with Ryoukishi. They were really nice and treated me to korean bbq and hotpots ;; And they shared their love of Digimon with me, and I got into it!

Mental Health:

Doubled my meds. I think it’s making a difference? I don’t really know, but from medical reports, it sounds like it is making a difference. I still feel the weight of depression and oftentimes this year I felt like I was regressing instead of progressing. But Bea said that when one is in a really dark and long tunnel, you are still moving even though it doesn’t always feel like it. Still heading towards the light, and she sees it. And that’s heartening.

Realised that I’m literally almost always overstimulated in SG which is probably why I’m in an almost perpetual state of discomfort x’D Apart from being lonely, which only heightens the discomfort. Somehow it helps to know that. Also when I got incredibly stressed I legit thought I was showing signs of psychosis.

Allan said something about not needing to suffer to succeed and I’m trying to keep that in mind.

Slightly more attempts at acknowledging my strengths instead of dismissing them…not much but some. I wrote some here. Inspired by Reba:

“You’re quick to take responsibility for mistakes, but you have the opposite for positive things. You don’t own the good things and attribute them to luck or chance, as if they have nothing to do with you. You should take responsibility for the good things too.”

For instance, W invited me to take the EFIT course despite it only being largely available to people who signed up for a separate course because it required an in-depth understanding of attachment theory. But W shared that she was so impressed with how well-written my essay was that she noted me as, “this one can”, and then encouraged me to take the course while subsidising the fees. I do write good essays. And I can leave favourable impressions. She even invited me to work part-time for her, to help out with her invoicing and administrative stuff and in compensation, not only do I get paid $15/h, I’m also getting sponsored EFT training, which is a modality I am interested in. I also facilitated a successful couple’s counselling session which was crazy. 

Other stuff:

Discovered and went to EFT (I learnt that this is a modality I'm geuninely interested in. Honestly kinda thinking of going to pursue a masters lmao but idk)

Made lu rou fan for the first time

Got a new guitar and tried learning music!

Began some brainspotting

Got mortar and pestle

Played many cool games. Like Disco Elysium (more roleplay!!!!)

Created my future vision board.

Entered an Armello competition. Won the first round with Ghor!

Sis graduated. Made me realised I would really like to have my own graduation.

Reba got me really a really cute handcrafted sushi keycap ;m;

Made new OCs like Breakfast, Kappa, Beanie (redesigned), Bullorgruokh, Ten, Martivihlar, Rae’zel and Kachimon! It’s been great to feel connected and invested in characters again.

Doubled up on my bed haha!

Tried mämmi, köyhät ritarit, for the first time and I love them! Ate reindeer steak. So GOOD.

Went to Desucon in Lahti!

Had an amazing summer! I made a video for the first time in forever chronicling our time together in Lapland.

Watched a ton of anime and shows with Aura and Luca. PMMM, Bubble, Mob Psycho 3, LOTR, Doctor Stone, Psycho Pass, Kimi ni Todoke (season 1+2), Physical 100, Bluey (fucking love Bluey), Death Note, Vinland Saga, ……just a ton that I don’t even remember now.

Learnt more about myself…maybe became more accepting about physical desires/needs (like intimacy, more casual than spiritual)

Also I learnt that I'm really impatient and restless sometimes so bye this year was pretty dope despite me being so stressed for more than half of it but I'm feeling good rn so I wanna end it on a good note!

[thesuperheroeater]

Top 10 Marvel Preds:

10 Hulk

Hulk was hungry, he needs to eat. But what could he eat in the middle of the fight? Those Ultron bots aren't tasty looking at all. But luckily for him, Clint is by his side, well not for long... Some times later, the area is cleared and Barton is deep down Hulk's gut. In which he's melting down into nothing. When Captain America came to check on them he's greated with an enormous belch accompanied with some bones and a skull.

9 Hawkeye aka Clint Barton

Clint and Scott became close friend while working together. And as such, it's natural to help each other. So when Clint was hungry, Scott was there to satisfy him. This is how Lang got consumed by the archer. Later that day, Barton is burping the ant-man suit out. keeping it as a reminder of his friend. It's good to have a friend on which you can count to satisfy your hunger, well not that Scott had much to say before getting eaten...

8 Wolverine aka Logan

Wolverine is a hunter. And is always looking for his next prey. One day After having shitting the remains of Captain America back out, he got hungry again. Luckily for him his next prey is non other than his previous meal's sidekick. Some gulps later and the Winter Soldier is down in Logan's acids gut, waiting for the same fate as his childhood friend.

7 Mister Fantastic aka Reed Richards

For his studies, Reed needs some experiments. That's why when he came to the question of the human body and it's resistance to acids, he gulped down Johnny, who wasn't pleased with it. Reed promised him to let him out after that. Which he did, just not in the same state as he went in. Some hours later Reed was shitting what had become of Johnny down the pipes. It's not like he could complain anymore...

6 Falcon aka Sam Wilson

USAgent had just eaten and digested Steve and Bucky, ignoring their agonising screams, the ripping of flesh and the cruching of bones. When he was done he burped their remains in front of Sam's feet. Seeing his friends reduced to a pile of bones, triggered Falcon. And shoved the Captain America wannabe up his ass. Making him suffer the same fate as his two friends.

5 Star-lord aka Peter Quill

Peter was a bit intimated by the presence of the god. He was so handsome, tall and muscular, it made him feel jalous. There couldn't be another alpha male on his ship, so he had to take care of him. Now Quill is in his room, listening to his songs, with a belly the size of Thor, the silhouette of the handsome blond visible throught it.

4 Thor Odinson

Hercules and Thor were good friends but also rivals. They often fight each other to know who's the better god in the Avengers. They're both very powerfull, but there will only be one victorious. And this time it was Thor, which as celebration is taking his price by swallowing Hercules. Savouring each muscles of his price, sending him straight to his gut. Now let's see if Hercules is strong enough to survive this trip...

3 Shang- Chi

The Avengers welcomed a lot of new members, and it's important to establish dominance. Shang-Chi new that. So he swallowed the other new powerfull man of the team, it being Ikaris, up his ass. The Eternal was delicious and not a problem anymore!

2 Venom aka Eddie Brock

Eddie was a close friend of Peter. He knew he was Spider-man and promised to keep it secret. But he had to admit that the kid looked too tasty. And the fact that he's living with a never satisfied symbiote in him didn't help. That's why, one day when Peter called him to hang out, he swallowed him. The kid was so fit for his age, all these muscles made his meal tastier. He doesn't even notice how fast he's devouring him, dispite the struggles of the kid. Some gulps later and he closes his mouth around the kid's feet, locking him inside of him forever, dispite the cries to release him.

Eventualy after a nice evening of digestion, all that was left of Spider-man was a big pile of bones in the kid's bedroom.

1 The Punisher aka Frank Castle

Captain America was send by schield to stop Frank Castle aka the Punisher. Putting on his stealth suit, he goes to The Punisher last known hideout. Trying to be as discreet as possible, he comes across piles of bones, lots of bones, he can believe what he saw. That's when Frank appears. Steve get imediatly in defensive possition. ''Captain America himself. The Shield is pleasing me.'' When Steve asked whose bones it was, Frank tells him they're just some Schield Agents, that couldn't survive the trip down his stomach acids. Cap couldn't believe what he heard. He ate them? ''But do not worry, as you will soon join them.'' Before Cap had the time to react, he had his head in the man's mouth. Castle continued savouring each inch of his meal. Huge slobbery gulps, and eventualy Cap is just a squirming bulge in the man stomach. Frank gave his swollen belly a slap as it's breaking down Captain America.

Sometimes later the Punisher belches loudly, burping out drool covered bones, adding Captain America to his collection. He loves it when the Schield sends his best meals.

[fandom-puff]

If you wouldn't mind, could I have an Alfie Solomons one-shot? Can it be that the reader is a Shelby and she is married to Alfie, and they are going to have dinner with the Shelby clan. But during dinner, Alfie starts touching her under the table. Also could you use number 41 and 30 from your smut prompt?

Oh I do love a bit of Alfie smut <3 hope you enjoy this ;p

The Dinner Party

warnings: under-table antics, smut, swearing and a really naff title :)

“Right, for the last time, behave yourselves, boys,” Polly warned as Alfie’s car pulled up outside. “We’ll not have a repeat of New Years’ Day, John,” she hissed. 

John raised his hands in surrender. “Anything to avoid YN breaking my nose again,” he mumbled. 

A knock sounded through the house and soon Frances brought you and your husband into the drawing-room. “Tommy! Arthur! Shalom, shalom! John... Ada, I know you. Ms Gray, a pleasure as always, and of course, young Finn,”  

You smiled softly as you hugged your brothers, Arthur mumbling “Yeah, sha-shalom? Shalom and all that, yeah,” 

You wrapped your arms around your oldest brother and he murmured into your ear “He treating you good, YN?” 

“Yes, Arthur... he’s the most loving husband I could ask for, don’t you worry,” you pulled away and he smiled softly, corners of his eyes crinkling slightly at the sight of you so happy. You hugged Tommy and John tight around the neck. “Finn been behaving himself? Been playing in the snow much? Checking his whores?” you asked, making your younger brother blush slightly and shift his feet. “Gotten anyone pregnant, yet, Finny?” you teased. 

“No, he hasn’t, thank god. Told him I’d sever his balls,” Pol grinned and you hugged your auntie. She gave you one of her infamous looks as you greeted your sister. Polly’s eyes flickered between you, your stomach, and Tommy, arching her brows.

“Where’s Karl?” you asked her. “Is he taller than me yet?” 

she smirked. “Playing with Charles and Ruby. and nearly I reckon,” she giggled, pulling you in for a hug. You had always looked up to your sister, her being the only other girl in your family, and the glamourous big sister to boot. 

 You returned to Alfie’s side, and he was chatting business with Tommy. You waited for them to finish, pouring yourself a drink, before saying “Thanks for letting us stay, Tom,”

“YN, love, you’re always welcome here. I suppose he is as well, so long as you behave yourself, eh, Alf,” 

You wrapped your arm around Alfie’s waist, leaning your head against his arm (you couldn’t quite reach his shoulder) and smiled as he laughed heartily. 

Soon, the Shelby clan- plus Alfie- gathered around the long table and ate merrily. You were chatting across the table, teasing John for letting his kids and dog run rings around him when you felt a firm hand pressed to your thigh. You hid your gulp by drinking some wine as Alfie trailed his hand further up, hitching your skirt up over your knee and up your thigh.

 You were glad Tommy was able to afford ridiculously long table cloths. 

You let out a shaky breath, focusing on your meal as your husband teased the inside of your thighs. he leaned down to murmur in your ear. To Finn, who was opposite you, it was an innocent enough gesture, especially when Alfie pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek. The Shelby’s were used to your open affection. 

“Alfie... There are people here...” you whispered, stroking his beard gently. 

he smirked and tapped your nose. “If you behave yourself, I think I’ll skip dessert and have you instead,” he muttered and you nodded in agreement. As the dinner wore on, you covered up a lot of moans by swallowing plenty of wine. Arthur teased you about working your way through two and a half glasses throughout dinner but you simply complemented Tommy on his choice of red. 

An agonising hour later you quickly stood up, excusing yourself from the table. “Thank you so much for a lovely dinner Tom,” you said quickly. “But we left London early this morning... and... and I’m... tired...” you said. “Goodnight, everyone,” you hurried away, scurrying to the guest room that the maids had put your stuff in. Alfie left it another few minutes before excusing himself too. 

“They’ve gone to fuck, haven’t they?” Tommy said, pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking his head. 

“Oh, most definitely,” Ada said slyly. 

***

“What the fuck took you so long?” you hissed as Alfie shut the door. 

“Didn’t wanna make it obvious, love, did I? and your brother’s house is fucking massive, I got lost three times and-” you shut him up, pressing your lips tight to his,  and pulling him over to the bed. 

“Alfie, please don’t tease, not now, please,” you whined. “Look- feel how wet you made me at the table,” you tugged his hand to feel beneath your dress and he grinned lopsidedly at your arousal seeping through your underwear. 

“If you, right, didn’t like my teasing,” he smirked. “Why were you moaning, eh?” 

You blushed. “Because... because... oh shut up Alfie, and fuck me, please?” you pleaded, licking your lips. 

“tell you what, love,” he smirked, setting his hat and stick aside. “why don’t you strip me down and show me just how much you want my cock, yeah? And then i just might fuck you silly, eh?” 

Extremely happy with this compromise you began undoing his buttons, frantically removing his overcoat, waistcoat, hair shirt and vest, tossing them to the side as he chuckled at your eagerness. you dropped his trousers and he kicked them off his ankles. “Lie on the bed, Alf,” you said gently. 

“forgetting something, love?” he gestured to his underwear. 

“Lie on the bed, Alfie,” you repeated, a little firmer. He smirked and did as he was told, laying back and relaxing into the pillows, arms up and hands behind his head. you hummed softly, pressing your hand over his underwear, feeling his hot length twitch beneath your small hand. He hissed at the friction, licking his lips as you slowly lowered his underwear down over his cock. You moaned lowly, leaning down to flick your tongue over the sensitive, red tip, wrapping your lips around it and suckling like a lollipop, pressing your tongue against the slit. He growled low in his throat and bucked his hips up. 

“Fuckin’ ‘ell love,” he grunted, grasping a fistful of your hair. “Sit up before I come down your throat,” he demanded. “And take that pretty dress off as well,” 

You groaned, lapping up the salt of his precum. you shimmied out of your dress as quickly as was humanly possible and took the liberty of getting rid of your underwear too, leaving you naked in front of him. he licked his lips. “Eager, aren’t you?” he smirked, and you nodded. 

“Come ‘ere, darlin’“ he hummed. “come and sit yourself on my cock, eh?” you whimpered at his words and nodded, eagerly straddling him. You licked your lips, slowly settling yourself down on him, whining out loudly at the stretch and at the gravity pulling you down more. Shuddering, you clenched your knees around his broad hips as you started gyrating your hips in a figure-of-8. 

Alfie growled primally, grasping your hips, surely leaving fingertip-shaped bruises on your flesh. You moaned out, starting to bounce yourself, pushing your breasts out. Seizing his opportunity, Alfie captured a nipple in his mouth, sucking and flicking his tongue over the pebbled peak the way he knew you adored, his groans rumbling around your breast and through to your heart as you fucked yourself on his cock. you grasped his hair in your fists, tugging desperately, pulling him up so his magical mouth could envelop yours in a bruising, knee-weakening kiss. You whined into his mouth as you rutted your hips, desperately wanting to reach your completion mounted atop his thick, pulsing cock. “Please, Alf! Please make me come!” he grunted in response and pinched your nipple roughly, tugging it away from your body and twisting teasingly. you gasped, a spasm of delicious, painful pleasure soaring down to your core, the pressure coiling tight in your belly as you reached climax. “Fuck! Fuck! Alfie!” you practically sobbed, falling forwards into his chest, hips still bouncing desperately. With a sloppy thrust upwards, he filled you with his come, groaning a mixture of your name and a hell of a lot of praise in a delightful combination of Yiddish and English. 

Breathless, you slid off his cock, leaning down to kiss him tenderly. “I love you, Alf,” you whispered gently tugging the bedsheets around you both as he turned on his side and pulled you tight to his chest, allowing a blissful sleep to overtake you both. 

Neither of you was aware of your family downstairs snickering and cringing at the sound of sweet YN Shelby making loud and passionate love to a Solomons, in Tommy Shelby’s house. 

[marvelfansince08love]

The Pleasure is all mine  Chapter 3 - Part 2

Word Count: 1831

Pairing: Lou Miller x Fem!Reader.

Setting: Continuation from chapter 3 part 1.

Warnings: Pure Fluff to be honest. 

A/N: As if I’ve uploaded another chapter in the space of three days, is this the new me?... probably not. I hope you enjoy the chapter! I had to do a little bit of research for this one. Attempted to proofread however fell asleep after doing a 12 hour shift - go me! so I do apologise for any grammar or spelling mistakes. I spent way too long trying to make the format perfect but alas Tumblr wants to see me suffer.

Your comments/ feedback brings happiness to this potato trash! 🖤

Tags: @waitingfortheendtocome @natasha-danvers @5aftermidnight @iamheartless @deadly-darling​ @gaylorrds 

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Chapter 3 - Part 2  

Holy shit!

"I'm sorry, I thought for a second there you said you were a con artist. I didn't realise we were in a movie" I say sarcastically. Her lip quirks up slightly but her eyes stay locked with mine.

 "You can't be serious! Is that why Debbie was shot at?!" 

 "A group called Python have been collecting Breitling Chronomat watches worth over 8million a piece in exchange for 18k white gold #rings with over 250 brilliant-cut diamonds in each one. In shorter terms they are worth more than the watches to these guys, apparently the ringleader has ancestors who inherited these rings which were stolen and auctioned off. It's known that at least four of those rings are based right here in New York in our very own Cartier store. We scanned them, made some of our own. it was supposed to be a simple exchange but something went wrong. A gun was pulled - the poor kid was only young, I guess he panicked. Probably didn't want to go back to his boss and explain how he lost the entire set of watches worth more than his life as well as being outwitted by a woman. She was lucky he was such a crap shot" 

I gape at her in utter shock. 

"I think, I need a glass of wine" I whisper mainly to myself, but Lou hears and goes to stand. I watch her carefully, taking in her rigid posture her eyes darting back towards me as she heads to the kitchen.

 Probably to make sure I don't run out on her again.  

She walks back over with a big glass of white and places it in front of me, instead of sitting back on the edge of the sofa occupied by Debbie she perches on the edge of the table, so we're knee to knee. She reaches forward and takes hold of my hands keeping them in-between both of hers. 

"I know this is a lot to take in and trust me, that job was dangerous, and we don't normally work that way. It won't be happening again, but I at least owe you an explanation. I understand if after this you never want to see me again, I totally deserve that after putting you through this" her hands tightening around mine, I finally look up and see her eyebrows pinched in a frown, her eyes glossed over. 

I gently remove my hands from hers and take a big gulp from my glass before putting it down and reaching over to cup her jawline. My thumb caresses her cheek, she leans into my touch just a fraction - her eyes closed.

"You promise me that in future you tell me exactly what's going on. No secrets Lou, I don't want this sort of thing dropping on me again because if that's the case I'm afraid I can't be with... around you" my words strong and clear - completely the opposite to how I'm really feeling - scared and unsure. Her eyes open showing me those beautiful crystal blues, with a small smile on those delicious lips.

 "Okay"

 I grin.

 "Okay"

 *** 

After what seems like hours of talking, we finally reached an understanding. With all the serious talk over with, we gradually move on to lighter topics - mainly Lou asking about me. 

"So, you are telling me you decided to become a Nurse after your brother ripped the arm off your most precious teddy, if that doesn't scream childhood trauma" she smirks teasing me. I blush at her smirk and gently shove at her arm which causes her to stumble back slightly making her laugh.

 "Yes! I ended up stitching him back up and nursing him back to health, thank you very much" I laugh along with her, we hear Debbie stir from the sofa across the room. We both turn to look at her resting peacefully and with no signs of fever.

 We chuckle quietly before a yawn escapes me. Lou sees me yawn before standing up and put her hands out for me to take.

 "Come on you can crash here tonight, I'm sorry I didn't realise how late it was. Fuck! you've been on shift as well, I'm an awful person"

 "It's okay Lou I'm used to it but seriously I can go home, I'll get a cab" she's already shaking her head at my proposition.

 "Not happening, its 2 in the morning Y/N you can sleep in my bed"

 I raise an eyebrow at that.

 "Don't worry we're both adults here I'm sure we can share a bed without ripping each other’s clothes off Y/N"

 "Who says I want to rip your clothes off Miller"

 She smirks devilishly and steps into my space, making me walk backwards until my back hits a wall. She places her hands on either side of my head and leans in close until her nose brushes lightly against mine, her lips almost brushing against mine. My breath hitches, my eyes drawing to her lips.

 "Cheek - but we both know this isn't the time or the place" there's an agonising pause and then:

 "It really isn't, so could you horny lesbians take it to a private room away from my poor innocent ears. Hearing this is worse than being shot at"

 We both jump apart and turn towards Debbie who is now sat up taking her next dose of medication. I feel my cheeks redden in embarrassment. I can't believe we almost got caught like some horny teenagers.

 "Is the offer for the bed still available" I say quietly into Lou's ear who seems to be preoccupied staring Debbie down.

 "Of course, first floor, second door on the left"

 I say a quick thanks before sliding away from Lou's side and towards the stairs.

 "Good night Y/N thank you again" Debbie teases all while staring straight back at Lou with a grin. I blush even harder if that's even possible before muttering a good night while taking the stairs two at a time.

 ***

 Once I've washed my face in the ensuite bathroom I turn towards the large bed in the middle of the room; Lou's bed. Before I can think more about the bed arrangement, Lou appears against the door frame of the room.

 "You can borrow some clothes if you like? I have some shorts and oversized shirts"

 "That would be great actually" I stand awkwardly by the bed, watching as Lou goes towards a table of draws. She passes me the pieces of clothing and stands with her arms crossed.

 I raise an eyebrow and twirl my finger around indicating for her to turn around. Her hands come up in mocking surrender before turning around with a wide grin.

 "Are you always this cheeky or do I get special treatment"

 Her shoulders shaking indicating her laughter.

 "Only for you, love"  

 I grin softly and quickly change into the clothes I've been given. The shorts stop mid-thigh while the old band t-shirt flows just above the knee. I decide last minute to abandon the shorts seeing no use for them.

 Besides the shirt covers what it needs to and showing a little bit of leg never hurt no one.  

 "You can turn around now"

 With her hands still up she turns back around, once she sees me standing there her hands drop to her side, her eyes dropping to the bottom of my feet and slowly making their way up - taking in my form. Her eyes darken, I see her swallow hard before she shakes her head.

 "So, I normally take the left side as it's closer to the door. You're welcome to the right side of the bed though"

 "Shouldn't one of us stay with Debbie? I don't feel comfortable leaving her by herself"

 "Don't worry Tammy came down just after you left, she's going to stay with her. I did try to get her to go back up, but she refuses to leave her side. I'm surprised she even let us keep her away for so long"

 "Oh, oh"

 "Yeah" she says with a smirk amused by my realisation.

 You couldn't have gotten it more wrong, nice move L/N.

 "We should get to bed, I'm sorry again for keeping you up. I promise I'll make it up to you" she says, making her way to her side of the bed. I reluctantly make my way to the other side and slowly make myself comfortable lying on my back facing the ceiling. I feel Lou shift around trying to get comfortable, from the corner of my eye I notice her lying towards me the soft glow from the streetlights lighting up her face - just enough to see those crystal blue eyes and that signature smirk.

 "So, do you want me to stack a few pillows in a line between us or I could make us a fort"

 I chuckle quietly before turning onto my side so we're facing each other. Her hand reaches forward, her fingertips brush gently across my cheek; brushing my hair out of my face.

 "So beautiful" she whispers. I bite my lip gently and drop my gaze - suddenly feeling very shy.

 "Downstairs before - if we weren't interrupted do you think you would have done it"

She smirks softly, a glint of amusement in her eyes.

 "Would have done what, love?"

I roll my eyes playfully knowing she's making me say it.

 "Kissed me"

 Her playful demeanour changes to something more serious.

 "Is that what you want Y/N, for me to kiss you?" There's a pause while I debate my answer.

 "Yes"

 Before I have a chance to continue Lou leans forward, her hand still resting gently against my jawline and brushes her lips against mine before pressing firmer deepening the kiss. Her lips are soft, the taste of cherries and wine. I moan softly at the feel of her lips against mine but before I can take it any further Lou pulls away reluctantly. I look at her in confusion, suddenly scared that I might have taken it too far. She leans her forehead against mine and presses a light kiss to my nose before brushing against it with her own lightly.

 "As much as I would love to continue this, I really want to take you out on a date"

 "A date?"

 "Yes, it's when two people who really like each other..."

 "I know what a date is, smartass" I chuckle at her playfulness and her stupid grin.

 "So, will you? Go on a date with me"

 "Yes, I'll go on a date with you" with a big grin I lean forward and kiss her cheek softly. She smiles a proper smile before putting her arm around my waist - pulling me closer. Her lips brushing against my forehead.

 "Good night Y/N"

 "Good night Lou, sweet dreams"

 Closing my eyes, I drift into a deep sleep, thinking about those soft lips and crystal blue eyes.

[ifyouvegotthemoneyhoney]

Sunset Love ch. 3: Ain’t nobody here but us

"Slash, what's up, man?"

Duff had broken off mid-phrase, frowning. Izzy and Steven let the drums and guitar peter out. Slash lifted his head, cigarette smouldering among his curls.

"What?"

"You've been on another planet since we started. You OK?"

Slash took a deep drag, stalling.

"Sure," he said, extracting the cigarette from his mouth and blowing out a long trail of smoke at the ceiling. "Never better."

The others looked at him suspiciously. He'd been missing notes, coming in late, fluffing riffs. This was Slash, Mr Guitar God. No matter how much he'd drunk or smoked the night before, no matter how little sleep he'd got, when it came to guitar and the band, he always delivered the goods. Until today.

"Right. From the top," said Duff eventually. He locked eyes with Steven, counted them in and they were off again.

Slash berated himself as he tried to concentrate on his playing. Fuck, the guys were actually noticing. He had to get it together or they'd start coming to conclusions.

He'd stayed out as long as he could that morning, wandering penniless around Sunset and Hollywood as the sun came up, bumming cigarettes from other street rat acquaintances he bumped into. As the booze wore off, he couldn't stop thinking about what had happened with Axl, and his mood had plummeted.

What the fuck had he been thinking, letting that happen again? They had kissed before, when Axl lived in Slash's house, in his basement room. But they had agreed that time: they weren't fags. The band was all about maleness - straight maleness. Jokes and banter about fags and queers were part of their daily routine. Insinuating that one of the others was a homo was always met with instant aggression or a counter-accusation. Where did what had happened the night before fit into that?

Thank God for his hair, tumbled all over his face. It let him avoid meeting Axl's eye. Not that that seemed likely - the singer had his back to Slash all rehearsal. Slash wondered whether Axl even remembered. Maybe it had been all the Jack? Had Axl even been awake?

Anger seethed inside him. He had never agonised like this over a chick, even proper girlfriends.

He clenched his jaw as he played. A headache was banging in his forehead. Axl was in his line of sight now, doing that new snake dance thing he'd seen some other singer do. It looked ridiculous, Slash told himself. Turning his heels out and swaying his hips. It made his ass ripple under his jeans like a goddamn woman's. Slash realised his eyes were lingering on that ass. He closed his eyes and shook his head as if to shake out the thoughts.

He felt a physical sense of relief when Izzy finally called, "I gotta slip out. Slash, coming?"

Slash knew what that meant. Izzy had a number of contacts in the area who supplied him with chemical sustenance of various kinds. Lately it had been lumps of brown, sticky, sweet heroin, which Izzy showed him how to inject. Slash's energy lifted immediately at the prospect. He leaned his guitar against the wall and followed Izzy out the door, keeping his eyes down.

***

Sweet, delicious, soft, floating, spinning, bliss ...

Slash's eyes opened a little and he realised he'd nodded out, his head propped against the cinder block wall. He pulled open his eyelids a bit more. All five of them were here in the studio, sprawled around the floor in various states of highness. There were girls there too, and a few guys he half-recognised as members of the band who practised in the unit next door. One of them was lying on top of a girl, humping her, her feet clenched against his white ass as it pumped. The door was open and Slash heard the sounds of more partying coming from the lot outside.

He jerked awake again. More hours must have passed. He could just about make out a weak light through the gap in the door, casting everything in the studio shades of grey. People were starting to stagger to their feet, stumbling out the door in ones and twos, calling goodbye.

"Duff took his coat back, the bastard." The voice was smooth, low, restrained.

Slash tried to think of a reply but his brain was too wasted. Axl was kicking aside empty beer cans and bottles, clearing space on the floor. Through the slits between his eyelids, Slash watched as Axl pulled something out of a grocery bag and shrugged it on. It was the fake-snakeskin jacket some girl had given him. It came from the thrift store and looked it. Axl loved it.

"We really gotta get some bedding, man," Axl muttered as he lowered himself against the wall beside Slash and started to lie down.

Before he knew it, Slash moved away instinctively. Axl looked at him, surprised.

Slash summoned up the balls to return the look, meeting his eyes.

"What?" asked Axl, propped on an elbow.

Slash cursed himself internally. He really was shit with words. How could he express the fucked-up turmoil of thoughts in his head?

"What the fuck was that the other night?" he finally managed.

Axl's brow furrowed. Was he really going to say he didn't remember? Yet more rage added to the cauldron already boiling in Slash's head.

"You fucking kissed me, man," Slash blurted, his emotion overtaking his awkwardness.

Axl was still staring at him.

"Not just like - y'know - a joke - it ..." He could only finish the sentence in his mind: it felt like you meant it.

Axl pushed himself back up to sitting and leaned his head back against the wall. Dawn light filtering through the door highlighted his profile. That cute nose. Those perfect lips.

"Did you kiss me back?" said Axl, eyes at the ceiling.

Now it was Slash's turn to stare.

"You serious? That's what you say?"

Axl turned his head. Slash looked at his face, inches away from his own. The shadows beneath the cheekbones. The tiny one just below the bottom lip. The eyes, their green turned grey in the dim light, deep and beautiful. Slash was suddenly very conscious of his mouth. His lips tingled. He felt them moving towards the other man's. He felt Axl's hand on his jaw. It was happening.

The last time had been slow, incredulous. This time their desire was clear. Their lips and teeth clashed urgently, tongues exploring the insides of each other's mouths as they gripped the back of each other's skulls. Slash's head was swimming but not like from dope; no, these were  different chemicals, ones that came from deep within his body, not outside, creating reactions that exploded in his groin and made him groan deep inside his throat.

Axl smiled, breaking the kiss, leaning his forehead against Slash's, still gripping the back of his head.

"I guess you kissed me back this time," grinned Axl.

Slash looked down but couldn't help smiling too, moving his fingers in the smooth silkiness of the other man's hair, the solidity of his skull.

"I don't know what's happening, man," he said, realising he was whispering. "We agreed..."

"Hey," said Axl, tilting up Slash's jaw with his fingers, making him meet his eye. Oh, that voice, that deep, sexy rumble.

"We can... un-agree," Axl went on quietly, one corner of his mouth tilting up.

"But..." said Slash, unable to stop his hands from moving to Axl's ribcage, bare under his jacket. The skin was warm, baby soft.

"We don't have to analyse it," said Axl, stroking the tip of his nose against Slash's. Slash could feel Axl's lips moving glancingly against his own as he spoke. "It's OK."

"I'm not... you're not..."

"Slash." The sound was so soft coming from Axl's mouth, the "shhh" at the end lingering unbelievable sexily. It made Slash's cock, already straining against the restraint of his jeans, twitch and pulsate.

Axl pushed himself to standing and strode to the door. The light in the room disappeared as it closed. Slash heard boots on the floor, then felt Axl's body against his again.

"Ain't nobody here but us," he whispered into Slash's mouth.

[colitisandme]

Yesterday was a bad day. With IBD, some days are bad days, some really bad days and yesterday was the equivalent of your shoes getting stolen whilst having a nap on a train having to leave the station to find it’s raining, stepping on poo, then have a driver throw a rancid burrito at you out of a car window whilst pigeons watch nearby. Now you are being chased by pigeons who think you resemble a wet, walking, snack. So you run bare foot and screaming through a group of people, Knocking them over like bowling pins. You run and run, still screaming, trying in vain to get back to your house, only to find you’ve dropped your keys somewhere between stepping in poo, losing your shoes and getting attacked by wild hungry birds. And so wet, bitten and smelly, you sit on your doorstep, looking like you’ve been dragged through a hedge backwards, until a nice neighbour invites you in to their house. Once inside, he makes you stand on kitchen roll in his hallway, and shoes the rest of the family away from you into the lounge, until the locksmith comes out and lets your shivery, embarrassed, bedraggled self into your own house, eyeing you up with a mixture of suspicion and horror as you squelch up the stairs. Yep yesterday was like that.

It started out okay. I hadn’t slept for the 3rd night in a row and so was starting to resemble something from ‘the night of the living dead.’ I fed our bunnies, who looked slightly alarmed when this swamp like creature appeared at their hutch door, and to show their disgust at my bedraggled, bloodshot eyed appearance, scuttled off into their bedroom area and did not re-appear until I filled up their food bowls. In the process of doing this and leaning down to give them some affection, I proceeded to fall over and nearly break my leg on one of their toys, which in turn, caused me to yell out loudly, scrabbling to keep myself upright. After I tried to gain my balance, they proceeded to thump at me in chorus for disturbing their peaceful breakfast time, ignore my cries of pain and rebuff my attempts to pacify them with pieces of dried fruit. I then hobbled back inside, groaning and cursing my need to make sure our bunnies were stimulated by making our shed into the equivalent of the ‘Toys R’Us bunny sanctuary’ proclaiming war and future destruction of all cardboard tunnels, fed our doggy guest then tried to start my day.

My body was being a D**k! A true arsehole. Firstly it spent the first hour convincing me I needed to go to the loo, (hadn’t been for 3 days) and so I spent that hour running backwards and forwards to my bathroom like I was on a travelator, sweating, swearing, grunting, in pain and nauseous before finally forcing myself to go. My poor bum was in tatters and my hands became red and sore because I had clenched my fists so hard, there were nail marks imbedded into my palm. The dog didn’t understand my pain, as I limped over to the freezer and put ice on my paws and just wanted strokes and belly rubs so I nursed my paws and stroked the dog, thankful she too didn’t love cardboard tunnels. As well as now dealing with leg injury and ice paws, I had been, for the past few days living with a bite on my arm, due to some demon insect deciding it would fuck up my week by taking a chunk out of my arm. This might not sound like much, but my immune system is shot and I am also really helpfully, allergic to the one bug that chewed on me, so it’s a big deal.

It picked on me when I was trying to be a good fur baby mum, and clean out my bunnies shed. He flew up out of the hay and sank his little insecty fangs into my poor unsuspecting flesh. Although bumpy and itchy, I put some cream on it, wrapped ice around my arm and hoped for the best. Well my arm ballooned. My whole left forearm resembled a cross between Popeye and the Michelin man. After rubbing my arm, then cursing myself for scratching myself into a stupor and declaring war on all things insecty and bitey, ( I never harm any animal including spiders, snails, bees wasps etc but I draw the line at fly’s and horseflys because they find me perfectly delicious) I instructed my husband to get me some hydrocortisone cream and I found some Anti itch cream nestled in my bag to slather all over it. But it was too late. I once watched a documentary which stated, that a bear will travel hundreds of miles to visit his favourite ‘scratching tree’ and I now understand the extroadinary travel time and distance he would go to, just to happily scratch himself for a few hours. I was so bloody itchy I was rubbing myself on anything to relieve that itch. Anything. And if anyone would have seen me, I would have looked demented with my tongue on one side, trying to rub my arm up and down the wooden beams in my house with a look on my face that resembled madness and sheer euphoria. Of course this was a mistake, and soon all the antihistamine coursed through my body and hundreds of hives had popped up, so I knew I just had to grit my teeth and wait it out. 3 days later, hair on end, sleepless, eyes wide, hungry and my bum in tatters I had lost a lot of my reserves.

You would think that my body, at this point, would take pity on me. Give me a cuddle, send me up to bed with a warm drink of peppermint and liquorice tea (god I miss hot chocolate) and shush me to sleep with the southing sounds of whale music, but no. It was mean and refused to comfort me or lull me to sleep using soft tones or the sounds of the sea. It really wanted to scream obscenities at me and serenade me with symphonies that sounded like the music was being played by an irate toddler who would use a combination of drums, violin and cymbals to piss me and my ears off. And so right at the moment I sat itchy, cold pawed, bruised and tattered, sore, hair on end, achey, with my eyes on stalks... I got my period. (Sorry to all the guys reading this)

The pain smacked into me like a freight train. An absolute punch to the gut and then reversed and slammed into my back to make doubly sure it really hurt me in my tender spots. Already in quite a lot of pain, It absolutely took my breath away. IBD makes me feel like my whole body is full of stones. I personally feel like I am never empty, and stones take up a lot of bloody room in an already swollen, angry, raw space that doesn’t appreciate more visitors. Yesterday the IBD was rampant. Now this. “NO COCKING WAY, “THERES NO MORE ROOM” I yelled out. “I AM FULL” My body didn’t listen and ignored my screams and my protestations, and continued to fill the already cramped, raw, ragged and heavy space with what felt like shards of glass. So with itchy skin, clusters of hives all down my arm, sore hands, sore bum, sore stomach, bags under my eyes and now dealing with agonising pain searing throughout the lower half of my body, I lost it. I cried. I didn’t want to cry, because the sobs made my body hurt. But right at that moment I lost it. I hated my body. I didn’t understand why it was hurting me so much. I staggered to the kitchen, made myself a water bottle, got some water, and lay down. I knew I couldn’t get through this with meditation, I knew I couldn’t solve this with mindfulness and I couldn’t take painkillers. I just had to ride it out. It got to afternoon and I was in so much agony I couldn’t have a wash, cook or get myself upstairs and so I ate a banana to keep me going until the pain subsided.

It didn’t subside. It didn’t let up at all. Not for one millisecond. Every time I moved it felt like my whole body was being squeezed by a boa-constrictor, every time I breathed, I would cramp. Every time I took a small bite of banana or a sip of water, my whole body reacted with venomous anger. There was nothing I could do. Nothing except to wait, and stroke the Dog’s ears who laid next to me and looked at me with concerned and loving eyes.

My wonderful, caring husband came home and saw my sad blotchy face. He listened to me as I cursed IBD, my body, being a woman, nasty insects and the perils of bunny toys, wiped my tears, gave me a huge cuddle and helped me to have a shower. It hurt. Getting out of the shower hurt. Getting dried made me yell out in pain, putting fresh PJs on caused me pain. He then tucked me up, got me 3 water bottles, and put on Masterchef Australia whilst he sorted out dinner, bunnies and general household ness. (My Husband is awesome.)

The pain went on and on, like Dante’s seventh circle of hell. It was during this time I (mistakenly) put a post up on FB about what a shit day I was having. So because I have been out of work, I have spoke to a couple of at home type businesses for possible income ideas, and I couldn’t believe it but during my extreme pain episode, one messaged me privately, and started up a conversation trying to sell me their product. Now, I am hugely respectful of anyone trying to make a living online, from home or in any capacity, and had already had a few conversations with this particular lady explaining that I couldn’t afford her ‘start up package’ nor her products, and so when she messaged me again I was surprised.

Through the haze of my groin splitting pain, I again explained I couldn’t afford her high costs, and I thought that would stop the conversation but no, she pushed it. She was trying to use the fact I was in pain, discomfort and misery at that moment to get a ruddy sale. I was appalled. What the hell did she expect me to do or say? “Sure, I would love to gab away with you like gal pals while I cross my eyes, grind my teeth and chew my fist in pain due to an angry gremlin gnawing away on my intestines and womb! I would definitely love to hear about all the exact uses of wuffle dust, and how it will cure all my aches and pains as I try not to swear, vomit or hurl myself into the bathroom. No sodding problem. Let me just get my cocking credit card”... I couldn’t believe she used that moment to try and make me a customer. I got really angry. I couldn’t believe she would do that, in that way, at that time. I honestly truly was stunned that someone would try and take advantage of me like that and so, once I could focus through the pain, I told her so. I explained politely that what she did was wrong, how shitty it made me feel, and although I had huge respect for her and her product, I no longer wanted to have any contact with her. I then proceeded to erase her from my social media. I do not want to associate with anyone who would use someone’s vulnerability to get a sale. It’s disgusting.

It was way past midnight when most of the world was quiet and I had uttered every swear word I could think of, that my body finally relented to sleep. And as I staggered, exhausted upstairs, feeling used by my body, manipulated by people and generally hacked off at the world, I reached out to a few others who were also having a shit day. As we all experienced our own pain, we lifted each other up, laughed, chatted through tears and cursed our irrate and unco-operative bodies. Just before finally drifting off to sleep we all wholeheartedly agreed that sometimes, on days like this, there really aren’t enough swear words in the world to make the minute, the hour, the moment or day better, but yelling out or whispering through gritted teeth, the most creative and bizarre ones we could think of to ourselves, definitely helps.

[thesinglesjukebox]

SELF ESTEEM - GIRL CRUSH

[6.56]

No word on whether radio stations are allegedly pulling this from their lineup... yet.

William John: I'm very attached to the music of Slow Club -- mostly because I saw them once in a tiny venue that couldn't have held many more than a hundred people, and witnessed the affinity that existed between members Charles Watson and Rebecca Taylor, almost like that of siblings, at such close range. Nonetheless, it's impossible to deny that Taylor has always had a voice that was built to soar beyond the confines of twee, and thus if the dissolution of the band results in her breakout as a solo artist you won't find me lodging a complaint. Taylor's album as Self Esteem, Compliments Please, is more or less the precise midpoint of U.S. Girls and Lily Allen -- it approaches millennial womanhood in a way that's both forthright and playful. An early highlight is "Girl Crush," where a thudding drum and loping strings grow more and more confident as the song progresses, enveloping Taylor as she rebukes the performative queerness that often comes with using the titular expression. Taylor's voice has always been big, but I'm not sure that it's ever hit with as much blunt sincerity as it does here. [8]

Katie Gill: At least it's not as blatantly no-homo as that other "Girl Crush" song. The strings are beautiful, the flute is superb, and the harmonies in the bridge are SUPERB. This has all the makings of an absolute banger. But I just can't fully get behind that minimalist hand-clap beat. There are parts where it works but there are parts, like the outro, where the gorgeous, lush harmonies and instruments are layered over each other that it feels completely out of place, like a relic put in solely to keep the song from sounding too "classical." [7]

Iain Mew: It sounds like Jax Jones/Ina Wrolden's "Breathe" if interpreted by Empress Of, which is an unexpected and great combination, moving fast with rawness and banging determination. That's before adding on the flute and strings, too, which add an extra edge of uneasy conviction. [8]

Katherine St Asaph: When I've liked Slow Club it's been for high drama, and the string loop on "Girl Crush" qualifies: very transplanted-Eurovision-hit, could've been on an Emmelie de Forest track, and thus very great. Rebecca Taylor's voice lends an additional Sophie Ellis Bextor-ish archness I don't hear nearly enough. Shame about those reedy background vocals, though. [7]

Anthony Easton: The vocals in this are perfect, sliding, meeting, cruising and splitting, reinforcing and isolating in equal measure. This might be one of the better metaphors for the liquidity of desire this year -- made better by some weird instrumental choices, including what I think are panpipes. [7]

Vikram Joseph: There's a strange and intoxicating combination of modern alt-pop production and idiosyncratic embellishments (panpipes, dramatic Baroque string flourishes) at work here; it took me several listens to figure out that it reminded me of Wounded Rhymes-era Lykke Li. This is a simmering, serpentine pop song, eschewing easy options at every turn; even the four-chord throb of the chorus ("somebody / toooluvme") feels deliciously unresolved, mirroring the conflicted emotions of the lyrics, in which Rebecca Taylor firmly reminds a potential lover that, as a queer woman, she's not a toy to be played with. The concept is a little reminiscent of Tegan & Sara's "Boyfriend," but where Sara agonised over her partner's intransigence, "Girl Crush" is steelier and deals in different stakes. You don't get the feeling that Taylor is in love here, just that she refuses to be messed around by someone for whom queerness is a fun detour rather than a lived experience. "Experiment in your own time," she warns, "I'm not your tour guide." [8]

Tim de Reuse: A dull, unadorned dembow rhythm spins in circles underneath the bizarre, awkward chant of "SomeboDY / to luv-ME," which mangles its syllables together in a way that repetition does not heal. The final minute, at least, is rescued by a spike in energy that flows in with a swooping, well-utilized string section, some propulsive backing vocals, and lyrics that use fewer slant rhymes. [6]

Joshua Minsoo Kim: I'm sorry, but these handclaps never end, and they get on my nerves when placed in a song that doesn't develop into anything. The pan flute sounds like sampled stock music, and it's exacerbated by strings that are as ugly and theatrically forthright as the ones in Clean Bandit's "Rather Be." [3]

Iris Xie: I have no idea what genre this song is, but the last time I heard the same style, it was Through Juniper Vale's "Bird Song." They both have this jaunty, asymmetrical hyper-pop folk song style, with bombastic uses of strings, lots of backup vocals and high-toned lilts, but it comes off as jumpy, hyper, and disorganized and hard to listen to without having to be on their particular tempo. [5]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox]

[baekhyuns-abs]

Slave to Pleasure [30]

(gif not mine, credit to the original owner) A/N: Here’s some smut for you <3 Warning: Sexual content

“Hi…” She lifted her eyes from the ancient history book she had begun reading and there he stood. Baekhyun walked towards her with caution, his eyes downcast and his hands behind his back. His hair was a perfect mopped mess on his head and the white shirt he wore was old, baggy and faded but he pulled it off so deliciously the way it was tucked into his leather trousers - his tight leather trousers. She was sat at a long grand wooden table, books stacked high around her, her hair in a delicate plait hanging off her shoulder. It had been weeks since the return of Yixing and she had felt relieved when her sullen caretaker had come to her when he had regained strength. She hugged him tightly, and he hugged her back with the same vigor. He lingered in her chambers for days and she didn’t mind it, she had missed him, she missed his presence, no matter how much she could see his sorrow for the loss of Luhan; a vampire she had once met in the woods. Baekhyun however had made himself scarce and she longed to see him. She had waited for him to come around, following the words of Yixing - that her master would need a lot of recuperating.   Baekhyun braced himself on the back on a chair, his arms leaning on the thick wood, bracing the weight of his torso as he looked down at her from across the table. It was a mere meter - if that - away from her but the space was agonising. She longed to touch him. His expression unreadable and his skin as pale and gaunt as ever. Bags lined his eyes and she could see the veins beneath his skin as if he was made of thin paper. He needed to feed. “How are you feeling?” She asked, closing the book. There was a pause and a small smirk from the vampire. “Better for seeing you…” His voice was low a little gruff and and it made her heart swell. “Why didn’t you come earlier?” She stood up eagerly and Baekhyun flinched from the table as she made her way round it. “I couldn’t.” Baekhyun moved away from her as she advanced on him with the grace of a woman he knew he didn’t deserve. “Don’t-- Don’t do that.” She hushed. His jaw tensed and he wanted to scratch away the pain in his throat as her lively heartbeat drummed his ears. Her scent so potent and so alluring had his body betraying him. He could taste her in his mouth and his teeth ached. His hands tightened into fists as the small part of his sanity screamed at his mistake - he shouldn’t have come to see her. She could see his restraint and she swallowed, trepidation swirling in her stomach. She clutched her hands tightly in front of her, grounding herself for what she was about to ask. “A-a-are you hungry?” If he were human his stomach would have groaned; instead it came from his mouth and she watched as his eyes darkened. Her heart picked up from his reaction and fuck it drove him into a frenzy. His throat was on fire, his mouth was dry as sand and his fangs protruded desperately from his gums ready to feed. She watched with baited curiosity, mixed with caution. Baekhyun looked dangerous, like he could kill and she knew very well he was capable. Yet she was captivated. She unclasped her quivering hands and reached for him and his sharp eyes locked hers in a warning. “Don’t.” She lowered her hand and silently she took a careful  step towards him. Much to Baekhyun’s protest she began to tug at the ties on her dressing gown. Alarm, lust and hunger clawed at him as he watched her reveal her naked form to him, the pristine white dressing gown sliding down her delectable perfect skin, to pool at her feet. His cravings for blood now weren’t the only problems that resided in him. “You never killed me in the past with your hunger… I trust you wouldn’t now…” Her voice was wavering, anxiety gripping her tightly. She stood naked in front of him, feeling the most vulnerable she had ever felt. If he rejected her now, she wouldn’t know how to come back from it. Baekhyun’s mouth trembled as he tried to form words and hold himself to the ground, away from her; where he really wanted to be. “I-I’m a monster.” He gritted out through his teeth. It hit her like a tonne of bricks, the hurt in his voice, the guilt and anger - the need. She couldn’t deny it as much as she could to him, argue but she knew he didn’t have the strength nor the time. As her body flushed and yearned for his touch she needed to convince her vampire lover that she wanted him; that she trusted him and loved him.   And so she took another calculative step towards him, she swore she felt him shiver as her naked body was a whisker away from touching his. “You’re my monster.” She whispered. She could have said anything, anything at all because he was sold the moment she had pressed her breasts against his chest - he wondered if she wickedly did it on purpose. In reality he was in trouble the minute she revealed herself to him so willingly. In a blink she was being kissed, she stumbled with his ferocity but he caught her, his strong fingers clinging to her lower back. Her body sagged with the feeling of his mouth ravaging hers, his lips slanting onto her own, taking her like a starved man. Baekhyun groaned low in his throat and she yelped in hers when felt him nip at her lips. She fisted his shirt as she tasted her metallic blood in her own mouth. His tongue was quick to lap against the inside of her mouth and she sighed at the sensation as he drank her blood from her lips. It ran down the corners of her mouth and Baekhyun was sure to lick the cascades up as the blood travelled further down her chin. He pulled away from her blood soaked mouth and opened his hungry red eyes. She was panting in his arms, her own eyes heavy and clouded with lust as she dared to feel aroused. She was irresistible in that moment. “Shit.” He hissed. Baekhyun smashed his lips back to hers and she moaned wantonly, kissing him back with fervour as he sucked the blood from her swelling lips. His hands gripped her hips and pushed her backwards, trapping her between the table and his growing crotch. His hands were then in her hair, messing up Yixing’s delicate work and pulling. She gasped when he pulled her head back, his lips leaving her own. Her body tingled as Baekhyun ran his tongue greedily down the blood that had dripped down her neck. It was so lewd, the sounds of him licking away his mess but she couldn’t stop the pooling between her legs and the way she wanted more - and more he gave. There was a sharp sting in her neck and then bliss. “Baekhyun…” She sighed. His mouth was on her neck, drinking from her with newfound energy. Blood spilled from her wound and her mind spun with euphoria. She quivered as her blood spilled to her breasts and Baekhyun’s tongue followed the burgundy trails. He let go of her hair and hoisted her up onto the table. He felt sated, his thirst quenched but now with his willing pet shaking in his grasp he was hungry for more. She gasped when his mouth circled her nipple and his teeth and tongue played with the sensitive nub. He gradually pressed her back flat against the tabletop and she squirmed beneath him and he responded by pressing his palm flat to her wet mess between her legs,applying pressure that gave her enough friction to mewl. Her scent had become stronger; created a delicious aroma that made his pants feel unbarably tight. Baekhyun had missed it. He climbed atop of the table and his trousers were left on the floor. She had enough time to draw in a shaky breath that was abruptly pushed from her body as his hot cock filled her sex. Her mouth opened at the swift intrusion and let out a soft hum. Baekhyun groaned blissfully as he realised truly how much he had missed this. “Fuck.” She couldn’t form a coherent reply as he began to rock his hips. He was never delicate and she wasn’t about to start complaining, not when she could feel herself becoming increasingly soaked with each push. He grabbed her legs pushing them up, bending them over his arms as he fucked her on the grand old - expensive - table. Shockwaves rippled through her body and the lewd smacking of her skin on his added to the pleasure soaring through her body. Her head felt heavy from blood loss but it heightened everything she felt Baekhyun doing to her, the way his fingers dug into her supple thighs as he thrusted and rolled his hips to impale her over and over again till she was whining mess. Books fell on the floor and she couldn’t find it in her to care as fire cascaded down her body in electrifying waves. In his misspent centuries he had never felt so deprived and he struggled so hard to hold onto his release. The sight of her bouncing breasts with every purposeful and hard thrust into her, the dried blood that lingered from her mouth to her chest it was sinful and he loved it. Baekhyun grunted and let go of her numb legs, lowering his body closer to hers. She gripped his shirt for her life as her stomach began to coil. He grabbed her hands, pinning them to the hard surface above her head and pressing his forehead to hers. In a moment of dominance he spoke; “Keep your eyes open, or I’ll stop.” She didn’t know but even if she fell asleep there wasn’t anyway Baekhyun could bring himself to stop. She trained her eyes on the fire red eyes that used to frighten her, the eyes she couldn’t bare to look at. Now she felt hypnotised. His forehead on hers, the closeness, it was enticing. He let her pant, mewl and shout as she shattered on the table, her mouth fallen open and her head back as she shook beneath his powerful body. Baekhyun’s knuckles turned white around her wrists as he could feel her orgasm drip down his own thighs, and her walls pulse around him. He captured her lips as he let himself go, spilling his seed inside her hot cavern. “Are you done? You sound -- uh smell? -- look..?! Done so, uhhh--” Baekhyun raised his head and his eyes were narrow as he addressed their intruder - whose timing could never be more impeccable. “What the fuck is it, Chanyeol?” She would have felt humiliated and would have wished for the table to swallow her up if not for her orgasm still numbing her senses. She lay there heaving and with a small sated smile on her face. The bashful tall vampire averted his eyes and cringed. “I just came here to tell you, it’s done, Yuna’s dead.” The mention of her name, the announcement it swiped the smile off her face and she concentrated on Baekhyun. He was silent for a few seconds, and she felt him loosen his grip on her wrists before letting go completely. She pleaded mentally for him to stay. Please don’t retreat. He got off her, leaving her completely bare and cold and anxiety kept her still, along with feeling somewhat delicate and worn. “Is that it?” His question was blunt, it took them by surprise.   She blinked and tried to catch his eye but he was fastening his pants, avoiding her worried eyes. Chanyeol juggled his weight from his left and right leg uncomfortably and swallowed. “Uhh yeah…” Baekhyun dismissed him and when the doors had closed he finally cast his gaze down on the apprehensive girl on still sprawled on the table. She felt her cheeks flush at the way he looked at her, his mouth curled up in a small smug smirk and she felt like an insect under a microscope. He offered his hand to her “Bath?”

[charlottebent-blog]

My Story

Today marks a year since the eating disorder services attempted to section me. It may seem like an odd thing to commemorate. Although the day itself was extremely daunting, it was also a victory in a weird way. So here's my story, the story that led up to the very moment they attempted to detain me.

I'm 19, and I'm the happiest I've ever been (at this point in my life I'm at university in Kent, where I've made some amazing friends plus I'm in my first serious relationship - yes miracles do happen). With it being reading week (one of the many glorious holidays of university) I decide to attend a family gathering. On arrival my Nana hugs me so tightly I can feel my ribs cracking. She then holds me at arm's length before saying 'you look very womanly, look at your curves'. I awkwardly chuckle, before thanking her for what I can only assume she meant as a compliment. At the time I told no one, even now I know she meant no harm by it, however that comment changed everything. I remember almost immediately going to the bathroom, I required some reassurance and I honestly believed the mirror would provide this. It's safe to say I was absolutely horrified. Suddenly I was seeing this different Charlotte. A Charlotte who no longer looked slender but padded. A Charlotte who had thighs and a flabby stomach. And as if this wasn't proof enough, I later discovered the weird marks around my middle were in fact stretch marks.  In fairness it was naive of me to assume my weight would stay the same when I was drinking heavily every other night and living off a diet provided by Iceland. But what terrified me was that others were able to detect this change in me, yet I was oblivious (perhaps something to do with excessive amounts of vodka). I saw this as my wakeup call and made a pact to get healthier.

I stuck to my pact. I took up running again, and, much to my disappointment, stopped scoffing oreo's at 3am. It did the trick, I trimmed down as my Mum called it and I was content. I stayed this way for about a year. Then, during my second year of university, I got  a new job. I was thrilled to say the least and, here is the irony, I became an activity leader at a camp for overweight children. Yes readers, it is here that I developed an interest of food content. Part of the training involved learning how many calories were in my dominoes pizza and how much sugar was in my beloved innocent smoothie. It's safe to say I was disgusted with this new knowledge and suddenly the weight I gained during first year made sense. Having learnt that almost everything delicious was calorific, I began to check food labels using my job as an excuse. Plus, on one occasion I had been caught secretly inhaling a pile of jaffa cakes whilst the children weren't looking and got told I needed to practice what I preached. Despite the energetic and long activity sessions, I denied myself the tasty treats my body craved. And, although my body objected, I felt powerful in being able to ignore the cravings. It was then that I began to weigh myself at work to see if my willpower was paying off. To my delight my weight was decreasing, along with my body fat percentage. The feeling of this was like nothing I had experienced before and the dangerous part is that I never wanted it to end. To ensure that each week I had the same result I had to push myself further. I was content with my diet, therefore the only other method I knew for weight loss was exercise.

I went into my third year of university with a new exercise regime to ensure I stayed trim. I ran every day, giving myself one 'rest' day a week. Rest days made me feel anxious and guilty, therefore they gradually become fewer and fewer until I was exercising daily. I began to refuse myself nights out due to the fear of getting drunk and having a snackaccident (accidental snack) that would sabotage my weight loss. I struggled to explain to others why I couldn't go out so I gave lame excuses. Consequently, I lost a lot of the amazing friends I'd made. I began to recognise that my diet and exercise routine was very rigid and anything that deterred away from it resulted in a panicked frenzy. I developed a knee injury, but despite this I continued to run, with the addition of swimming and knee strengthening exercises, in hope that my knee would heal. When it rained or snowed I ran up and down the hallway of my student house. Yes, it's as nutty as it sounds, but at this point I had no idea I was spiralling into anorexia. I just told myself and my bewildered housemates that I loved running.

People began to comment on my weight loss, but in a more concerned manner than before. I remember sending my sister a photo of me in a new outfit. Thinking I looked toned and healthy, I was surprised when she replied saying I looked disgustingly thin and iller than Victoria Beckham. My boyfriend at the time reassured me that I looked nice. It was that moment that my sister predicted I'd get anorexia. 'Absolute bollocks', both my Mum said, 'people with anorexia just don't eat, whereas you do'. That was always my excuse.

With university soon coming to an end, I felt lost and confused. Friends around me had direction and aspirations, whilst they planned their futures I put off making important decisions, instead occupying myself at the gym, athletics track or swimming pool. Exercise gave me a purpose and sense of control, something I failed to achieve in other aspects of my life. Regardless, I worked hard for my degree but rather frustratingly graduated 1% off a first. I managed to gain a place on a PGCE Primary Education course in Kent and felt obliged to take it. I moved to a different part of Kent and reluctantly started teaching. I enjoyed living with strangers and away from my boyfriend. I was free to organise my time to suit me without judgement from anyone. However, the teaching degree was full-time, and I became increasingly anxious that I was losing valuable exercise time. Even though I would plan lessons and mark work whilst on my exercise bike it didn't feel like enough. The fear of becoming the fat Charlotte once again crept into my mentality more and more. With no other option, I began to restrict food. I studied food labels carefully, checking over and over again in case I'd misread them. I bulked up on vegetables and stopped eating anything remotely high in fat or calories. Whenever the opportunity arose I ran. I had entered a half-marathon, which gave me the excuse to run 10 miles often. I would wake up every night with agonising leg cramps and although I knew I was damaging my body, I couldn't stop. My anxiety around food and exercise became overwhelming. It was here that I ended my first serious relationship. At the time it seemed so easy, I didn't feel sad or heartbroken. Although rather selfishly, I felt relieved, purely because it gave me additional time to focus on exercise.

Despite living 250 miles away from my parents, my stress levels didn't go unnoticed. With my teaching degree becoming increasingly demanding, I was extremely anxious. I couldn't cope with being tested and criticised daily, and consequently I spent a lot of time crying down the phone to my Mum. Having lived away from home for almost 4 years, I was starting to experience the misery of homesickness. It was around this time that I had to significant wakeup call, whilst I was out running. Having ran every single day for the past 3 months, my body was knackered and my legs burnt in protest, however this pain didn't compare to the guilt of having a 'rest' day. I don't remember exactly what happened but suddenly I wasn't running and I crashed to the floor (to my embarrassment right in front of a group of French tourists, who spoke no English and appeared to be more concerned by what they'd purchased from the chocolate cafe than my accident). Everything stung and my inability to stand up panicked me. As I rolled myself onto my back I could see my skin and blood grazed on the pavement. I tried to calm myself with deep breaths, but quickly tears brimmed my eyes and my body began to tremble. I did the only thing I know what to do in a crisis: call my Mum. I clumsily tapped away at my phone, whilst picking myself up. With sore knees and a throbbing hip, I didn't dare check the damage. Typical that usually I can't get my Mum off the phone (usually riveting topics, such as the Council replacing the lampposts with weaker bulbs) yet, when I desperately require her to answer, I get her voice message. I dial my sister who, much to my relief, answers almost immediately and consoles me whilst I gently jog my battered body home.

After this incident my Dad came to Kent to intervene. My parents were growing more concerned about my well-being and encouraged me to see a doctor. Conveniently neither of them were there for the actual appointment. I didn't see much point as I was convinced there was nothing medically wrong with me. However, I reluctantly attended just to get my parents off my back. The doctor was nice enough. She asked me some lifestyle questions, weighed me and then handed me a leaflet on anorexia. 'Your body mass index is within anorexic range. Along with your feelings towards food and exercise I'm diagnosing you with anorexia. I'll put through a referral to the local eating disorder services'. I thought nothing of it at the time, this doctor didn't know me. I eat the same amount of meals as everybody else, plus I don't look like a skeleton. She'd obviously misdiagnosed me. My Mum cried when I called her. Although I didn't agree with the diagnosis I certainly felt like this gave me the excuse I so greatly needed to move back home. I told my parents I would suspend my teaching degree and seek relevant medical help in Manchester.

I was delighted to move back to Manchester. I felt elated and motivated to change my life for the better. However, my freedom was limited due to my parents keeping a watchful eye over me. I was so overly cautious that they were trying to fatten me up that whenever they left the house I went on my exercise bike for as long as time allowed. My food restriction habits also worsened, and although I had been referred to the eating disorder services, I was still losing weight weekly. I acted oblivious to this and continued to spiral further into anorexia. After a couple of months, it was clear I wasn't getting better. I got told my weight was now dangerously low that an inpatient admission was advised. It was a trip to this eating disorder hospital ward that triggered my recovery. Seeing the shells, of these sad, hollow beings frightened me. When I got home I binned my exercise bike and created a food plan with my Mum which I stuck to. I gained weight. I'm not going to say it was easy. It was so incredibly tough and like nothing I had experienced before. However, I was enjoying having a social life again and began working at Waterstones. I even had a fantastic holiday to New York with my sister. I could feel the old Charlotte emerging.

A few months down the line and I was struggling. My discomfort meant I refused to gain anymore weight. I was feeling extremely self-conscious about my body and found myself missing my anorexic tendencies. I longed to feel hunger. I ached for the achievement of exercising. I was at a crossroads and I chose the easier path. My downward spiral into anorexia happened so quickly, I didn't even realise I had relapsed. Within two months, I was being threatened with hospital again, only this time I accepted. I figured hospital was the answer to my recovery, and was admitted onto the Oaktrees Ward.

Hospital was more daunting than I'd remembered it. From the second I stepped foot on the ward I thought 'I'm too fat to be here'. Everybody was so painfully thin it was distressing. A few days into my admission and I learnt that my Grandad had died. I cursed myself for being stuck in hospital unable to comfort my family. To add to my upset the hospital was just outside of Liverpool and therefore 45 miles from my. It didn't take long for the homesickness to kick in. I longed for a hug from my Mum and my dog. The days were never-ending and it felt like all I did was continuously ate. But I followed my Grandad's instructions and I did what I was told when I was told. They were often short staffed, so I didn't receive the support I so greatly needed to cope with the weight gain. When my parents visited I'd cry and beg for them to take me home with them. I had never felt so fat and disgusted in my entire life. Furthermore, being on a ward surrounded by severely anorexic people made me feel like a fraud. After 4 months as an inpatient, I discharged myself against medical guidance.

Once back home I wasted no time in ensuring that I got rid of what I felt was excess weight. I spent my mornings hopelessly crying as I tried on multiple outfits, all of which I deemed too fat to wear. I'd reached such a point of desperation and despair that I attempted to take my own life (and obviously failed). I distanced myself from the services and didn't trust my parents as I felt they lied, repeatedly telling me I looked thin. I threw myself back into work, doing whatever hours I could get. I constantly distracted myself from food, walking my dog and taking up indoor exercise. Furthermore, having spent so much time surrounded by extreme anorexics I had learnt the tricks of the trade. I spent hours eating one meal, cutting it into tiny pieces and claiming I was full, despite my gurgling stomach. I hid food and discretely binned it when my parents weren't about. This time my relapse was severe. I recognised I was poorly, however, just like before, I couldn't stop. One night I ended up at A&E with my Mum, where a doctor told me my heart was wasting away. I still couldn't stop. The services had detected my decline and arranged an appointment which I was forced to attend. They told me I could agree to go back into hospital, or they would request a section and force me. I refused, how could I bring myself to return to the place that mentally worsened me? I cried and shouted and begged, but they went ahead with the section.

13th May 2016 will go down as the most frightening day of my life. I remember pinching myself, convinced it wasn't real. How had my weight gotten so dangerously low that I had to fight to claim my sanity. I didn't feel mentally deluded, surely I was still Charlotte? So there I was, 24 years old, sat in my family home at our kitchen table between my Mum, grasping my hand tightly, and my Dad, on guard, ready to fight for me. In that moment I have never felt so much love and affection towards my parents.  Opposite us sat a panel of medical professionals who had been sent to deem me mentally unstable and detain me. It was daunting to say the least. But we fought and argued for what felt like forever. Eventually, they came to the agreement that if I were to start a refeeding programme immediately and my parents were to take responsibility for my mental well-being, I would be allowed to remain at home. We all sighed with relief and hugged victoriously.

Although I am not always proud of my decisions and often doubt whether I am doing the right thing, I am proud to still be at home. I am proud to still be here and I am proud to still be fighting.

(Apologises for the blog equivalent of War and Peace, congrats if you actually made it to the end!)

[elysianmars]

Top 5 pairs of shoes you've ever owned?

Number one: Dubes.

Listen, there’s a story behind these. Back when I was in the first few years of secondary school, before the economy went to absolute shit, people in Ireland were doing very well for themselves and as a result these beauties became the school shoe du jour. They’re Dubarry Admiral boat shoes and actually violated my school’s shoe uniform code because they have a white sole, but after they became super popular in the private schools in south Dublin the need to have these trickled up north and we all became collectively OBSESSED with wearing them. The only problem was, they cost €100 for a pair. And I’m from a very deprived area and basically nobody could afford them, which at the time was agonising because it really marked you out as being Poor when you couldn’t even afford a knock off pair or whatever.

BUT THEN, miracle of miracles, I won a gift voucher for the only shop in town that stocked actual Dubes in a physics Olympiad heat and was actually able to get a pair for myself. One of the proudest days of my life, I’m not going to lie. I cherished these beauties for just over two full years, and they were so comfortable and also surprisingly effective for walking in the rain (they are boat shoes though, I guess) and I loved them with all of my heart. For a lot of people these shoes are a symbol of everything that was wrong with Ireland in boom times. For me, they honestly just remind me of how good it felt to be able to get something for myself that lent me a little bit of status (and I know that’s dumb, but it has also filtered through to me now, when I buy make up and shit like that). I’d nearly consider buying another pair for the nostalgic value, and I mean I probably would actually wear them…

These are my favourite runners ever and I wear them all the time (like, every day. I wear them to and from work and also during lunch if I go for a walk and at the weekends when I go for a walk and I just adore them). They’re Asics Gel Noosa Tri 11 and they’re even more vibrantly pink that they look in the photo and so deliciously extra and I LOVE THEM. They’re also fit my feet perfectly so they’re super comfortable and I take really good care of them (they look a little gross now because I was walking in muck today [#Ireland] but usually they’re GLEAMING). I love them I love them I LOVE THEM and I won’t hesitate to get another pair when these eventually wear out!

Look, I am a ridiculous person and I like pretty things. I can’t wear heels at all, and have owned these magnificent bastards for about two years now and have never had the occasion to even wear them sitting down and then swap them out for flats any time I need to stand or walk, so they’ve never been worn and they go with none of my clothes, but LOOK AT THEM. I call them my Marie Antoinette shoes! 

I tragically left these in Paris when I moved back to Ireland and haven’t been able to find a replacement pair, but they will forever live on in my heart. I wore these all the time that year! These were a gift for my 20th birthday from my best friend at the time (we don’t speak anymore, so that kind of doubly makes me wish I still had them) and they went with so many of my clothes so I really loved getting to wear them. They actually cut my achilles quite badly the first few times I wore them but once they were broken in, they fit like a glove.

So excuse the weird zoomed in picture of my legs, but I stupidly left these at work so had to improvise and this is the only photo I have where you can see them even kind of clearly! I wear these in work quite a lot, I really like the versatility of black chelsea boots and these ones I’m a fan of because there are zips on both sides and it looks really cool and pretty (sadly I have no pictures of the sides!)