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#for the amount of money they take from us
pastryfication · 2 days
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just saw his new car and this immediately came to me
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“you can relax, love.” lando remarks in almost a snigger as he watches you carefully seat yourself in his new car. his new lamborghini, that probably cost more in just wheels than you make in an entire year.
“yeah, i’m totally relaxed.” your hand delicately touch the smooth leather on the seat while you position your legs as carefully as possible. “not intimidated by this at all.”
he laughs at your antics, giving you a quick kiss before moving over to check that your seatbelt is closed completely so he can start the car. it makes an impressive noice as it sparks to life, and you smile at the feeling of the rumbling car beneath you.
“you know i wouldn’t care if you accidentally left a mark on the car, right?” he watches you from the corner of his eye while also keeping focus on the nonexistent traffic. “you don’t have to sit like you’re in a royal chariot.”
“i don’t—“ you’re about to protest, but as you look down, you realise that maybe—and just maybe—you are sitting like you would in cinderella’s magic pumpkin.
a moment of silence passes between you while you make yourself a bit more comfortable on the pristine leather. “i’m sorry.” you instead opt to say.
“why?” he sounds so earnestly confused that you almost want to smile. “baby, you have absolutely nothing to be sorry for. why are you sorry?” his hand reaches out to grab your thigh, giving it a comforting squeeze.
“it’s just . . . i don’t know why, but i feel weird sometimes, living off your money like this. going to exotic places, eating at fancy restaurants, driving cars like this!” you lift your hand to accentuate your point. “it sounds ridiculous but i just . . . i’ve never experienced anything like this. and i don’t want you to wake up one day and realise how how unfit i am for this lifestyle.”
lando frowns deeply at your admission. “you don’t live off my money. i like bringing you places and spending money on things we can enjoy together.” his hand on your thigh gives another loving pat before he moves to find your hand, intertwining his large fingers with yours. “experiencing all this would be no fun without anyone to share it with.”
you want to argue, but he cuts you off. “no buts. i won’t accept it.” he lifts your conjoined hands to his mouth to give them a gentle kiss before a smirk takes over his face. “now will you please make my car seem used.”
you laugh at him, but he gives you a serious look that doesn’t go away til you pop off your shoes and situate yourself just as you like in the passenger seat. when he’s satisfied, he reaches out for the console in between you and presses a few buttons.
“now, please chose some music. i got an aux system installed just for you.”
you want to turn over and reprimand him, but the cute look on his face makes your heart melt in a weird puddle, and instead, you just smile as you connect your phone.
he’s absolutely crazy. buying lamborghinis, winning formula 1 races, playing an incessant amount of golf and making you fall completely in love with him.
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macgyvermedical · 2 days
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Wound Care For Adults
So the wife was on backpacking reddit and found that a lot of people can't tell the difference between wounds you need some vaseline and a bandaid for, wounds that need a little home TLC, wounds you need to go to an urgent care for, and wounds you actually need to go to the emergency department for, so we're gonna talk about that here.
Wounds that need some vaseline and a bandaid:
A blister that popped
A non-gaping cut
A skinned knee (small amount of fresh, shallow road rash with nothing embedded)
Keep in mind that you should NOT use rubbing alcohol, iodine, mercurochrome, or hydrogen peroxide on any of these. It will just hurt and potentially kill healthy cells in the wound. Neosporin or other antibiotic ointment is okay if you happen to have it, but the antibiotics themselves don't last long and are generally not worth the extra money.
Wash the wound with plain tap water, pat it dry with a clean cloth or piece of gauze, dab on a little petroleum jelly (Vaseline) and slap a bandage on that beby.
Wounds that need some TLC at home:
A small, shallow burn with nothing stuck to it
A slightly infected open blister or non-gaping cut
Slightly infected road rash or shallow road rash with something embedded in it
Cut gaping less than 1/4 inch (1/2 cm)
Small, shallow burn: Right after you get the burn, run it under cool tap water for 5-10 minutes, even if you think it's already cool. This will help clean the wound and stop the burn from getting any deeper. Do not ice. Do not put oil or butter or vaseline on the wound. Use an over the counter burn gel and a bandaid to hold it in place.
Slightly infected small wound/road rash: You'll know it's slightly infected if there's redness and swelling around the edges (up to 2cm), if there is drainage, and if it smells bad. It will also probably hurt more than you think it should. For this you'll want to do hot compresses about 4 times a day for 20 minutes per time until the infection goes away. To do this, get a pot and get water hot enough that it is uncomfortable to touch. Then put a wash cloth in that water, pull it out, wring it out, and hold it against the wound. It should be uncomfortably hot and just a little painful. When it cools down, dip it back in the pot, wring it out, and do it again. At the end of 20 minutes the whole area around the wound should be pink.
Road rash with something embedded: If there's a tiny stone or pieces of visible dirt on this section of road rash, you'll need to clean it with a moderately forceful stream of water. You can do this with an irrigation syringe you can get from the pharmacy, or you can make your own using a plastic zipper bag. Fill a bag with water, then cut a teeny tiny hole in one of the corners. Squeeze the bag to make a stream of water, then direct that stream at the wound. This will take potentially a lot of water. Keep at it until there is nothing visible in the wound, then treat with vaseline and a bandaid.
A cut gaping less than 1/4 inch: If this is on your face, genitals, or hands and you care about scarring, go to an emergency department. If this is on another part of your body and you're okay with a scar, keep reading. Stop bleeding with pressure. Clean the wound by running clean tap water through it and pat the edges dry. Make some butterfly bandages out of strong tape- I recommend silk medical tape, but in a pinch you could use duct tape or similar.
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Starting on one end, tape down one side of a butterfly bandage, pull it across the cut, and tape it to the other side. Move a 1/4 inch down the cut, and tape another one down, then another, until you have taped the length of the cut. Put some kind of breathable bandage on top of this.
Wounds that need to go to an urgent care:
Cut gaping more than 1/4 inch but that you can still stop bleeding with pressure.
Open blister, cut, burn, or road rash that is draining thick, yellow-or-white drainage and is not getting better with hot compresses, but you don't have a fever
Stop any bleeding, clean by running water over the injury, and go to an urgent care or your family doctor if you happen to be able to get in for a same-day appointment.
Wounds that need to go to an emergency department:
Any cut that gapes on the face, palm of the hand, or genitals
Infection with streaks or with which you have a fever/chills, or for which the red area grows by more than a cm in an hour
Burn larger than the palm of your hand or that is more than skin deep
Any wound that was spurting blood or that needed a tourniquet to stop bleeding
Go to the emergency department as soon as possible, they'll take care of it.
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jinnie-ret · 2 days
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cover me
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poly!stray kids x fem reader
genre: angst, fluff at the end
content warnings: stress from uni/work
word count: 1.5k
summary: money, work, school. it was only a matter of time before the boys would see her crumble, and be there to pick up the pieces
requested: @straykidsnerd255
1K FOLLOWERS PLAYLIST 💚🖤
MAIN MASTERLIST
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Every time she tried to take one step forward, something would ultimately knock her back twice as far. Finally having a very generously paid job as an intern at a big company was serving her well, yet with the return of going back to university, finding a work-school balance was becoming difficult.
Truly, that was the hardest thing. She had great people around her, those being her uni friends or her loving boyfriends, the renowned Kpop band, Stray Kids. The way they cared for her and each other with such strong morals and support meant that surely it would be easy to confide in them.
Not always, especially in this case.
Other times she would be thankful for the fact that her partners all had a longer practice at the company, not to their own detriment of course, but because it gave her more time to get herself together and paint on a calm picture of 'I'm definitely not struggling right now and on the brink of my second breakdown of the day'.
However, this time she really needed them. The stress had amounted to such a level that she felt it right through to her bones, and so she found herself crying over the smallest things, which in turn let out the release of her biggest pain.
"Stupid shoes, why aren't they organised, there's too many," she sniffled, sat on her knees by the front door as she began to cry at shoes. Yes, shoes. Her boyfriends' shoes to be specific. She would have thought at least Seungmin would have berated the others for their lack of organisation at this point but even his were out of place.
"They didn't even match them back up," she cried, and more tears spilled out, "oh, why am I even crying right now?"
Sometimes being in such a state meant that it was hard to understand your own feelings, your thoughts far too occupied with the wants of other people to be able to manage the basic needs of your own.
Eventually she gave up on the shoes and wiped her tears, walking slowly over to the sofa and letting her body fall into it with a soft thump. She tugged a soft velvety blanket over herself, one that Felix probably picked out due to it's plush exterior, and instinctively cocooned herself. Her heart felt heavy, her eyes hot and burning as the tears kept falling. All it took was a reminder on her phone for a work assignment, and a uni assignment, to trigger a sob to catch her throat.
"Too much," she sobbed to herself, trying to muffle the sounds even though there was no one else to hear them, "it's too much."
She was wrong. Not about her feelings, gosh, no, but the fact that she thought she was alone.
"Hey, hey, what's going on?" Hyunjin was crouched down right in front of her trembling form, almost hidden if it wasn't for the blanketed lump that had been shaking so much it couldn't have been natural.
His hand brushed her hair back and his thumb rubbed under her eyes, catching the tears that seemed to keep appearing. Hyunjin watched on in deep concern, just like their other boyfriends did the more they realised something was wrong.
"What? When, when did you get back?" she gulped down her sobs, or attempted to, even though her words still came out messily. She sat up, the blanket falling off her shoulders and resting around her hips.
"Don't worry about that, love. Just tell us what's going on, yeah? What's wrong?" Chan held her against him immediately, taking a seat ñext to her. The only time his arm that was wrapped around her moved away, was to let Jeongin lift the blanket back up to keep her warm.
"I don't know," she sniffed indignantly, coughing lightly through her cries when she tried to clear her throat. Her arm pressed against the lower half of her face.
"You're getting yourself in a state now, come on, move your arm, you know you don't have to hold back in front of us," Seungmin sighed sadly, seeing his girlfriend so stressed. He pulled her arm towards her lap which he was sat in front of, holding her hand with one of his own and the other rubbing her knee.
"Thanks," she said sarcastically at first, until hearing the rest of what he had to say and tilting her head up to the ceiling to blink away the rest of her tears.
Chan pressed a kiss against her forehead, and everyone was around her to offer comfort, Felix and Changbin in particular wanting to jump out of their seats on the adjacent sofa to take all the pain away.
"What's got you to upset, jagi?" Jisung pouted, his own eyes glistening as he saw how upset you were.
"It's stupid, really," she began, rubbing at her eyes roughly, Hyunjin subsequently tutting at her and pulling her other hand away that Seungmin wasn't occupying.
"We're not doing that, jagi," Minho shook his head, brows furrowed, looking down at the floor with his hands folded together, "if it's upset you, it's not stupid."
"Exactly, please just tell us, you know we just want to help, that's all," Felix quickly pitched in, face crumpled sadly much like your own.
"There's just too much going on really. You know? Like, oh-" she had to cut herself off when her voice cracked with emotion again.
"You're ok, take your time," Jeongin gave a small smile and nod to reassure her.
"We're listening, baby," Changbin's raspy voice rung out.
"I've got a good job right? Like, it pays so well, but now with going back to uni it's just like I don't have time for anything. I-i'm having to squeeze in hours where I don't have them because my boss won't help me work around my timetable," she explained, the clashing of two parts of her life and time issues being what was clearly causing so much turmoil.
"I'm sorry, darling," Chan tugged her closer to him, a frown on his face.
"Don't be sorry, not your fault, is it? I'm just so tired, I'm exhausted," she admitted, pressing her lips together and taking a deep breath in order to not cry again.
"We'll help you figure this out, ok?" Hyunjin leant his head against her shoulder.
"Ok, ok," she let out a deep breath and nodded.
"I think you need to focus on uni, love. If work can't meet you in the middle then, it's hard," Seungmin trailed off, not wanting to fully leave her in the dark but not wanting to be too blunt.
"What do you think, jagi?" Jisung wondered, curled up against Minho, one leg hanging over the older's lap.
"I don't know. I don't even wanna make any decisions right now," she shook her head tiredly, blinking a couple times.
"That's understandable, baby, how about we just relax for now, ok?" Changbin suggested.
"And if anything else is upsetting you, please tell us," Chan huffed with a knowing smile.
"Ok, promise," she grinned.
₊˚⊹♡
She must have fallen asleep without realising, as she found herself waking up to Jeongin and Felix giggling over something on the latter's phone.
"What's going on?" she murmured tiredly, pressing her face deeper into... Jisung's chest, it took one whiff of his cologne to be able to tell it was him.
"Had a good sleep then, hmm?" Minho poked her forehead, slow blinking at her.
"Mm, yeah," she nodded, "Lixie, Innie, what's funny?"
The two froze, looking at her a bit guiltily.
"Well, umm, you know we have that camera in the hallway, just in case for security, like if someone broke in or-" Jeongin began to ramble awkwardly,
"I know, yeah," she nods, adjusting her head against Jisung's chest as he loosely keeps an arm around her, securing her to him.
"We're actually sorry for laughing, babe, it's just... You were crying over our shoes earlier?" Felix can't even keep eye contact as he explains.
Jisung stifles a laugh and so she slaps his chest playfully through her mild embarrassment, making him yell out dramatically.
"What's Sungie done now?" Hyunjin asks as he flops onto the sofa, entering the room again after leaving Chan, Seungmin and Changbin to managing the cooking.
"It's more about what our jagi did," Minho teases, looking at her with a smug grin.
"Guys, I was stressed, leave me aloneeee," she huffed, but it didn't stop the light laughter that filled the room knowing that she wasn't completely upset about it.
"Sorry, but..." Jeongin chuckles again, "the way you throw the shoes away from you is so funny!"
"What did our shoes do to you?!" Felix laughed again as he watched the video on replay.
"They smelt bad," she grinned happily, teasing them back as revenge, "specifically Ji's."
"Yah!"
Jisung gave her a noogie, keeping her trapped in his arms. He couldn't let her discredit him like that.
"Sorry! Sorry! Hahaha!"
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listeners: @skz-streamer @kiraisastay @kpopmenace143 @haodore @arloo00 @dunno-wut-to-do @splat00z @his-angell @2minstan @skzoologist @lovingchan @atinyniki @writingforstraykids @minholing @lilmisssona @astraysimp @lixie-phoria @theo4eve @linoalwaysknows @royal-shinigami @jolly04 @turtledove824 @yangbbokari @thisrandomgoofy15 @lieslab @hannamoon143 @arumlilyeclipse
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thedailydescent · 2 days
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Every day I come onto this site and try to think of a better, more convincing method of trying to get people to donate to stagnating fundraisers.
I am very disappointed that Hashim & Laila's, Mohammed Eid Matar's, and Yahya's fundraisers have barely budged over the past week, despite the regular updates they and the people promoting them have been giving.
Mohammed (@mohammedmatat) desperately needs a new tent for his family for the upcoming winter. We have already heard stories about heavy rain this week, which the average tent provides little protection for. Farah (@/farahmoo2), for example, has told us that her family's tent got flooded this week, and needed to be rebuilt. A tent in Gaza costs anywhere between $200-$1000 depending on the quality (not including bedding or a toilet), and building one isn't that much cheaper than a ready-made one. I was hoping to get Mohammed's fundraiser to at least the 2k mark by the end of the week, yet we're still at €1,350. Mohammed is only 23, and has two young siblings to take care of, who not only have been injured over the past year, are now, if they do not get access to safe shelter by the time the winter chill sets in, at risk of getting sick. (don't forget that there has been an outbreak of polio in Gaza as well, and they've only recently started the first rounds of vaccinations for children under 10).
Hashim & Laila (@hashimsafadi) are also at an abysmally low amount, still at €1,362 despite the fundraiser being up since Apr 23. Without jobs, how can two people live off of €1,362 for five months? How can you live off of that, put up with being displaced several times, living constantly under threat of being killed in unsafe areas? Being exposed to massive heat waves, suffering "contamination, intestinal infections, skin rashes, jaundice, and infections of the joints, bones, and teeth"? You can't.
Hashim & Laila will also be needing a safe and sanitary environment to live in for the upcoming winter! Please help them out.
And finally, Yahya Bkheet. Yahya has been tirelessly working to get his family, including three children under 10, out of Gaza. They were given until Aug 23 to raise €30k so they could all evacuate together, yet they didn't even make it to the 5k mark. That hasn't stopped Yahya from continuing to try. He has posted an update today of his situation: his mother needs treatment for her heart disease and diabetes, they need at least $200 to fix up the tent for the upcoming winter, his child Anas has contracted a skin disease from the polluted water, and his other child Mira has the flu and needs money for medicine.
They have only raised €5 today! They deserve better than this. Please help this family out.
Living conditions will not be the only thing for these three families to worry about for the upcoming winter. There's also the question of food. A few days ago, it was reported that Israel’s siege now blocks 83% of food aid reaching Gaza. That means 83% of required food aid will not make it into Gaza, up from the 34% that did not make it in 2023. That means the average Gazan eating two meals day will now drop to just one meal every other day. This makes the recent post @/omgthatdress made yesterday telling everyone to report people who send fundraiser asks, and just donate to aid organizations instead, that much more harmful. Guys, there's hardly any aid coming in! From July-September 2024, fresh meat prices have increased by 366%, and fresh fruit 228%. Please give Gazans a chance and donate to vetted fundraisers if you can, so they can at least buy their own groceries. When the cold weather sets in, people naturally become hungrier. Children cannot survive off of one meal every other day. A couple, whose dream is to go back to school and start a family of their own, cannot survive off of one meal every other day.
In other news, there has also been an update from the Mona Abu Hamda Team, who run a mutual aid fund which provides essential supplies such as blankets, food, flour, charcoal for cooking, sanitary products, and financial aid for necessities such as baby milk. There has apparently been a decrease in donations, and they are currently sitting at €75,639 of their €100,000 target. Please also consider donating to them to help Gazans out this winter.
Tagging for further reach (sorry if I've already tagged you today. I am a tiny blog and my posts only get traction if I tag):
@neptunerings @victoriawhimsey @captainsaltymuyfancy @maester-cressen @buttercuparry
@lesbianmaxevans @ana-bananya @magnus-rhymes-with-swagness @just-browsings-world
@danlous @underthejollyroger @lesbianboyfriend @weirdmarioenemies @teabisexual
@robotpussy @khanger @brutaliakhoa @cluelessbot @appsa
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ghostykapi · 1 day
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three against me (the trio's love)
misamo & fem!reader // college au
thank you for @cry4mina for the misamo pictures and for being delulu with me about misamo <3 MISAMOOO
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when you said you wanted your college life to be eventful
you didn't expect the universe throwing you three girlfriends, each with their own side of how they got you locked with them
it starts during the first semester of your 3rd year, when you were in a small cafe, getting to a headstart in your pile of homework
it's perfect, a iced coffee by your side, three readings beside you, your laptop on the coffee table in front of you and phone silenced, muting whatever the onslaught of messages nayeon is sending that you can't even be bothered to check
you needed this, you couldn't handled anymore 'dubchaeng babysitting!' when the duo would just make your head hurt with the amount of crazy ideas they had. the change of pace for the day is much welcome, especially knowing that jeongyeon took over with the lure of seeing a band a cafe next university over
it's nice, you can feel like you are in control for even just for a bit
then the cafe's noise dies down when the door chimes
it's too silent
fuck.
you brace yourself at the trio, who’s presence can make the entire student populous go on their knees. the mere whisper of their little group brings the entire college either trembling
misamo.
you can feel her gaze land on you, despite the only indication that it is one of them without looking is the whispers within the cafe. even the baristas know them
hirai momo. softball player, the star athlete that brings medals and more recognition to your university. average grades, stellar performance when she steps on the field and can land a nasty punch
with each step you hear her take, the more you have to remind yourself not to look. you can hear her giggles and the way your heartbeat is now in your ears
minatozaki sana. influencer and model, the unspoken leader of their group. through her bubbly and charming personality, she uses her wit to become the face of the university. part of the top 10% of the whole university, the inspiration to study hard and diligently
you feel a hand on your shoulder, the firm grasp rendering you unable to move, yet it's how you know who it is. she hums in delight at your sharp intake of breath, knowing that you don't need anything else to tell her apart
myoui mina. rising entrepreneur of 3 different business ventures, the deadliest one from the trio. always calculating, always 10 steps ahead of her peers and competitors. sweet, kind, and demur, she brings class to whatever she does
that includes sitting beside you, her bag gently landing on the table, your proximity leaves the others questioning your relationship, but all you know is that you must have done something at your shared class with her yesterday for her too approach you
"i hope you don't mind" she starts, eyes confident and you want to scream and cry because she's wearing a suit. typically worn when she's fresh from visiting one of her businesses. "i heard you were well versed in code"
"programming is my major yes" you keep your voice leveled, after all, being a woman in such a male dominated course has made you what your flock of admirers say, freezingly cold.
"i have a proposition for you" mina starts, keeping a dangerous game of who can keep the eye contact going "you help me with homeworks and projects while i give you money per assessment made"
while mina has a fair share of students that matched her energy, something in your gaze makes her crack a bit
"what makes you think i'll say yes?"
"you can't say no to me"
"yes i can. here watch i'll say it"
and mina can't deny it when she feels her heart start to race when you get closer to her. faces barely a few inches apart
"i don't do things for money. so no"
and you pull back, ready to put back to attention to your homework when mina speaks up
"every time you have to help me i'll pay you in food"
oh goodness free food
"ok i'm in" you hum, hands typing away on your laptop "we start in two days, send me an address and i'll met you there myoui. now shoo, i have to catch up to my work"
she stares at you with a blank gaze, but inside she's dumbfounded at your boldness
nevertheless, she stands up to leave you be, but before she's out of earshot, she says something you don't quite catch
"what?" you ask
"you should call me mina. myoui is too professional even for my taste dear"
three days later, it's momo who bugs you after your morning class
she slips up right beside you, the lack of dress code in the university gives momo a chance to wear a body hugging pink dress, something that makes everyone go crazy. what you don't like is how every guy is looking at her in ways you want to pluck their eyes out
filthy bastards don't deserve to gaze at her at all
"momo" your ears are red because everyone can clearly see you both in the halls, her arm around your waist as you slowly walk to the next building for your next class "what are you doing?"
"accompanying you to class" momo won't admit it, but ever since mina said you were, in her words, 'pretty and sufficient', she had to see you
"why?" you ask, glaring at every man who's looking at her too creepily, making them scurry away
"just because, plus our classrooms are right beside each other" she relaxes more with each less man in the hall, you notice it
"fine" you huff, and before she can even say anything else, you remove your jacket, giving it to her "wear this for today, i don't want any man to look at you. you're too gorgeous for them"
the rest of the walk is silent on the way to both of your classrooms. only thing you can hear is the squeak of every sneaker from each man running way and the whispers in between students
it's the most peaceful walk momo has had since becoming star athlete
so when you wave at her from the door before disappearing to go to the classroom beside her's, she feels like she can breath without panicking
she hates taking anything math related, but she might bare it more when she knows your beside her classroom
she's hooked
later that afternoon, while you lounge around the student council office sipping a red bull, someone barges in, scaring your team who's having a heated debate on who should the rest of the papers
"fucking jesus who the fuck-" ryujin is silenced from who she sees at the door
minatozaki sana, the ever persistent and one of the most notable member under the team of the president.
"someone sent you flowers?"
not a question you were expecting, even your team is gawking at her
dressed to perfection, you can't catch her in a regular outfit at any point, which is kind of ridiculous. sana doesn't care, always styled like she's going to a fashion week in europe. today she's wearing that white dress that she just wore in her feature in some magazine
what is it with the trio and wearing designer clothing every time they are at university grounds? specifically when they are within your eyesight
"pardon?" you know the amount of admires that still try despite cold rejection, even hailing from different courses. hell you think someone from the university over sent you chocolates once, you gave it to your team though
"did you accept some stupid boy's flowers?" sana repeats, anger in her eyes, an emotion she barely shows, and possessiveness in her body language, something you see glimpses of when someone gets close to mina and momo that she doesn't approve of
"minatozaki you know i don't do that" you say calmly, your team in awe at how you keep a calm attitude "if the suitor doesn't have the guts to face me, then they do not deserve my limited time"
"then you'll entertain if i do right?"
you can hear felix and lily choke over their pizza behind you
"you are not serious" you look at her like she's crazy (she loves being called that, you learn from mina later on)
she gets closer to you, faces barely an inch apart, any slip up from her leaning way to closer over your table and she can just kiss you
"try me, i'll see you at tomorrow's meeting miss vice-president"
when she leaves the office, it takes you and your team a total of 5 minutes to recover
"jesus what the fuck was that"
"ryujin shut up, go back to bickering with lia"
no one has ever said no to the trio
maybe a few people had
they're just not as pretty, charming and confident as you
maybe that's why mina keeps sitting beside you during your shared programming class even oustide 'tutor' hours, why momo's insistent at being beside you in between periods to carry your items on days your classes line up, and why sana shows up in every weekly meeting with an expensive gift or a trinket, challenging each suitor head on.
women like them are gonna be the death of you
"you have some crazy women that like you" jihyo jests beside you, giggling at how sana is glaring daggers at how close you both are. you both are now taking a break along with the rest of the internal team to finalize some papers
"yeah well" you don't like to admit it, but ever since their persistence to always either be near you, you have been starting to crack bit by bit "can't really escape them y'know"
"i think you would look cute with them" jihyo hums, swinging her pen between her fingers, making someone across the table keep her stare at the president "misamo and their girlfriend who sucks ass at karaoke"
"ok that was one time" you huff, jihyo's snickering makes sana look up from her phone, jaw tensing up at how close jihyo is "clearly i let you win because you liked it when tzuyu said she's treat you out if you win right?"
that shuts her up. the said tall woman is at the other side of the room, watching the president's face get red, wondering what you just said to make her like this
"get back to work" jihyo then shoos you away, your laughter making jihyo flip you off before returning to work for herself
before you cam even return to work, your eyes meet sana's, her expression unreadable. you wonder what she's thinking of
you look away, a light blush on your cheeks from her intense stare, busying yourself once more with the papers
to sana, witnessing your smile and laughter rewires her brain, heart pleading with her to speed up whatever this stage the three of them are in. each day that passes drives the three of them crazy
mina is messing up in her calculations, momo is missing her shots and sana is losing her composure on the daily
she needs you. they need you.
when sana heads home that night she keeps thinking about you. even when she lets her girlfriends debate what their late night dinner should be (mina wants tacos, momo is craving for some pasta). she blurts out in the middle of it
"do you think y/n would say yes if we offered her sushi as a late night dinner?"
the two stop at their bickering to look at sana, who's eyes are begging for the next move. she's getting itchy and desperate to make it
"satang" mina reaches out to her, letting sana wrap her arms around her waist as momo hugs them both "did something happen?"
"it's just" sana doesn't even try to hide it at this point, knowing that the three of them are nearing their breaking point "i saw her laugh today and it really made me think that 'i want to make her laugh with us' and i-i don't know but it has been driving me mad"
mina hums in understanding and momo speaks up, ready to take that push
"then let's go"
staying late even after meetings is normal for you to catch up with the papers, but for the past few days, you have been staying late in the office to busy your thoughts
mina hasn't been looking at you in the eye or been acknowledging you
momo hasn't been accompanying you to class
sana hasn't shown up to a single meeting this past two weeks
trying to silence your head, you decided to throw yourself into your extra curriculars every night. this night, you are working alone, the only sounds that you can hear are your aggressive typing on your poor keyboard, the music coming from your small speaker and the voices in your head making your heart ache
and now a knock and the door swinging open
"if you have any concerns please drop them by our social media accounts, email, or even the drop box by the-"
you stop your next words when you look up
mina.
you want to curse at the woman, for deliberately avoiding you. it was worse with her, because at least with the two you didn't have the urge to scream because they simply did not show up.
momo.
even clad in that handsome suit, she's still wearing that jacket you handed over to her. devastatingly handsome and gorgeous, you wonder why did she have to leave you wondering in the noisy university halls
sana.
meetings are still the same, but jihyo keeps on asking why your eyes have been straying, always going back to the door. waiting for that laugh to annoy you, waiting for a snarky remark to any stupid men flirting with you, waiting for anything from her
you really want to throw a chair at them for just showing up now and pissing you off
you don't though, because you missed them
each in their own suit, each with their own gift, each one with a nervous smile that no one will ever see, each one wearing their hearts up their sleeves, and each with the same question you didn't know you wanted to hear until now
"we like you. would you like to go out with us? dinner tomorrow night, our treat"
you can't say no
"you guys are horrible at courting. pick me up at 7"
bonus:
in every first date you've been on, you never come over to your dates home. that changes and ends with them
"hirai" you're trying to keep your breath stable as her hands are playing your hair. eyes hazy, but clearly on you, her self control out the door, just like yours
"myoui" she's behind you, her hands on your waist, murmuring what she's been thinking about for the past days. it's all you, and it makes you melt
"minatozaki" you let her kiss you, silencing your worries and doubts, silencing anything that makes you question them. the heart finally getting what it wants
"you my love, deserve to be ours"
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bpmiranda · 3 days
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The Bodyguard |l. howlett|
A/N: slow burn, friends to lovers, 1970s, bodyguard!logan x original character, organized crime, violence, drug use, brief mention of underage drinking, suggestive content
When Logan Howlett first began working with the Vasquez cartel, he was Emilio’s bodyguard. They were aware of Logan’s mutation, sought him out for that reason specifically. Logan figured if he didn’t need to hide while under the employment of the cartel, if he could make an ungodly amount of money, then what could the harm be to stick around in Tijuana a little while longer. The harm became obvious to him very quickly in the form of a sweet, yet smart mouthed little sister named Mercedes. The young Vasquez was dark-haired with darker eyes that seemed to be deep enough to drown in, a kind smile always adorning her pretty face, her wits sharp despite her age which wasn’t unusual seeing as she grew up around cartel men. Logan didn’t see her often, not much at all seeing as he had to stick with Emilio at all times of the day and night, but big brother adored his little sister and it wasn’t unusual for her to ride around with them from time to time.
That was how Logan learned that as sweet as Mercedes was, she was also incredibly irritating. Once she found out Logan was nearly a century old, she was always pestering him any time they were in the same vicinity. There was something about showing off her intelligence that she seemed to get off on and Logan was always left wondering what the hell he was doing when all these historic events were happening in real time around him. “I was fighting in wars, kid.” Logan muttered, not having an answer for her question about the first Olympic games. “I wasn’t exactly traveling for pleasure.” He told her as he glanced at her in the rearview mirror while Emilio chuckled in the passenger seat.
Mercedes couldn’t help herself. “1896, Athens.” She answered her own question and Emilio shot her a tired look.
“Is she always like this?” Logan asked him.
“Siempre, compadre,” (Always, pal.) Emilio said while the young Vasquez simply sat quietly with a triumphant smirk on her face that irritated Logan. “You get off here, hermanita.” (little sister) Emilio said they came to a stop in front of their father’s home which was always gated, always guarded. “Tell Pa Logan and I are dealing with the problem in Portezuelos.”
Mercedes gave her brother an interested look as she held onto Logan’s open window, peering past the bodyguard who was trying not to smell the scent of her hair, but failing. “Que problema?” (What problem?) She asked curiously and Emilio shook his head. “Dime!” (Tell me!) She pleaded and Emilio gave her a stern look.
“Go.”
With an eye roll, she took a step back and her eyes fell on Logan who realized he was staring at her. “Take care of him?” She asked, motioning briefly at her brother and Logan smirked.
“It’s my job, sweetheart.” He said and she beamed at him before turning and walking past the guards that let her past the gates into her father’s home.
The problem in Portezuelos was that one of the runners they used to move weight had stashed a great deal of product with the intention of selling it to a rival cartel. The problem had to be taken care of in a permanent way, that’s when Logan came in. Emilio and Logan dragged him out of his home, took him out to the desert because no one would ask questions when a body appeared with slashes like those of coyotes out there. It came in handy to dispose of people this way rather than with bullets, it flew under the radar as an animal attack. The man was dying, gurgling on his blood as Logan lit a cigar a few feet away while Emilio talked to him, told him there was a way to have avoided all of this. The dying man’s eyes fell on Logan suddenly and they stared at each other for a moment before he struggled to spit out through his own blood the words, “Mas sabe el diablo por viejo que por diablo.”
The ride back was quiet and Logan couldn’t stop thinking about those words, running them through his head the whole drive. Emilio could tell and he suddenly asked, “Are you a religious man?” Logan looked over at the man beside him for a moment, his eyes falling on the diamond encrusted crucifix around his neck and Emilio chuckled. “I won’t be offended.” Logan smirked and shook his head as he turned his eyes back to the road, pulling up and parking in front of the Vasquez home.
“Nah, not really.” He said.
Emilio clapped his shoulder softly and Logan looked at him. “Then you have nothing to worry about, amigo.” He said before getting out of the car and then peering in at him through the window. “Come inside, have a drink. My father wants to speak to you.”
When they walked into the mansion, Emilio told him to wait outside the study. Logan sat in a leather chair with a glass of whiskey and he waited, listening to the conversation behind the thick oak door as clearly as if it were being had out here in the drawing room though he didn’t understand too much. A familiar flowery scent began to invade his nose and he looked up to see Mercedes coming down the stairs, her face lit up at the sight of him and it made him feel, well, good. “Logan,” She greeted, bounding over to him in her school uniform. “You’re back. Is Emilio here?”
Logan made a gesture to the closed study with his glass. “Told you I’d take care of him, didn’t I?” Mercedes smiled as she nodded and sat in the chair across from him, crossing her leg over the other as she folded her hands over her knee. His eyes fell on the glint that came from her chest and he noticed a crucifix around her neck, more dainty and simple than Emilio’s large, bulky pendant. “You religious?” He asked her and she nodded immediately.
“Catholic.” She answered.
“Catholics believe in the devil, right?” He asked and she couldn’t help the curious tilt in her head. “Can you translate something for me? Without laughing at my Spanish?” He added quickly and she was unable to hide a smirk, but she nodded. “Mas sabe el diablo por viejo que por diablo.”
Mercedes translated his broken Spanish quietly, closing her eyes as she listened to the words in her head until they made sense. Logan watched her full lips move as she repeated the phrase a few times. “The devil knows more from being old than from being the devil.” She said, her eyes opening and falling back onto the man sitting across from her. His jaw tightened and she figured that he had heard that out there today as it was no doubt in reference to his age, the ungodly amount of time he has spent on this Earth. “Who said that to you?” She asked with concern etched onto her face and Logan shook his head.
“It doesn’t matter who said it - he’s dead anyway.” Logan finished his whiskey and set the empty glass on the side table next to him. “Does it mean anything?”
“It’s just an old saying,” Mercedes shrugged and he gave her a nod that told her to continue. With a small sigh, she did. “You know that Lucifer was originally an angel, right?” Logan nodded, watching her as she didn’t seem to be shaken up having to talk about the devil as he assumed most religious people lived in fantasy worlds where everything was always good. It made him wonder if her faith truly brought her a sense of safety and comfort. “Well, some people might say that he is evil by nature, that he was born that way, you know? Others might say he became wicked simply because he’s been alive for so long.”
“What do you believe?” He asked her and she only shrugged, unaffected by the concept of evil. “You aren’t scared of the devil?” Mercedes shook her head more firmly. “Why?”
“I’m more scared of letting fear control my life.” Logan thought about her words for a moment, and he was about to ask her how she could feel so safe in a place like this, surrounded by people like her brother when the study door suddenly opened and they both turned to see Emilio coming out.
His eyes found Mercedes and he clicked his tongue while shaking his head. “You’re supposed to be asleep.” He told his sister who greeted him with a hug. “My father’s ready for you, Logan.” Emilio said as he led Mercedes out of the study while Logan stood up and made his way towards the office, but not before she suddenly grabbed his arm and turned him back to look down at her.
With her eyes on his, she unclasped her necklace and he quickly shook his head. “I have more, take it,” She insisted and Logan bent forward to let her place the chain around his neck. His hand involuntarily came to rest on her waist to balance her as she stood on her toes while she fixed the clasp securely and then she took a step back, beaming at him as he touched the crucifix. “Just in case.”
Logan chuckled, twisting the pendant between two fingers a few times before dropping his hand and nodding at her. “Thanks, sweetheart.”
Their father paid Logan, thanked him for helping them out with their problem, and when he noticed his daughter’s necklace around his neck, he gave Logan a warning that she wasn’t to be touched, much less hurt, by anyone. Logan agreed, not saying anything more about their situation because there wasn’t one. Mercedes was only sixteen, Logan was a much smarter man than to let himself get hung up on some kid.
Five Years Later…
With the smoke wafting around her, the haze and the strobe lights made her appear to be a dream clad in a sparkly sleeveless, black dress and a pair of knee high white boots as she danced in the middle of the floor. Her hips rolled in rhythm to the music against her girlfriends, the joint in her fingers coming back to her lips. Logan had seen plenty of twenty-one year old girls go wild for their birthday, and when the cartel threw a party, they sure went all out. The club had been closed for the night of celebration, and even though it was only for friends and family, it was still packed. Logan had come to know most everyone here pretty well in the last five years since being hired as the bodyguard for a then still underground drug dealer. Big brother had made it big time and as he climbed the cartel ladder, so did the price for his head and anyone in his family, that included his sister. With the promotion, Logan went from being his bodyguard to hers.
After two years of guarding him, Logan was hesitant to take on the task of guarding her as he became so used to Emilio’s routine. Fortunately, Mercedes was easy to care for as she was not necessarily reckless or difficult to handle. The girl had a good head on her shoulders and she understood she wasn’t just any normal person, there had to be precautions. Even tonight when she was letting loose, she understood that she couldn’t be anywhere out of Logan’s eyeline. Much like the other nights before this one because no one was going to tell her that she couldn’t drink before being of legal age to do so. No one in Tijuana said ‘no’ to a Vasquez.
It wasn’t long before the weed she was smoking dried her mouth out and she came back over to him where he was sitting at the corner of the bar, watching her. “Can I get a-um-what was I drinking, Lo?” She slurred, grinning up at him drunkenly, unaware of her hand resting on his thigh.
“I think you should drink some water, sugar.” He said, turning to face her, slyly looking her up and down. How’d she get so grown up so quickly? He thought to himself.
Her bottom lip jutted out subtly and she slid her hand up his thigh a little further. “Come on, Logan, it’s my birthday.” She said in a soft, pleading tone.
Logan only shook his head, not able to keep the smirk off his face as he ordered her drink, “Another vodka cranberry.”
“Si!” She exclaimed happily while pointing at the bartender. “And get him another beer, cause he’s doing such a great job.” Her lips pressed to his cheek as she caught him around the neck with her arm and then she took her beverage back to the dance floor, leaving her joint in the ashtray he was using for his cigar.
“Drunk ass girl.” Logan chuckled, shaking his head as he took the new beer with a nod at the bartender.
At the end of the night, Logan drove her back to her apartment. After having grown accustomed to the privacy and simplicity of a college dorm, she didn’t want to continue living in her father’s home. Regardless, Mercedes lived in the nicer part of town, but it was still his job to make sure she got in safely, so he always walked her into the building. Sure, partly for safety, but tonight she was stumbling and refused to take her heeled boots off, even in this state when she could hardly stand in them.
“Esta sucio el piso, Logan.” (The ground is dirty, Logan) “I’m-I’m not walking barefooted.” She slurred, leaning into him until it was simply easier for him to carry her bridal style. “Oh, this is nice.” She sighed and she relaxed in his arms, her heavy head falling onto his chest as he easily carried her up the stairs of her building. Logan only smirked as he set her down in front of her door.
Mercedes fumbled around in her clutch, searching for her key, and then gave up as she handed the purse to him instead. Logan laughed, taking her key out of her purse and unlocking the door. “You are real wasted, sweetheart.”
Her index finger came up to her lips as if it were a secret and she stumbled through the door when she opened it. “I had a great birthday, Logan.” She smiled sweetly at him, kissing the pads of her fingers and then pressing them to his lips. “Thanks!” She called behind her and Logan watched as she left the door wide open while she fell in exhaustion onto her couch.
With a sigh, he rubbed his face, looked up and down the hall before walking into the apartment and closing the door behind him. “C’mon, let’s get you into bed.” He said, walking over to where she had begun to nestle into the couch.
“You can’t-no-it’s messy, don’t look in there.” She stammered sleepily as he ignored her and picked her up again to carry her to the bedroom.
It was messy. There were clothes everywhere as well as shopping bags, unopened gift boxes, and it reeked of weed. Her shoes were splayed out on the floor in a haphazard line around her bed. It was odd to Logan only because, in the few years that he had known her, she was actually quite neat and organized. This didn’t feel like her at all. “Your brother know you’ve got a shopping addiction?” He asked as he laid her in her bed.
Her dress rode up a little as she curled into herself and shook her head while he tried to ignore her exposed legs. “My brother barely calls me.” She mumbled, letting him take her boots off. Logan set them in her closet and turned around to see that she was trying to undo the zipper of her dress.
“Wait a minute, kid.” Logan said as he quickly pulled the blanket over her and she wiggled out her dress underneath the cover. “Jesus, you can’t handle your drink.” He laughed lightly, making sure she was tucked in when her hand then touched his arm and he looked down at her.
Her eyes were veiled with intoxication, but she seemed to be looking right into him, as if invading his mind as she squeezed his arm. “Thanks for being here for me, Logan.”
“It’s my job, sugar.” He said.
Mercedes shook her head, smiling up at him as if she knew something he didn’t. “No, you’re more than the guy hired to keep me safe.” She yawned suddenly and her hand slipped off his arm as she began dozing off. “You’re my closest friend, Lo.”
In the morning, Logan found himself to still be in her apartment, having fallen asleep on her couch. It wasn’t unusual, he had spent a few nights on her couch before, but last night it was for more reasons than simply wanting to make sure she was okay. There was something going on with her. With a light groan, he got up and checked on her through the crack of her door and saw she was still asleep. He figured she would be hungry and hungover when she got up so he left to grab some breakfast for the both of them, wondering what he should do as far as his suspicions of her going through some sort of depressive episode given the uncharacteristic appearance of her apartment and her behavior.
Logan had met Mercedes when she was just sixteen years old, she was a sweet girl with not one bad bone in her body. It took a few times of her humbling his intelligence before they became friends. She was studying to go into nursing, never was the type of drink or do any drugs which is uncommon for someone so close to this kind of organization. However, that clearly changed recently. Probably around the time she left for college, the same time their father had passed away, and Emilio had far too much going on with the business he inherited and the wife he married to be able to keep an eye on his sister like he used to do. That’s when it became Logan’s job to watch her and he developed a strong sense of responsibility over her.
When Logan returned to her apartment, he could hear the shower running and the faint sound of her puking in the bathroom. “‘Cedes,” He called as he took off his brown leather jacket and hung it on the coat rack. “You alright, kid?”
“No,” She called weakly as he stood outside the bathroom door. “I think I’m dying, Lo.”
Logan chuckled, shaking his head as he slowly opened the door when he heard a flush and saw her sitting on the bathroom floor in her robe, leaning against the tub as she rested her head on her knees. “Oh, sweetheart,” He sighed, stepping in to help her. Logan picked her up and sat her on the closed toilet lid, kneeling in front of her and picking her little head up in his hands. “You look a mess.”
“Thanks.” She grumbled, pushing his hand off her face and sighing. “Never let me drink again, please.”
Logan laughed, knowing that to be one of the most unserious requests a hungover person always made. “I warned you not mix the grass and the drinks.” He reminded her as he caressed her leg, feeling the softness of her calf as he looked at her pitifully. “Can you get in the shower on your own?” He asked and she nodded, letting him help her to her feet. Her hands held tightly onto his strong arms and he waited for her legs to stop trembling before letting her try to stand on her own. “Got some coffee and breakfast waiting for you. It’ll make you feel better.”
Logan left her to wash up while he went to her bedroom and looked around at the mess, shaking his head with his hands on his hips as he tried to find a place to start. Mercedes was currently on Spring Break from school, it was fortunate that her birthday fell in the same weeks so she could recover from the festivities. Logan wondered at what point her space became so untidy and why it had become like this in the first place. As he was picking up her clothes and putting it in the hamper, he heard the bedroom door open and she walked in with a towel wrapped around her body, her wet, dark hair falling over her shoulders and sticking to her arms and neck.
“That’s clean clothes.” She said, glancing at the garments he had dropped in her hamper as she opened her dresser and pulled some clothes out.
“How can you even tell?” He asked incredulously, looking around at all the clothes still scattered in different piles.
“I have a system.” She shrugged, slipping on her panties underneath her towel and then turning away from him so she could drop it from around her body and clip on her bra. Logan looked away from her as she turned back around and he heard her scoff lightly. “Please, it’s no different than seeing me at the beach in a bikini.” She said as she shook her hair out and dried it.
Logan figured she was right and he looked back at her. It was completely different. Her white strapless lace bra contrasted against her tanned skin, her brown nipples were almost visible through the intricate pattern. Her panties were the same lace material, cheeky and hugging her full hips. “What’s going on in here?” He asked, motioning to her apparently organized mess, trying not to be obvious with his staring. Logan would be lying if he said she wasn’t an attractive girl, but he had a job to do, first and foremost.
“I’ve just been going through something,” She mumbled as she pulled on a white tank top and tucked it into a pair of high waisted bell bottom jeans. “Don’t mention it to Emilio. He’s got enough going on.” Mercedes sighed as she sat at her vanity and chugged a half full water bottle that had been sitting there. Logan watched her pick up a roach and light it while she picked out a lipstick shade and some mascara from her makeup bag.
“It’s a little early to be toking, don’t you think?” He asked as he sat at the edge of her bed and watched her. Enthralled by the way she carefully applied her mascara while hitting her joint.
“What’s that American saying? Eat the hair of the dog that bit you?” Logan laughed, shaking his head as he rubbed the inside corners of his eyes and she tossed the empty water bottle at him. “Don’t laugh at me, gringo!” She chuckled before she turned back around and playfully glared at him through her mirror while she swiped a rosy shade across her lips. Logan couldn’t help his grin as he shook his head, stifling a chuckle. “Did you spend the night?”
“Not because I wanted to,” Logan said, wiping his eyes and looking up at her. “You were too far gone last night to stay by yourself.”
Her lips made a soft popping sound as she blotted her lipstick and she took another drag of her joint while she stood up and walked over to him, standing over him with her an arm crossed over her middle. “I appreciate it.” She offered him the joint and he shook his head, standing up and placing his hands on her shoulders.
“Tell me what’s going on, ‘Cedes, this isn’t like you.” He said, looking around at her room with a worried tone that she couldn’t ignore. Her eyes fell on the crucifix around his neck and she chewed her lip anxiously. Logan truly was her friend and she didn’t want him to worry so much about her. The least she could do was have a conversation with him.
🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼
This piece of writing is so very dear to me! I am so excited to share this story with you, kind readers. Please let me know what you think:)
The Bodyguard II
🏷️: @dontfeedthebigbadwolf @peterparkernotfound @httpsells @evasmlp @ayatotiddies @thatlittlered @seasonofthenerd @littlemisscantloveyouback @scorpiosaintt @simpingfor-wakasa @spencerswh0r3 @thatweirdtheaternerd12 @shybluebirdninja @iamburdened
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prodigal-san · 2 days
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Do you have any head cannons for your hellborn!luci AU??? :o
OOOH Hellborn!Luci~ haven’t thought about this AU in a while. Hmmm let’s seeeee…
Well, Luci doesn’t remember his parents, as he was found by Fizz in the back of Ozzie’s as a squalling baby. They raised him until Luci had a falling out with Ozzie, causing him to leave Lust and try to make it by himself in Pride.
He started to work at a lounge where Lilith often sings at, and where they met and started hooking up. After an experimental tryst with magical genitalia (lol what 😂), Luci ended up getting pregnant.
Lilith wasn’t too fond of the idea of kids at the time so she ended their FWB relationship (“I think you’re getting a little too attached anyway, darling,”) but made sure Luci was well cared for by buying him an apartment in a well-to-do part of Pride where most Hellborn celebrities live (think Verosika) and giving him a huge amount of cash to raise Charlie.
Luci pretended to take all this in stride but in truth, he was heartbroken about the breakup as he had fallen for Lilith (he even has a tattoo with her name on his shoulder lol). He decided to put all that love into Charlie though, which meant he spoiled her with many toys and dresses, as well as fancy meals. His money started running out fast because of this, and by the time he realized he had about a month’s worth of funds till shit hit the fan.
Around this time, Lilith had orchestrated another coup against Alastor, but this time she dragged Heaven into it. Alastor did NOT like that and it ended with Adam’s death and Lilith vanishing for years. Alastor took a huge hit from this fight though, and he isolated in the palace since then to recover. (Which is why he’s so bored lol)
Luci decided to ask Lilith for more money as working ten busboy jobs (and one failed venture as a duck toy peddler job in Bambee World in Greed) wasn’t enough. He was also too proud to ask Ozzie for help. He knew about the failed coup, but not about Lilith vanishing, so when he came to the palace to ask for child support, he met Alastor instead.
Still bitter about his latest fight with Lilith, Alastor decides to strike a deal with Luci, saying he’ll support his daughter and even groom her to be his heir, on the condition that Luci do whatever he asks. Used to being exploited, Luci readily agrees. Alastor intended to “use” Luci the night they moved in, but when they were finally in the bedroom and Luci started stripping, Alastor started panicking because surprise, surprise… he was a 10,000 year old virgin xDDDD
And that’s where the story takes off HAHAHAHA omg I ended up writing a short fic I think askdkkskdmsma but I hope this was what you asked for?? Omg 😆
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okay, i am GENUINELY not trying to be patronizing or condescending right now, but the amount of pearl-clutching and freaking out that's happened in the past six months or so about the wrestlers you write about finding your fic has been quite high, and VERY GENUINELY, if you are one of the people panicking: how did you not factor this in as a possibility in the first place? i'm being serious. how did you, when you sat down to write about real people, not think that those very real people with internet connections and a metric fuckton of boring travel time were not going to find fanfics about themselves if they wanted to?
we are in an age where fanfiction is mainstream. back in 2000, when i was in high school, you didn't talk about that shit, but now? people are reccing fanfics on tiktok videos. publishing has figured out that writers here put out good stuff and are repackaging it for profit. ao3 is a hugo award winning fanfiction archive. y'all. it's out there. it's all out there. this is a fan space. it's still our space. you can't stop them from ending up here, but that's on them, not us. if you're freaking out, then maybe this isn't something you want to be doing. i'm being very serious. if this is causing you panic, you probably should not be part of this in the year 2024. but, like, i would bet a fairly substantial amount of money that at least 50% of them are well aware of what their number one pairing on ao3 is.
they're already here. they already know. they have always known lol. i'm, like, 75% sure i've had lines lifted from fics before, and honestly, that's not a panic moment, that's a fuck yeah i really nailed that moment. you're not doing anything wrong. this is a fan space. as long as you aren't putting it in front of them and they came here on their own? besties, you're good. you're great. it's fine. i'm being serious, please stop panicking. you gotta roll with it if you're gonna be here. you gotta assume that, at any point, someone involved could find what you're writing. genuinely, if you are not comfortable with that, then you're gonna have to just keep your fics to some google docs you share with a few friends. i know that not everyone has had a red alert level 5 the call is coming from inside the house moment, but it's one of those things. it comes with the territory.
we gotta stop freaking out every month lol. take the acknowledgements and laugh about them. it's fun when they give shout-outs! they know what's cookin'. it's cute that they keep an eye on fandom and what's hitting with us. don't put it in their faces, don't tag them on social media with it, just keep doin' what you're doin' here in the fan space and having a nice time. i promise you'll be okay.
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girlactionfigure · 2 days
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THURSDAY HERO: Carl Lutz
Carl Lutz was a Swiss diplomat in Hungary who saved tens of thousands of Jews during the Holocaust by providing them with transit visas and creating safe houses throughout Budapest.
Carl was born in 1895, in Walzenhausen, Switzerland, to a devout Methodist family. When he was 14 his mother died of tuberculosis. The next year he left school and started working at a textile mill. Carl yearned to explore the wide world outside his sleepy mountain town, and at age 18 he moved to the United States, settling in Granite City, Illinois. For five years he worked and saved money for college, then in 1918 enrolled in Central Wesleyan College in Missouri.
In the summer of 1920, Carl took a summer job in Washington DC working at the Swiss Embassy. He loved the international environment and the rewarding work. Carl’s gracious personality and keen intelligence made him well suited for diplomacy. He enrolled in George Washington University, graduating in 1924 with a BA in law and history. Two years later, Carl moved to Philadelphia, and then St. Louis, to serve as Swiss Consul in those cities. Around this time he married Gertrud Fankhauser, a Swiss human-rights activist,
Carl was sent to Jaffa in 1935, where he was Swiss Vice-Consul. In 1936, he and Gertrud watched an unarmed Jew being lynched by a mob of Arabs. They were horrified and helpless to do anything. The tragic incident haunted Carl and perhaps contributed to his later stunning heroism in Europe.
The Swiss government recalled Carl from the Middle East in 1942 and sent him to their embassy in Budapest, Hungary. He represented not only Switzerland, but also countries that had broken ties with Hungary after it allied with Nazi Germany. As soon as Carl arrived in Budapest, he began working with the Jewish Agency for Israel to provide Hungarian Jewish children with transit visas, enabling them to emigrate to Palestine, then under British Mandate.
In 1944, the Nazis occupied Budapest and immediately started rounding up Jews and sending them to death camps. It was late in the war, and the Nazi war machine had gotten chillingly efficient at murdering Jews. During a two month period, 440,000 Jews were deported to Auschwitz. Carl Lutz kicked into high gear to save lives. As a diplomat, part of his job was to cultivate relationships with Hungarian officials, as well as German Nazi leaders in Budapest. He used these connections to negotiate a special deal – he could issue protective letters to 8000 Jews, enabling them to move to Palestine.
Carl used clever tricks to increase the amount of Jews he could save. He enabled each letter to cover an entire Jewish family of any size, rather than just one person. Taking the ruse further, he issued tens of thousands of protective letters, making sure each had a number between 1 and 8000, so that busy officials wouldn’t realize that more than 8000 letters had been issued. “The Germans are very correct people. They admire discipline and order. So when Nazi commandants saw these letters, they accepted them,” said Eric Saul, founder of “Visas for Life,” a project that honors diplomats who saved Jews during the Holocaust.
As thousands of Jews were being shoved onto cattle cars and taken to their death, Carl was desperate to save as many as he could. With the integral help of his wife Gertrud, he set up 76 “safe houses” all over Budapest, designating them as under the control of the Swiss government, and therefore beyond the reach of Hungarian or German authorities. One of them was the Glass House, a former glassware manufacturing facility previously owned by Arthur Weiss, a Hungarian Jew. In the summer of 1944, Weiss’ business was forcefully taken from him and he disappeared, leaving the large building empty. Carl rented the space to open the newly created Swiss Embassy’s Emigration Department for Representing Foreign Interest. Over the next few months, over 3000 Jews found refuge in the Glass House.
During this time, the Nazis overthrew the Hungarian ruler and installed the fascist Arrow Cross Party as the new government. The Arrow Cross was viciously anti-Semitic, and after taking power they started massacring Jews in the streets. One day, Carl was strolling by the Danube River when an Arrow Cross officer shot a Jewish woman right in front of him. Bleeding, the woman fell into the river – and Carl, in his suit and tie, jumped in after her. He rescued her from the water, and demanded to speak to the Hungarian officer who’d ordered the shooting. Projecting confidence and authority, he proclaimed that the wounded Jewish woman was a citizen of Switzerland and was protected by international law. As the Nazis stood mouths agape, Carl quickly helped the woman into his car and took her to safety.
In November 1944, the Arrow Cross gathered 70,000 Jews from transit camps and hiding places and forced them on a death march to concentration camps in Austria and Germany. Carl and Gertrud followed along in their car next to the exhausted marchers and used every opportunity to surreptitiously pull people out of line and provide them with protective documents. Carl later described the scene, “For these people it was the last glimmer of hope, for us, this was the worst form of spiritual torture. We saw the people being lashed with dog-whips and lying in the slime and mud with bloody faces…. Whenever possible I would drive alongside these people on their way to the concentration camps to try and show them that there was still hope.”
After Hungary was liberated in early 1945, Carl and Gertrud returned to Switzerland. Without a shared humanitarian mission, the marriage fell apart and they divorced in 1946. Three years later, Carl married Magda Csanyi, a Jewish woman he had saved, and adopted her daughter Agnes.
Carl was not honored for his heroism for many years. On the contrary, when he got back to Switzerland he was criticized for exceeding his authority by saving Jews; the government didn’t want their neutrality called into question. In 1958, the Swiss understanding of World War II started to change, and Carl Lutz was “rehabilitated” and honored as the great man he was. The riverside promenade where he saved the wounded Jewish woman from drowning is now the Carl Lutz Rakpart. A street in Haifa, Israel was named after him, and in 1965, Carl became the first Swiss national to be honored as “Righteous Among the Nations” by Israeli Holocaust Memorial Yad Vashem. There are other memorials to him in Washington DC, Israel, Switzerland, and Budapest, where the Glass House is now a small museum. Carl died in 1975 in Bern, Switzerland.
For saving the lives of over 62,000 (!) Jews, we honor Swiss diplomat Carl Lutz as this week’s Thursday Hero.
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tozettastone · 22 hours
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I'm not going to finish this either, but I do think there should be some more fun casefic for the Akatsuki so one day perhaps I'll write one:
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"You're the best person for the job," Konan admitted. Her eyes were hooded beneath the shadow of her thick dark hair, and her usually serene face was troubled. "But temperamentally you're unsuitable. I wouldn't ask you if I had another option. If Sasori were still here..."
"Itachi?" Kakuzu prodded. It was true that a casino wasn't really the kind of environment in which Kakuzu thrived. He didn't enjoy gambling, partying, or networking.
Sasori wouldn't have been a perfect match, either. He lacked the patience for cover work. But he could count cards, and he had been very beautiful, and had enjoyed being on display.
But there was no use in wishing for the dead to come back.
"I tried. Itachi is sick."
"Still?" He had been getting sicker and sicker, lately. Kakuzu's eyes narrowed.
"Not still. Again." Was that better or worse? "It shouldn't be more than two weeks. The main problem I foresee is the attention."
"I'm not shy," Kakuzu said drily.
He took the mission request from her and examined it. It seemed fairly standard: show up, stay at the same table as Mizashi-san, and find out who he was meeting and why across the ten days of his proposed stay at the event. It was a closed and private event, with heavily vetted security and staff, so the path of least resistance was to buy in as a guest and player. Kakuzu could see that.
Konan sighed quietly. "It's not that. Every high roller in the room will have a companion. It's the fashion now."
"A prostitute?"
"An escort, yes." Konan was, as always, unflappable. "These men and women make good money that way. At the moment we plan to send you unattached, and in that case you should expect to attract a certain amount of... attention." She met his eyes head on. "You can't get frustrated and kill the sex workers."
Kakuzu would have been annoyed by this faithless assessment of his temper... had it been sent less accurate. It was hard to muster irritation when he knew Konan had seen him do that kind of thing at least four times.
"I could bring my own... escort," he said slowly.
There were people Kakuzu had managed to work well with, over his time in the Akatsuki. And they weren't as few and far between as it sounded, either: his habit of killing the people with whom he worked poorly had rather separated the wheat from the chaff, in an intra-organisation sense.
"I'm not temperamentally suited to this mission, either," Konan refuted flatly.
"No," he agreed.
"...Surely you don't want to take Hidan on a cover mission?" Konan's dark eyebrows rose. "To a private party at a casino?"
"Deidara," Kakuzu corrected. Itachi would have been his first pick, but if Itachi had been well enough to complete the mission, Kakuzu would never have even seen this scroll.
Konan blinked. "Deidara," she repeated.
"Yes. Deidara."
"Uh, yeah," came Deidara's voice from the vicinity of the doorway. He was covered in dust and had the defiant air about him that made Kakuzu suspect he'd blown up something important. It was clear in the pugnacious set of his jaw. "That's me?"
Konan turned towards him too. Her eyes lingered on the clay dried to his hem. Her lips thinned.
"Ah. Deidara," she sighed. "Come in. It seems you're right on time."
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satans--muse · 2 days
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i set up my camera, pinch my left nipple and play the most disgusting porn i could find online on my tv. my hand traveled in between my legs as i try turning myself on. ugh i don't wanna do it right now but not like i have a choice, sluts can't be choosers. so i try my best to get horny. let's just get over with it already.
i finally open the porn web and turn the camera on. i was only wearing a mini school skirt with no undies. i tried my best to fake a smile as i welcome the viewers. my eyes stuck at the rising digits before i see the comments: "hurry up, slut. fuck yourself" "c'mon don't make us wait" "yeah? is the little whore finally back after a week?" "i wish i could abuse her tight holes right now"
i sigh realizing I'd never mean anything more than a set of holes for them to get off to. putting on my doll face i say "welcome everybody. i don't intend to make y'all wait for long."
i pinch the same nipple and lift my tiny skirt, revealing my dry holes. i spit on my fingers before rubbing them against my cunt. i hum, trying to make it look like i wanted it until i read a particular comment that said "awe so dry? should i come over to warm up your holes? i think i should." i frown yet decide to ignore it. whoever it is, they probably don't mean it, i tell myself.
but that was only until i hear footsteps in my apartments. my head jerks towards the door of my bedroom, while my fingers continued anxiously and aggressively pumping in and out of my pussy. an audible gasp excapes my lips as the door pushed open, revealing my ex boyfriend. no, it can't be.
"what the fuck!?" i glance at the live chat before looking at him again. i saw him take his gun out and shoot at the wall. shit he looked mad.
with a flinch I covered my ears with my hands involuntarily. i saw him shut my laptop and throw my camera away and before i could even realize it he was forcing me down to gag on his familiar cock. "you are actually a whore, aren't you? selling yourself now that you lost the pocket money i used to give huh?" he wasn't expecting a response, not with his big hands choking me on his cock. i slap his thighs, trying to tell him that i couldn't breath but the only reaction i could get out of him was his twitching cock. he finally pushed me away, on the bed and tore the little skirt apart as i cried out in horror "please. i don't want this." i try convincing him to stop but he was only focused on my pussy, i doubted he even realized i was saying something. with his index and middle fingers of both hands he painfully pushed my vulva lips apart before shoving three of his fingers in. "cry." he ordered. i was already on the verge of tears as they finally spill. i saw his cock harden as soon as i sobbed.
he forced three orgasms out of me in almost 20 minutes, and my once dry pussy was now soaked and dripping. he reminded me of who i actually was. a whore. his whore. i wasn't even resisting any longer, knowing it was no use and he was too big and strong for me to handle.
the next thing i remember is waking up with something dripping from in between my legs, it took me a few moments to recover the memories of last night. fuck i definitely passed out last night. what happened after that!? i had no idea until i saw the amount of semen dripping out of my pussy. that can't be one man's doing, there were multiple. who were they? I'd never know cause he was gone after getting what he was here for. all i could do was think who it could have been, his friends? my dad or brother? my co-workers? his co-workers? I'd never know.
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witchofsparkles · 8 hours
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Simon was having a fairly quiet evening. In a bar like theirs, it was mostly empty anyways. The place was hidden at the end of a dark alley, making it hard for people to find and the ones who found it would turn around and leave because of its place. Who would open a bar there? Probably people who are not up to no good.
And like that, in time, the place became somewhere really shady. They offered them a silent environment and a promise to be not listened and watched. For that, Price put Simon as the bartender. He wasn’t a talker and would wear a black balaclava all the time. The business people wouldn’t know him if they saw him outside and Simon didn’t care what the hell was going on between them. He eavesdropped once passing by a table and heard a rugged man asking for a hitman to hire.
Simon left the table almost running.
Price, the owner of the bar, Simon the Ghost and Gaz the upright man were all friends from military. They served together and they got expelled together when the big brother heard that they went against the orders trying to rescue a bunch of kids from the warzone. To Simon, it was an honor of badge, but military saw it as a dirt under their shoes and kicked them out. The whole thing was infuriating but they were also happy to be out. Simon got his share of horror for a life time.
Simon raised his head when he heard the door opening. It was only 8 pm and he knew they weren’t expecting anybody. No hitman bargain, to his knowledge. And the bar was completely empty other than himself. Then he saw the man coming in.
He was looking no more than a college student, really. He wasn't young, no. But there was an air of carelessness on him. His hair was wet from the rain, which Simon only noticed now, and he used to have a mohawk. Before it got glued into his head because of the wetness. Then he noticed the sea blue eyes looking around like he’s searching for something. Simon stared at them an ungodly amount of time and averted his gaze before the man could realize. Simon’s eyes moved down to his face, stubble around his cheeks and a pair of purple lips -which probably because of the freezing cold. Then he, with sort of amazement, saw that the man was give or take a head shorter than him but broader. In what universe? Simon thought cheekily.
“Hey, mate. Have something to warm me up a bit?” Simon narrowed his eyes with suspicion. He had a Scottish accent under that soothing voice. He didn’t answer. The man was in a bar, he should know that he could order every kind of warmer there.
Instead he just walked up to the counter while leaving wet footprints and scattering water droplets around. Simon felt his eyebrow twitching, he was the one who going to clean these.
“Not much of a talker, are ye? Well, it’s pishin it doon out ‘ere and I’m freezing. Scotch?” Simon hoped he didn’t show it on his face but the only bit he got from this man’s talking was his order. He turned to fill the glass and heard the man talking again.
“I mean it’s raining hard. I could see the gears turning through your eyes. Well, that’s about the only thing I can see. Is wearing a mask come with the bartender job or did I walk into a robbery?”
Simon rolled his eyes while his back was still turned to the man. He served the drink and turned to leave but the man stopped him again. “How much?”
Simon pointed to the board. The man clicked his tongue. “Even the money doesn’t get you talk. Are you mute? Am I being inconsiderate and rude?”
Simon thought about playing mute. He wasn’t planning on talking to customers soon. But he shook his head to indicate that he could talk but he chose not to. Not to him, anyways. And that found its way to the man too. He downed the Scotch and put the money under the glass. There was a crooked smile on his face. “Well, till the next rain then.”
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lemonsweet · 23 hours
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Hi, I hope you and your family are doing well.
Can you help us repost this or donate to our family account? My name is Rabah Mounes and I really need your help, my father has cancer and he has a family to take care of, we don't have money and we need your help, we in Gaza are going through a hard time💔💔, we hope you can help us🙏🙏, even if it's a little, donate even a small amount of $10, it might save our lives from death, this is hope to spread life to us
Currently only at $477 out of $41,300 please donate anything you can
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senshis-tenshi · 3 days
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Me: Hi, I've been in therapy since childhood and nothing has helped me. I still struggle with a normal life no matter what I do. My psychologist suspects my BPD has been misdiagnosed and I'm actually autistic and have ADHD, so I'd like to book an assessment, please.
Doctors: Great! That will be 850 Euros.
Me: WHAT.
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Hello, I'm Ellie and I hope to raise money for my professional diagnosis through art commissions :3
I would greatly benefit from an official AuDHD diagnosis. I could get proper psychological treatment and medication to help me function. I would finally have an explanation for... well, basically my entire life.
I sadly have no family to support me through this, the two family members I have left don't believe in autism, so I could really use any support at all! I'm tired of hating myself for being "weird", "lazy" and "dumb", and I'm sure my wellbeing would improve drastically with the right treatment.
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≡ ꒰ ° Bust ꒱ ˚ · .
Lineart ⤞ 5 EUR Flat Color ⤞ 10 EUR Full Color ⤞ 15 EUR
≡ ꒰ ° Waist ꒱ ˚ · .
Lineart ⤞ 10 EUR Flat Color ⤞ 15 EUR Full Color ⤞ 20 EUR
≡ ꒰ ° Full Body ꒱ ˚ · .
Lineart ⤞ 15 EUR Flat Color ⤞ 20 EUR Full Color ⤞ 25 EUR
≡ ꒰ ° Extras ꒱ ˚ · .
Additional Character ⤞ 15 EUR + Not SFW ⤞ 10 EUR + Banner or Icon ⤞ 5 EUR +
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✩ I reserve my right to refuse any commissions I'm not comfortable with. This includes, for example, not SFW of underage characters, art of real people, racist, ableist or transphobic depictions... we can talk about it in DMs or asks :) Most fandoms and OCs are welcome!!
✩ I ask for half the money upfront, half when it's finished! But if I'm unable to finish the commission for some reason (like when the chronic illness is chronic illnessing or my tablet flies out the window), you will be refunded the full price :3
✩ Expected waiting time varies depending on the amount of work! A bust lineart will be finished in a maximum of 3 days, while a full color piece of your favorite ship in detail will take me up to 20 days max.
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Here are some examples of my art! Click for better quality :3
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Thank you for reading this far! Please consider commissioning me and reblogging this post to spread the word.
Take care <3
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can-we-die-now · 8 months
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hell is other people
hell is a physics lab where you get a migraine squinting at tiny images on mirrors, stab yourself in the eye with a travelling microscope and have a one in ten chance of getting a working galvanometer or voltmeter
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sergle · 2 months
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ALSO IMPORTANT TO NOTE, people dropping mad mad sums of money on gfms and charities and stuff are extremely impressive but that DOES NOT MEAN that putting like $5 towards someone's fund or any good cause is any less valuable, a lot of crowdfunding is about momentum and those single digits add up super fast, you do not need to be Rolling In The Dough to make someone's day!! moving the dial at all is extremely positive!!
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