#who knows why the text sizing gets all weird. i didn't do that and i'm not going to change it

[oceantornadoo]

hii! can you do what it would be like asking price to put pads on the shopping list?? and then when price goes shopping he has to call you to ask for what size ?? 😭😭 btw i love love your work, hope u had a good day💞.

im pretty sure you're referring to this post but i decided to make this price x reader so :) enjoy!

bsf marriage pact!price x reader, he's slightly creepy but he's sweet (this is actually a bit dubcon but its in good spirit)

you had had a shit day. actually, make that a shit week. emotional the whole time, feeling lonely, depressed, and with the weirdest cravings. right when you were about to call your best friend and rant about how terrible you felt, you had went to the bathroom and- oh.

that explains a lot.

and now here you were, sitting on the toilet for the past ten minutes, contemplating. you were completely out of all period products and your flow was so heavy there was no way you were making it to the store free bleeding or with toilet paper as a makeshift pad. of course, that's when john decided to call you (let's be real, who doesn't take their phone to the bathroom. don't judge.)

"evenin', duckie."

"ugh john, i told you not to call me that. its so annoying."

john grunted a chuckle into the phone, swiping a hand over his beard. "you love it." silence. he could practically hear your eye roll. "dinner tonight?" he was pacing his apartment, uncharacteristic for a man like him. calm, cool, collected. never when it came to you.

"can't, sorry. maybe in a few days." he grunted. "could order a takeaway?" you sighed in his ear, the sound a melody he craved to hear over and over again. on lazy saturdays and in-between small fights over laundry. baby steps, though.

"its just not in the cards tonight, john, i'm sorry." you were never like this, withholding information. even when you cancelled on him, it was with a long-winded explanation with the names of about seven people he didn't know and plans you didn't want to go to. "'s wrong, duck? got a hot date or somethin'?" he mentally crossed his fingers, not allowing a physical expression. he wasn't that whipped. not yet.

"no, im just sick. and tired." his muscles relaxed. he started putting on his boots and grabbed a fleece, something gaz insisted was not too tryhard for someone like him. "i'll run to the store and grab ya medicine, hm? what'dya need?" you sighed again, rubbing your fingers to your forehead. he obviously was not giving this up and you did really need pads...

"ill text you a list when you get there. thanks john."

"anythin' for you, duckie."

list: pads, advil, that one chocolate candy you know i like, something for dinner

shit. price had been with a woman or two, but had never had to buy her pads. of course, he'd never let it get to that stage, not when he had you to take care of. but now here he was, staring at playtex and always and what the fuck was a diva cup? he'd better call you.

"all ok, john?"

"ya didn't give me a color on your pads, duck." you giggled. of course he paid attention to the green versus orange pads.

"its pretty heavy so some of the overnight and extra daytime ones would work." silence.

"...there's numbers." your cheeks warmed. you couldn't believe you were talking about this with john of all people.

"god, john. this feels so embarrassing. so weird to talk about with you."

"why? gotta know this for the rest of my life, duckie." shit. he was referring to that night a couple weeks ago, when you confessed to him you thought you'd never find love. when he said he'd marry you in a heartbeat, just say the word. when you compromised by telling him if you were still single in two years, you'd go to the courthouse then and there. when you didn't see him turn and write the date in phone, just as a reminder.

"5, john. there should be a moon symbol or something. and then 3. should be green, i think?" he grunted an affirmation, putting the respective pads in his cart. he turned around, having said goodbye and ended the call, and was subsequently greeted by three women, staring. paused in their product selection, staring openmouthed at how nonchalant he was about buying pads.

30 minutes later he was at your place, groceries and takeaway in hand as he used his spare key to let himself in. "duck?" all quiet. he stalked through your place and noticed the light on in the bathroom. one, two, three quick knocks. "john?" "'s me. can i come in?" "no i- need you to get me something." he waited patiently. "can you go to my dresser and grab a pair of underwear. something ugly, lots of coverage." who was he to say no to a free invite to your underwear drawer?

john dropped the pads outside your bathroom door and headed to your bedroom. finding your dresser, he had to give himself a second. calm down, old man. they're all clean.

that didn't stop him from sniffing a few, reveling at the scent of your laundry detergent. he almost groaned at the scent, imagining you in them. even in the "unsexy" pairs, your curves clothed in cotton and elastic, wrapped up in a lovely package. all his.

john selected a pair with "lots of coverage", whatever that meant, and headed to your bathroom. he opened the door with ease, setting your pads down on the counter. you shrieked.

"john! im half naked, you need to knock." obviously, the sight of your bare thighs and the top of your mound peaking out was most welcome, but he was more concerned about getting you off the toilet and putting food in your belly. "jus' me, duckie. come on, show me how to do it." he gestured at the pads. he couldn't be serious.

you slowly unboxed them, taking care to cover your naked body as much as possible. even while moving slowly, your shirt still shifted and he caught glimpses of your pretty pussy. an image for another day, when you weren't in pain. he focused on your fingers, deftly putting the pad on your underwear with years of practice. he memorized how you placed the pad, ensuring it stuck to your underwear before tearing the paper off the wings and tucking them on the other side. you looked up at him and he nodded, mission complete. "thank you, by the way." he kissed your forehead, so quick you could have missed it in a blink.

"turn around, i have to put it on." he sat back on his haunches, staring. "go'on. 've gotta learn somehow." you were too tired to care, ready to devour your dinner. you missed his hungry gaze as you revealed your cunt to him, wanting even though it was covered in blood. you missed his fingers twitching as you slowly pulled on your underwear, fabric caressing your skin like he yearned to. you got up, flushed, and washed your hands, missing how he tucked his fingers in belt loops and leaned back into the wall, a move he'd done many times in his tac vest.

"thank you, john. truly." he gave you a grin under the muttonchops, all satisfied. task finished, mission accomplished. you had asked him to do this, a husbandly duty. after you dried your hands, you made a move for the door, but he stopped you with a hand to the jaw. he brushed his beard against you, feeling the shiver in your bones. his mouth hovered near your ear, accent coming out low and sultry. "anythin' for my future wife, duckie."

--

ngl this got a bit weird but i like it??? had to struggle to not lean into my simon riley weirdness tendencies as im still learning john as a character.

[disneyprincemuke]

the thanksgiving incident * ls2

it's never fun feeling like an outsider, so you'd sworn that nobody would ever feel the way you did all those years ago

pairings: logan sargeant x platonic fem!driver

notes: my deepest apologies for not posting today, a migraine had me down bad and wishing i was dead but it's okay i'm bad baBY LETS FUCKING GO

| "wanna hang out?" | driver's parade | american burgers | american football | the thanksgiving incident | another williams adoptee | beating the heat | you’re embarrassing me | santa baby | the favourite driver | the situationship |it's nice to have a friend |

come up to my hotel room

you stare at your message in the blue bubble, trying to assess the lack of response from the younger driver. you press your fingertips into your lips and turn around. "do you think he now thinks i'm trying to hit on him?"

george, with a balloon in his mouth, stops blowing into it briefly and stares at you. he pinches the opening of the latex decoration and tilts his head at you. "what did you text him?"

"hopefully not," alex speaks, walking past you from his previous spot at the entryway. in his hands is a medium-sized bowl of mashed potatoes. "that would be weird."

"i just texted him to come up here," you say, catching your bottom lip between your teeth.

"you didn't say anything else?" george asks.

you shake your head.

"that's kinda misleading," alex mutters. "has he read it yet?"

"he left me on read," you mutter, pursing your lips. "seriously, guys! what if he thinks i'm hitting on him?"

alex shakes his head. "everyone on the grid knows you're on and off with shawn. it's impossible that logan thinks you're making a pass on him."

you raise your eyebrows. "did logan tell you that?"

there's a knock on the door, cutting george's wish to reply short. he looks at you before he resumes blowing into the balloon in his hands. you look at alex, who simply shrugs and turns away to untie the plastic on the small table of your hotel room.

you sigh and push yourself off the bed, walking over to the door slowly. "who is it?"

"it's logan!"

you huff and wipe your palms into the material of your sweats. you pull the door open and the greeting at the tip of your tongue immediately disappears when there is a singular sunflower in logan's hand.

"what is that?" you ask with a hand on the door handle.

"it's a," logan clears his throat and follows your gaze at the sunflower in his hand, "a sunflower."

"i know what a sunflower looks like," you answer softly, "but why is it in your hand and why are you holding it up?"

"well, you texted me without context, by the way," logan starts, taking a step away from you to throw himself back into the hallway, "and i didn't know what to make out of it. so i... i don't know. i got you a sunflower."

he extends his hand to offer you the flower once more.

"i told you!" you screech, turning around to call for george and alex. "i fucking told you!"

logan, out in the hallway, grows confused. he tilts his head. "what?"

"i- the text," you cut yourself off as the severity of the situation gets to you. you turn around to face logan. it's only then you realise that he made the effort to look presentable, sporting a nice pair of shorts and a polo tee. "i asked you to come up here because we prepared you a thanksgiving dinner."

you press your lips together, fighting back tears when a blush creeps up logan's cheeks. you watch as realisation slowly hits him and his jaw drops. "oh."

"yeah," you breathe out. you look down at the flower and take it into your hands. "this is very thoughtful. thank you."

"yellow flowers are a sign of friendship."

"are you rejecting me?"

"are you fucking around with me? is this a prank?"

"no, i'm just offended that the first thing you thought of was a subtle way to let me down."

"i didn't know what to say to you. you're very pretty," logan readjusts his shirt and clears his throat, "but like- you know?"

"i guess," you shrug. "would you like to come in?"

"wait, you prepared me a thanksgiving dinner?" logan asks softly, hesitantly following you inside. he slips off his shoes right by the door and lets the door shut. "me?"

"of course! i figured you'd want to celebrate it. it's nothing like home or what your family could give you," you hum, stepping aside as he gawks at the decoration that george poorly put up. "but i thought you might like to at least spend the night with people instead of being all by yourself in your hotel room."

"i- i don't know what to say," he whispers, a smile slowly growing on his face as he looks around. there's a picture of a turkey stuck on the wall, a couple of balloons taped above the tv and an entire meal prepared on the table. "thank you. this is the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me."

"we couldn't find a turkey on such short notice so," alex mutters, patting his rookie on the back. he points at the far corner of the table, where there is a stuffed animal of a turkey resting on a plate. "the genius decided to opt with a toy."

"a toy that he gets to keep!" you shriek, a hand on your chest. you turn to logan. "i'm sorry i texted you to come up without context."

"tell shawn i'm sorry i thought you wanted to hook up with me."

"we're on a break."

logan pulls a chair out from under the table and grabs a plate for himself. "then tell him i'm sorry he's stupid for breaking up with you." he takes another and offers it to you. "dinner?"

[idesofrevolution]

The Journey of Dr. Santana Fabrega

There's nothing quite like your bro slobberin' over your sweaty feet while tokin' on a hookah. Let me just tell you- everybody's happy. I'm stoked to be stoned and minty fresh, and he's happy to taste my ripe size 12's. Who isn't the happiest? The folks. Sure, I dropped out of college, sure I started focusing one hundred percent on my art, sure I have a parade of guys out of my little basement lair... but I never got why they had to be such fuckin' buzzkills.

Ever since they joined that church when I was at uni, my parents have been sucked into the Evangelical cult. Not the whole lifting your hands up to Jesus & speaking in tongues sort of church, by the way. Man, they're out there with picket signs at sex clinics, bannin' books at the high school, all that crazy fuckin' Christian Nation bullshit. They're my parents, so I love 'em and whatever. But fuck, those psychos really fucked 'em up. So now, their crusade is "curing" me of my gayness. Didn't really matter that I'm pan, they don't really know the difference. They don't really care about the difference, though. Not straight, not right.

So when they caught me the other day with Sam cleanin' my dick in the basement, it was World War 3. Man, a Nuclear Bomb would have less energy than my mom's hysterical shrieking. It's Florida, so it's nothing the neighbors haven't heard before. But, shit. I thought my eardrums were gonna pop. They stomped off upstairs, bein' all 'we are going to talk about this later, Santiago.' So, I let Sammy finish up, I pulled on some shorts and I went upstairs to face the fire while he snuck out the basement window. Fuck, I wished I were him.

The 'family meeting' went about as well as you'd expect. Threats of burning in hell for all eternity, demands that I find the Lord, etc. Apparently he doesn't like a lot of things about me: my weed, my tattoos, my sexuality, my piercings, my hair for some reason? I don't know man, I just tuned out after a while. What I did catch, though, they were sending me to substance abuse counseling. Couldn't help but laugh, and that sent dad through the fuckin' roof.

"Doctor Fabrega is going to teach you some manners, young man. Make you a Godly man, like you should be." Yada yada yada. He should have known better than to give me the doc's name. After the ass reaming, I made my way back downstairs to the computer. It took five minutes of research to find this Doctor Fabrega. Turns out he's a Christian Therapist, but that wasn't what was most interesting. Down in his specializations, buried beneath substance abuse & cognitive behavioral therapy was a word that caught my eye: licensed Hypnotherapist.

I knew exactly what kind of bullshit they were tryin' to pull on me. But when I was enrolled at U Miami, my major was Psychology. Not only that, but I still happened to have access to the university library. Oops.

I texted Sammy, knowing I was gonna be up all night doing research, and that my dick would need some appropriate attention under the desk. I was gonna show this motherfucker just how sick it really is to be like me.

---

The waiting room was bullshit. Cold white walls, bright wood floors... It looked straight out of an IKEA ad. I'd already been there for like 20 minutes past my appointment time, giving me just enough time to scroll through the last chapter on my phone. I hear the receptionist call out my name, and I head toward the office. Just as bullshit as the waiting room. It's like the guy wants to live in a psych ward- no color anywhere. At least get a blacklight or something.

"Santiago Rivera. Welcome, I'm Dr. Fabrega." The guy was hot as fuck, not gonna lie. Looked like he was straight out of Sao Paulo- even with the fancy suit you can't hide muscle like that. "Please, sit. It's so good to meet you." His voice was so weird. Speaking every word with like, perfect diction. You know those AI voices that talk that way? That's what it was like, as if he were trying so hard to hide an accent underneath.

"Just call me Santi, doc." I plopped down on the leather chair, might have put my feet up on his coffee table (don't recall), and he just looked at me like he was looking in a microscope. No idea what the deal was. He walked over to the couch and sat down with my file and started to drone on.

"Alright, Santi, it says here that your parents are pretty concerned about your behavior lately. You're 23 years old and a college dropout, you take illicit drugs, you have no job, and you're having unnatural thoughts. That's quite the list, bud." He was so fuckin smug, that sort of punchable glibness that only comes from a particular kind of self righteousness. Like Jesus himself came down and kissed them.

"So, first off. I did drop out of college, because I couldn't afford it. Second, I sure the fuck do smoke green because it's a) fun, and b) prescribed to me by my real doctor. Third, I do have a job. I do graphic design and graffiti art and I pay my own bills with it. And last off, yup: I fucked him." He sat there, somehow shocked that I told him how it was right off the bat. I'm not playing his little game, and that made him angry.

"I see. So you have no remorse for any of this? I believe your parents are very right to be concerned about where your life is headed."

"Fascinating, considering I'm moving out at the end of the month and they won't need to deal with my life. So. You married?" He was thrown off by that, just as I'd hoped. Right out of the blue. Knocks them off kilter for a second. An easy question to answer, so they usually do.

"Uh, well, no I'm not married. Is that your concern in all this?" Man, I couldn't help but laugh. He's trying to be sarcastic?

"Where did ya go to school for... whatever this is." This made him close my file, he even put it on the table and crossed his arms.

"I went to Liberty University, top of my class in their Doctor of Psychology program. You, it seems didn't make it that far, so you might not know what 'this' is." Oooh, he's big mad. I thought, let's push it. I did what most of my guys love, but would piss him off, I kicked off the Vans. Made sure I wore my skating shoes that day, the super ripe ones with the same damp socks. When they came off, those puppies let their presence be known.

"Sounds boring. Boring then, boring now. I got accepted into the Art Institute in Savannah, so I'll be headed that way soon. Be legit soon, then you wouldn't have anything to say. How's your sex life?" He thought he was so tough, not flinching at the musk, nor my question. But I knew both hit him right where I wanted. The question to make him mad, the stink to get him hot.

"Santiago, I think we should continue with our session. You can put your shoes back on and we can try some exercises to help you think a bit more clearly." I crossed my ankles, wriggling my toes a bit.

"I think they need some air. Are you gonna try and hypnotize me now? Or is that the last ditch effort when everything else fails?" He leaned back in his seat, the grimace growing stronger. "That stuff is not that hard to master. A couple days really and you got it down."

"Is that so?" He ground his teeth as he spat out his words. "It seems you know all there is to know, then." Time to hit it home.

"You know what, let's put money on it, doc. Hundred bucks says I can put you under." I got him, his eyebrow shifted just enough for me to see.

"This isn't a casino, Santiago. I don't bet money on client's health." I couldn't help but smirk. He left an opening I couldn't pass up.

"Aight, no money then. If I put you under, I get the bragging rights. If I don't, I'll play your stupid games. Win-win for you, nothing to lose but your dignity." Hook, line and sinker; he leaned in, grabbing the remote on the table next to him. He tapped a button, and the shades started to come down.

"Well then, Mr. Rivera. I wish you luck."

The room got dark. Really fuckin' dark. Fabrega hit another button on the remote, and a cool blue washed over the room. Gotta say, tight LED system. I kicked my shoes off the table, and scooted my chair forward. Showtime.

"Alright, Santana, I want you to just take deep breaths." He squirmed at my use of his first name, one last dig before I brain fucked him. He took his deep breaths one at a time, slowly getting deeper and deeper. "As I count down from one to ten, each number will bring you closer and closer to relaxation. Picture a long tunnel, at the end, a bright white light. With every number, you take a step forward to the light, do you understand?"

He nodded, it was an induction I'd made up this morning. I started from 10, telling him his first step he could feel the tingling relaxation in the tips of his fingers, slowly crawling up his hands and forearms. 9. Another step, the tingling creeps up his big muscly arms and shoulders. 8. One more step, the tingling is pushing up his neck and throat, reaching his tongue and teeth. 7. The tingling bursts into his head, a paradoxical rush of relaxation, a fog of dissonance washes over his brain as thoughts collide and crash about. 6. The tingling washes down his spine, flowing through his nerves into every part of his body. His body feels electric, a painless jolt running throughout him. I watched as he tensed up, his big muscles contracting and bunching him up. It was working.

We get to 5, starting at the crown of his head, the volts decrease, turning lugubrious and liquified like molasses sloshing about in his head. 4. The light is so close he can feel the heat, but his body is cooled as the syrupy fluid flows down over him like a waterfall, pooling in his big feet as it fills every crevice. 3. It feels as if he's trudging through mud toward the light, his legs feeling wobbly and gelatinous. 2. So close, his whole body feels like a massless blob, inching toward the final drop into the cavernous light. 1. He crawls toward the ledge, plummeting down into the endless void of bright white light. There, he will sit as I have a little bit of fun.

"Alright, Santana. Can you hear me in there?" Fabrega nods, expressionless. Fuck, that was maybe a 80/20 chance I was gonna fuck this shit up so bad. But I guess God really is on my side here. "Whenever I ask a question, you will answer truthfully. Whatever I say you will incorporate into your life. Now, Santana, what do you do when you're not at work?" His lips moved slowly and replied in monotone.

"I go to the gym, I go to the golf course, I hire my date, and I go home." Ooooh shit. He's giving my friends on the corners a decent living, good for him. Hardly a Godly thing to do. Either way, it was a perfect place to start.

"You love going to the gym, don't you, Santana?" He nodded. "You love gettin' all sweaty don't you?" His head began to shake, his expression furrowing a bit in disgust. "No, Santana. You love getting all sweaty. The feeling of those cool droplets on your hot muscles during a hard workout? Doesn't it feel good?" He pauses, before reluctantly nodding. Ahh I love gettin my fingers in his brain, never ceases to please. "You love that funk that comes off your sweat, Santana. You love sniffin your pits, your big feet, your balls... That musk means you're workin' hard. Keeping in shape. Staying virile. Isn't that right?" He nodded, squirming in the chair. I watched his body try to reject the instructions, try to rebel, but just one repetition had his back to stillness.

"You don't even like golf, do you?" He nodded, I didn't even need to manipulate him. "You much prefer hitting the beach, don't you? Seein' all the guys and gals starin' at your glorious bod... You love it, don't you?" He nodded, the side of his lip curling ever so slightly. "You love bringing out the speedo, letting the goods hang low, letting the buns bulge... you know they all wanna see it anyway..." He nodded again, it was like taking candy from a baby. The guy had the mental fortitude of a frog.

"You like fucking, too. You can have any girl or guy on the street with a single wink." He nodded, and I couldn't help but watch as his groin started to bulge. "Yeah, boy. You love taking that horse cock and plowing it into some ass... plowing it into some pussy... fucking their pretty little mouths..." Drool started to drip from the corner of his lip, and a little wet spot quickly appeared on his pants. "You're a freak, aren't you, Santana? You like fuckin' in the car, in the sauna, at the gym, under the desk... gushing gallons into them while you shove your sneaker on their face." He was moaning, slowly grinding against the open air. Can't lie, I was gropin' myself a bit just watching him.

"Now, Santana. I'm going to bring you back to your office, but when I do, you are going to be super laid back and chill with Santi during your sessions. If he says the word 'sniff' you will return to this space, return to an open mind, just as we have done here today. Do you understand?" He nodded one final time before I began his emergence. Counting back from one to ten, I watched as he slowly came back to the real world, and with one snap, he blinked his eyes and wiped his brow.

"Well, doc. I got the bragging rights." Fabrega pinched the bridge of his nose, as if he had a headache. Time to see if it had all paid off.

"Uhh... yeah... Santi. You got me there..." Perfect. He pulled his hand away from his nose, clicking the shades back up to their little hole. It didn't take long until he saw the wet patch on his bulbous package. He chuckled under his breath. "You'll have to excuse the mess, Santi... I have hyperspermia, so sometimes it all just flows out." Hot- and totally unprofessional. Just how I like 'em. I leaned back in my chair, smirkin' the whole way.

"Damn, doc. Firehose down there. Gonna have to show me sometime." He smirked and waved me off.

"I don't fraternize with clients, Santi. Oh, look at the time. I'm late for my 5:30. Alright, I'll see you next week." He stood up, extending his hand, his whole demeanor entirely changed. I slipped my Vans back on, spitting on my hand before gripping his. He shuddered a bit, sure. But we were gonna get real close, real quick.

---

The next few days flew by. My folks were so excited to see that I was looking forward to seeing Dr. Fabrega, and I loved knowing what they didn't. I was excited to see if Dr. Fabrega was gonna be Santana. So when I finally got back in for my appointment, I didn't need to wait long at all. Only five minutes and the door swung open, the receptionist completely flustered. The anticipation was killing me. She sat down behind her computer with tunnel vision and I walked into the office.

At first, I thought it was empty. He wasn't sitting at his desk, on the couch... but as I heard huffing from the balcony, I knew where to find him. I walked up to the sliding glass door, and turned outside to see one hell of a sight.

It was Santana. Nothing on but his whitie-tighties and his damp socks doing pushups on the bench. Fuck, those muscles were glistening in the light, his underwear with damp patches on his ass and bulge. His clothes sat in a pile near his head: jeans, a Miami Heat jersey, some sick dunks I wanted to steal... far from the stuffy suit he had on just the week before. He finally noticed me, and smiled.

"Santi! Hey! Just finishing up my lunch workout. Thought I'd get a session in today on the balcony. Damn, the fresh air is good for exercise!" I smirked. It was night and day. So far, gone was the bible thumping hypocrite, and here was what was underneath. If anything I was doing him a service.

"Shit, Santana! You're looking prime today. You gonna funk out our session today, or?" I punched him in the shoulder, and he giggled like a kid.

"It's eau naturale, my friend. Natural water. That's what it smells like." He slipped on his jeans and his big fuckin' sneakers, tossing the jersey over his head while we walked in. He trailed some deliciously ripe musk, and I couldn't help but savor a bit of it. We plopped down on our seats, and just started shootin' shit. I bitched about the parents, he bitched about his receptionist, I told him about Sammy suckin' my dick clean, and he told me about the threesome with a gym bro and his girlfriend. He was coming along beautifully. Though, I thought to myself, how's about a round two?

"Dude, by the way, those kicks are fuckin' tight." I pointed to the dunks, which he smugly kicked up onto the coffee table, showing them off.

"Thanks, man. They're the lifting shoes. My work boots, heh." I reached out, grabbing ahold of his foot, and yanked it off. He chuckled like a fuckin' idiot while I looked at 'em. Size 13, nice and big- and the smell wafting out of there... Fuck, man.

"Damn, dude you never wash your socks? These stink!" I playfully tossed the shoe at him, and just as he started to brush off the comment, I said my magic word. "Sniff it." Like a flipped lightswitch, his expression turned numb, slowly bringing the shoe to his nose and inhaling his own musk. I clapped my hands, rubbing them together: let's do a little more programming.

"Santana, You're a pretty chill guy, you know that?" He nodded. "You smoke, don't you? You know, the good shit?" Deep in his mind, he had to know it was me talking at this point, so I was talking to him like a bro. Establishes trust, ya know? He shook his head no. "Ahh, come on man. You love kickin' back and toking on that reefer after a long workout." Santana chuckled a bit, before nodding, still nose deep in his sneaker. "Yeah, you love smokin' out your bros, your babes... when you're not shootin' tequila!" He full out laughed on that one, nodding along. The sneaker slowly dropped from his hand, and he laid back in his chair.

"How old are you, Santana?"

"28." Shit, he was only a few years older than me. I mean, he looked young. But hell, you wouldn't have known it from the way he acted.

"Where are you from?" "Rio de Janeiro." Interesting. I clocked the accent. I was pretty proud of myself.

"Why do you try so hard to hide it? The way you talk, the way you dress, the way you act... You act like you're from Ohio." Another chuckle, I should have had a Netflix special. "You're gonna embrace that Brazilian pride, bro. Don't hide it for some mayo drinking buzzkills!" He furrowed his brow, nodding intently. This one was for his own fuckin' good. Be proud of that shit! "You should get some ink to really embrace it. Nothin' sexier than a tatted up stud, am I right?" He nodded again, his bulge once more springing to life. I smirked, simply wanting to know a little something somethin'.

"Do you think Santi is hot?" He sat there for a second, before slowly smiling and nodding. I didn't even need to program that one. Aww, big old himbo. "You're not afraid to let him know, are ya? I mean if you tell his crazy fuckin' parents that he's cured... He wouldn't be your patient anymore... Right?" His bulge twitched again, and he smirked devilishly as he nodded. "You like it when he's all up in your brain, don't you? You like it when he gets his dick deep in there and mind fucks you into a chill, laid back stud. Don't ya?" The dampness grew and his breath got heavy. He nodded, drooling down the sides of his cheeks. "Yeah, you wanna let him in completely, don't ya? Make you like him?" Moans grew, and his thrusting in the air quickened pace. "You wanna be best bros with him, don't ya? Bros with benefits... hangin' out, smokin' weed, hittin' the clubs, swappin' spit... swappin' cum... swappin' subs..." He started fuckin' howl. He was beggin' to splurge. "When I tell you, you will cum. And when you do, everything we talked about will be your truth. Now... Cum."

His eyes opened, still moaning loudly. He gripped onto his jeans, pulling down the waistband and underwear, that big old uncut donkey dick flopping out before shooting his load all over himself. Volley after volley. He wasn't kidding about the hyperspermia: maybe four double shots of his spunk sprayed like a geyser into the air. The 8th Natural Wonder of the World. He laid back and chuckled, throwing his arms behind his head.

"Fuck, brother!" The thickest accent flowed of those lips, deliciously thick. "After today, that'll be down your throat, cara." He pointed at me, hopping to his feet and shoving his python back into his pants. "So, I'll write your discharge papers, it'll get the pais off your back. Act the part until you're out, and just go live." Fuck yeah, we high fived, and I ruffled that sweaty mullet of his. "Hey, come over tonight. I got some friends comin' over... if you and Sammy wanna join." He winked and slapped my back. Damn, I did good.

"I'll be there, man! You save me a round so I can show you how to clean this dick." I groped my bulge, smirking as his bit his lip and winked. I've created a monster.

---

"Ei, sexy! Come get a toke before it's gone!" Such a demanding little bitch, I love him. I slipped his filled condom off my cock, the kinky fucker insisted, and I happily complied. If I'm being real, this psycho has taught me things! I flushed it down the toilet, and swung the bathroom door open to see him lounging on his bed, toking away at the blunt I packed.

"Hey you fuckin' hog, don't you smoke it all!" He chuckled dumbly, reaching over to hand me the blunt, taking the opportunity to snatch my wrist and pull me forward into a kiss. Fuck those lips were so good, pressed against mine or around my cock. "Isn't Carrie coming over soon? You gonna be able to get off so quick?" I pushed away, taking my puff.

"Ahh, plenty to go around, eh?" He groped that musky bulge that I had a feeling Sammy would be huffing later. "Ey, bring me my pants. We can go get a shot before she gets here." Heh, the last month or so crashing with him has been fuckin' sick. The folks think I'm rooming with some guy from the church, when really I'm gooning with my therapist every night in his bed. Savannah is letting me take online courses, I'll have my B.A. in a couple of years, and I'm already getting some gallery hits. Santana is gonna be my armcandy for the opening, and I told him to forget his deodorant. Fuck he’s perfect. But a thought had crept in my head the other day. One last program, one final idea planted in his head... Though, at this point, there was no need to put him under. I'd just ask him.

"Hey, so I gotta go to Georgia to finish up some paperwork at the school. It got me thinking... I'm followin' my dream. What about you?" I tossed him his pants and passed the blunt, taking a deep whiff of those ripe dunks before throwing them his way too.

"I could go back to the practice, though I think the bible thumpers would lose their minds, heh."

"Well... What we did for eachother... What if you did it for others?" I slowly got down to my knees, a smirk crawling across my face. "What if you could help those poor... misguided young men change their lives?" I crawled toward him, spreading his legs wide as I tossed his legs over my shoulders. "Wouldn't that be so... so... fun?" I slowly pulled down his musky briefs, releasing his monstrous cock again, the musky hooded beast slapping me on my cheek. "Then, we could have so... many... new.. friends..." I pulled down his slimy hood and wrapped my lips around his tip. I should have known better. His hand grabbed the back of my head, slamming it down onto his spear, my nose buried in his bush as he thrust back and forth into my mouth.

"Unff... Yeah, brother... Oh yeah... That sounds like a good... unhhhhh... good idea." Grunting, slapping, moaning, slurping... it all rang out in his room, until he gushed another thick load down my throat. "You wanna join me?" And in that moment, I smiled. It was the best idea he'd had yet.

[snek-panini]

I actually didn't mean to let nearly two weeks go by since my last bookbinding post, but somehow time has just slipped away from me till now. For today we have a pretty simple one, though:

This is Postcards from Paris, by ghostrat, a story that I asked to bind way back at the beginning of May. It's a Good Omens human au, involving letters received by an unintended recipient and a long sequence of getting to know one another via writing. I love epistolary stories and wish they were more common both in and out of fandom, and this one's really soft. Like the whole last chapter makes me feel all rosy and warm. Go read it if you haven't, it's wonderful.

More photos and such under the cut!

The cover up there is chocolate lineco book cloth with blue metallic htv. Like with many of my small-sized binds, I tried to not buy anything specific to this one and instead make something coherent from what's already on hand, and that philosophy lent itself well here. The story's about getting to know someone with only the verbal impression of them, not even their voice but just the words they choose and their handwriting, and has a lovely feeling of being overwhelmed by their physicality when you finally meet in person, and I think the stripped-down feeling of the bind fits that theme. It's deceptively simple, and you won't realize how deeply you're in love with the story until after you've read it.

Top view, with blue ribbon bookmark, and slate-blue plain cardstock endpapers. I'm pleasantly surprised by how well all the blues match, considering the htv was bought for another project, the endpapers were bought in a multi-pack for another different project, and the ribbon probably was cut from the shoulder of a fancy shirt. I really would have liked to do custom blue-and-brown end bands, but at barely 80 pages the book's too short for that so it's got premade ones in black and white. The front hinge wouldn't behave when I cased it, so it's got that weird wiggly part and I don't know why. I've used this cardstock for endpapers before and never had that issue, so it's a bit of a mystery.

Interior photos. The stripped-down, simple philosophy persists. About the only theming I did was to choose a handwriting font for the larger text, which seemed appropriate for a story told in postcards.

Random interior of typeset. This thing has so many scene breaks, my god. I sincerely thought about picking two handwriting fonts and putting all the postcards in those. They would have been opposing ones so you could tell who was writing without the scene break lines, but it was too difficult to read at this font size and looked kind of messy, so I didn't. I always size down the font a little for quartos, because the full-size one I use for folios looks weird on a half-size page, but this is the only time I've found that decision working against me.

And that's that! As always, I hope I did the story justice with this bind. The designs feel right when I make them, and I hope others agree. I've still got two more books to post from this late spring batch, so those'll be up over the next week or two.

[adoresmiles]

His Concealed Obsession.

Chapter two.

Tags : @violetmuses @onlyrealjoy @unicorndelulu @nelo0wesker @liatreads

AN : I hope you guys enjoy chapter two! Please give feedback on how you feel about the book and what you think will happen next!

Kanani

I nodded my head as I listen to my friend tell me about her last two dates that she had been on. From what she was telling me , the outcome of both dates came out terrible due to her overbooking herself on the same night. Which I couldn’t understand on why she would do that when didn’t care for neither of them. I continued to listen as she expressed on how neither dates wasn’t her type and how she had to spend money .

“Well maybe if you asked them questions I’m sure you paying for your dinner wouldn’t have been an issue.”

“The guys I deal with on the regular always pay for my dinner. I just assumed that they were like them and didn’t bother to ask them about themselves.”

“See if they weren’t your type why didn’t you turn them down! That is what I would have done. Turn them down.”

"Don't you ever get tired of turning down men?"

"Nope, not one bit."

"The standards that you have are blocking your blessing of obtaining a man."

"Well I'm sorry okay? Almost every guy that came up to us today was a drug dealer and you know this."

"That's the best type of money around Kanani! It's fast, they get it around the clock and they're available for you twenty four seven."

"That is not my type of ideal partner."

"Who said you had to marry them?!"

"Listen I don't want a drug dealer to be my partner. Just because you want that for yourself does not mean I should have to."

"What about a Cartel leader? You know the guys who calls all the shots. They don't shit besides tell their people what to do ."

"You want to know what I think? I think you watch too many mafia romance films. Which is very concerning to me."

"Oh please , every girl in the whole world has had a fantasy about getting kidnapped by the cartel and falling in love with the leader."

"I'm just going to act like I never heard those words come from your mouth."

I said to my friend as I walked over to a different clothing rack. After lunch , we decided to do a little bit of shopping . Prior to me leaving KP had sent me a text message informing me about how him and 

his colleague's were going to be in my complex.

"This is super cute! I really love this color, the fabric is satin but it's cute though."

"I can see you in it, what size do they have ?"

"All of the sizes they only have an extra small left. Ya ass can't wear nothing that damn small."

"And I've been looking for this exact dress. Maybe if I keep looking around I could possibly find some- hey isn't it weird that the guy over there is the same exact guy who sat behind us at the restaurant ?"

"What guy Kanani ?"

"The guy over there with the all black on. He was sitting outside with us on the patio."

"Oh him? He's cute but he isn't your type. Maybe a good hump every now and then ."

"I'm being serious , he wasn't with anyone at the restaurant and he for damn sure isn't with anyone right now."

"Pretty sure he is with someone , I saw him walk in behind some blonde girl. I'm sure he is with here with someone or he's just window shopping ."

"But he hasn't moved since we been here. He's just standing over there by the shoes looking over at us."

"Well maybe he find of us attractive Kanani."

"You just said at the restaurant he was with some blonde girl ."

"I did not! I said he walked in behind a girl who was blonde . That does not necessarily mean that he is with her. For all we know, he could be one of those guys that be on those dating apps."

"Nah he doesn't give me those vibes."

"Girl men do that all the time now. The last dude that I use to date would go on multiple of dates. He would just simply meet up with them at different location's and they would do whatever she wants."

" You didn't care?"

"Not one bit , why would I worry about it when my ass was out here doing the same exact thing?"

"Alrighty then I was not expecting you to say that."

"Well you should have . I hold back nothing when it comes to tricking. You want a date with me , I'm going to need some money."

"Are you sure Jax and you aren't siblings ?"

"Jaxon use to be a player back in the day. See if he didn't marry Lauren , I would have been not only your best friend but your sister in law too."

I rolled my eyes for what seemed like for the hundredth time today. Ever since my best friend came into my life , she has always had a crush on my eldest brother. Which I found it funny since every girl he introduced to our family , she never cared for. Well every female besides my sister-in-law Lauren.

"You can look like that all you want to Nani. Jax and I had to been together at some point in our afterlife."

"We are in our mid late twenties and the crush you have on my brother still is beyond me."

"Yeah I know , but until I get him I can only continue to be delusional about him."

"That's toxic behavior and I highly recommend you to go back and see your therapist again."

"And I highly encourage you to lower your standards."

"I could never."

"Never say never , because one day you could meet a guy and be in love with him the very next day."

"Only delusional people do that."

"Furthermore why I think you should lower your standards and just become delusional. I mean the guy over th- well he was over there . He could  have been your potential partner."

"How about you potential your way over to checkout."

"No need to be hostile here , just saying a little joke."

"Hello ladies , did you find everything okay while shopping with us today?"

"Yes we did , well actually I would like to place an order for one of the dresses I saw here today."

"I'm guessing the satin dress with the side split?"

"How did you know?"

"Everyone has been calling in for it. Before you two ladies had arrived , we sold out online completely."

"When will you guys be restocking ?"

"No time soon sweetie , there was a guy who was here that purchased the last order that was available."

"You mean the guy who was staring at us while we shopped? "

"I'm surprised that you missed him, he's a sweetheart. Will that be all for you ladies?"

"For me yes, she has a lot to check out. I'm going to go step outside , got to call KP back."

"Hello? Keith what's wrong? .... Slow down. I can't understand whatever you are saying. What are you looking at my location for?! Didn't we all agree on not looking at each other location unless it's an emergency? ...  a shooting where ?"

Before I could get a response from my brother , I heard ear piercing screams and glass breaking.  My body was thrown onto the ground and my head was pressed against a firm chest .  Hot tears poured down my face as I felt my heart pounding harder than before. Screams and sirens echoed through the air as people were running and pushing each other out of the way.

The person tucked my body underneath theirs and rolled us underneath a car. Looking up at the mysterious man, I was met with a tinted visor and a gold chain swinging over my face. Taking in a deep breath , I was hit with a familiar scent that came from him. Tears begin to pour down my face even more as I now realized that I had almost lost my life.

“Shhh it’s okay , you’re okay. I got you beautiful.”

“KANANI!”

"Estas bien hermosa?"

"Yeah.. I'm fine. Thank you."

"No deberías estar aquí. necesitas irte."

"Oh my gosh Kanani! Are you okay? What the fuck happen out here?! Did you get hit?!"

"She's fine, I got to her before any bullet could hit her. Take her home, she's shaken up."

"Who the fuck are you?"

"I'm the guy who just saved your friend life , Take her home and I'm not telling you again."

"Her brother and his team is on the way, we can’t le- wait where the hell are you going ?! Aren’t you going to sit here and wait until he gets here?!”

“I don’t fuck with the police sweetheart, they do nothing for me.”

“Well can she atleast have your name?’”

“Don’t worry about that.”

The sirens grew louder as they got closer to us. I watch as he looked at the direction it was coming from before running off and getting back on his motorcycle. He sped off and didn’t bother to look back at me. Letting out a shaky breath , i carefully pulled myself up and took in the scenery. Shattered glass was everywhere, three deceased bodies and a bunch of police cars and ambulances lined up.

Allowing my eyes to scan through the wreckage in hopes of finding the mysterious man, even though he was long gone. In the midst of my search , something shinned brightly on the ground. Walking over to the item, i immediately realized it was his gold chain that he had left behind. Taking a quick look around , Keith who had appeared out of no where had his back facing me as he spoke to my friend and a few of his colleagues. As if I was collecting my belongings off the ground, i discreetly picked the chain up and placed it in my bag as I made my way back over to the small group.

Translations:

Estas bien hermosa : " Are you okay beautiful ?"

no deberías estar aquí. necesitas irte:  "You shouldn't be here , you need to go."

[inflatingnblue]

I just wanna say that you’re beautiful, all the kinky shit aside. I’ve been getting posts recommended to me on my tumblr fyp that say you liked them, and they’re all horrible upsetting pro-ana stuff, and I don’t know if those are old likes or new ones, but I hope you aren’t falling prey to those demons. They’re always wrong, and all they ever want is to erase you and make you less of who you’re meant to be. You deserve better 💜

This is a long one, friends, so feel free to skip.

First, thank you for sending, Anon. You didn't have to and you still did.

Recovery is complicated, and that's an understatement. Although I like Violet and "blowing up," that's all in fantasy land. In the real world, I would like nothing more than to lose weight.

For the longest time I've believed that my worth comes from being thin and beautiful, that things would make sense and fall into place. That I wouldn't hate myself anymore if I could just get to the right size and then being the right size would also equate to beauty.

I started gaining weight after I was in recovery for a year. I gained a lot over the course of several years. I couldn't figure out what was wrong; working with my dietitian, going to the doctor's, getting test after test to just be told 🤷🏻‍♀️. I thought I was losing my mind. It was really hard to focus on recovery and I slipped a lot.

I was (and still am) extremely aware of how much space I take up and compared myself to those around me. I was (and still am) extremely aware of the fat shaming that happens around me. I hated leaving the house because I knew I would be judged for my size, and that judgment is still a fear I experience today.

I relapsed during 2022 and lost a "significant" amount of weight. I'm using quotes because that's how my therapist described it. I wish I had lost more so it didn't seem significant enough. Then in 2023 I finally found the answer I was looking for - lipedema. I was very grateful to know what was wrong, but it still sucks.

This year I've been working on recovery and it's been fucking difficult. I can't seem to just stay on one side. One day I'm gonna do my best and eat regularly and try to be nice to myself. The next day I may flip and start thinking about weight loss. This time the ED would work, I'll make sure it works. Pat myself on the back if I didn't eat while in the office or got a certain number of steps in. It's exhausting ping ponging back and forth.

My FYP matches that ping pong game. Sometimes I'm not even looking for ED related stuff and it hits me in the face. This might sound weird to some - EDs are very seductive. They can easily be called an addiction. My neuropathways are ready and raring to go down the highway to ED Land. Sometimes I can stop it along the way and sometimes I can't. Some of the posts feel comforting because I know I'm not alone. Some of the posts would be pretty alarming for most people with the imagery and text. I know it's not helpful to look at the pro ana and ED related posts. Just like I can be in awe with how big someone's tummy is, I can also be in awe of various pro ana content.

I know the actual problem is feeling like I don't deserve better. I punish myself for not meeting the high expectations I've collected over the years. Self compassion is still a foreign concept. Logically I understand why it's important to practice, it just seems wrong for some reason.

Again, Anon, I really appreciate you reaching out and voicing concern. It's helpful to hear the same positive and supportive messages from different areas of my life. And I'm sorry you're getting these recommendations. I didn't realize that would happen and now I remember I turned off the option to get recommendations. 😬 Just know I heard you. I'm sure you already know that change is slow, although I'll be more mindful of what I like on here.

Thanks 💙

[copperbadge]

Hey, Sam, I just received the omnibus from Lulu and, uh, got something a little different than I expected--not the Shivadh books! Harry Potter fic, in fact, but also not yours! I am the unexpected recipient of the entire All the Young Dudes series by MsKingBean89, whoever that is! All dressed up in your dust jacket/binding. I'm letting Lulu know, but I wanted to warn you just in case this wasn't a one-off problem. The fact that it was Sirius/Remus fic but *not yours* made it extra weird.

This is amazing. It took me like an hour to even get my thoughts in order about this.

Before I do anything else, just gonna tag @lobsterbang in this; that's MsKingBean89's tumblr and while I understand she's not on here very often if she does see this hopefully it will amuse her as much as it does me. :D

So, one, if anyone else has encountered this or similar issues, PLEASE report it to Lulu and get your book replaced, these hardbacks are too expensive for this kind of nonsense. On that note, @joycesully I hope they send you a new copy and let you keep the book you've got, because that's hilarious. If they give you flak, please let me know.

Two, did the dust jacket like...fit the book? Because the number of coincidences that would have to happen for you to receive All The Young Dudes in place of the Shivadh Omnibus are numerous. But they BEGIN with "Are they roughly the same size because the omnibus is a giant doorstop." If it's formatted with page numbering, how many pages is the print copy of ATYD, around 600 or so? Is it printed to the size of the Omnibus but with a bunch of blank pages or anything like that? (More on why I ask this in a moment.) Is the dust jacket offset weirdly in any way, like is the spine title not centered on the spine?

Three, I have had this issue with Lulu before. Most notably, the time I ordered a bunch of copies of Charitable Getting and instead got 25 copies of Chicks Dig Guys That Cook, a cookbook by a guy who cooks (and presumably either gets laid a lot or lies about getting laid a lot). But also I once custom-made a hardback copy of Nameless by request, and the book came with a) the Nameless dust jacket, b) the text of Nameless inside it, c) AN ENTIRELY DIFFERENT TITLE printed on the spine. How? Who knows.

Four: So there are a couple of ways this could have happened. I'm not sure of the legality of uploading a fanfic to Lulu for printing, but I do know that Lulu doesn't give a shit and won't check, so whether it's legal it is possible to upload a fanfic to Lulu and have them send you a nice hardbound copy of it. Almost certainly nothing will happen as long as you're not selling copies publicly. This is clearly how Lulu got the presumably typeset and formatted file for ATYD. Now, the easiest way this could have happened, since they're not alphabetically close, is if I had uploaded a copy of ATYD and the files got crossed when they printed your copy of The Shivadh Omnibus. I didn't do this; I don't keep paper copies of fanfics and while I've heard ATYD is great, I haven't read it.

The funniest part of all of this, sidebar, is that ATYD is not just a Remus/Sirius fanfic, it's one of the top R/S fanfics ever, possibly one of the most famous fanfics in recent history. It's frequently recommended alongside Stealing Harry as a must-read classic (it's undoubtedly recommended more than Stealing Harry, but they often pop up together). So you didn't just get a random HP fanfic that isn't mine, you got the direct spiritual successor to Stealing Harry.

Anyway, I didn't upload it, but it's possible that someone else was like "Well, as long as I'm going to buy the ominbus, why don't I print myself my favorite fanfic as a book?" The most likely explanation is that someone did this and their order went in around the time yours did, and somehow you got their copy shoved into your dust jacket, while they presumably got two copies of the Omnibus instead of one Omnibus and one ATYD. That's why I'm curious about the dust jacket, because they would have to be similar in size for this mistake to take place. (If one of you out there ordered ATYD and got two Omnibi instead, I'd love to hear from you, feel free to get in touch, I promise not to narc to anyone.)

If that's not the case, it's a series of truly baffling coincidences; someone must have uploaded ATYD, and either the manuscript file got crossed with the Shivadh Omnibus file randomly and that fic got printed inside the covers of my book, or a copy of ATYD was printed around the same time a copy of the Shivadh Omnibus was by coincidence, and their jackets randomly got swapped. The odds of an extremely famous fanfic getting digitally swapped with a non-fanfic by the author of a similarly situated but entirely unaffiliated fanfic are pretty low if there wasn't a third person in the mix somewhere, ordering both at the same time.

I just. For you to order a non-fanfic book by a well-known HP fanfic author, and receive someone else's extremely well-known HP fanfic instead, is fucking bananas. I don't know what to do with that. I feel like I should apply for a job at whatever press Lulu uses to print their books because some of the nonsense they pull behind the scenes is fascinating.

[raccoxn]

DEAD OF NIGHT • SOAP X CIVILIAN!READER PART 2

SCENARIO: you're a civilian who got caught up in a mission soap was on. he ends up in your care while the rest of the 141 is dealing with the mission at hand while looking for him. 

you live in a small cabin and it's quite literally in the middle of the woods. it's big enough for one or two people, so taking in soap wasn't an issue. the only issue on the table was the fact he was bleeding out...

**told in y/n pov**

+

By the time I got into town, the sun was just cresting over the mountains and illuminating the sky. I kept glancing to my phone to see if Moira send a text back on meeting me, but I didn't see anything yet.  So, I opted to go buy new clothes for Soap since he was filthy and covered in blood. He could probably use a shower too so i'll get him his own shampoo, conditioner, and body wash.

I parked at the front of the small store and got out of my car, eyeing the open sign and sighing in relief. I'm never in town often since I come once or twice a month to get things I need. I just don't like people, so living alone was great.

Until Soap came into your life, a small part of me grumbled. I couldn't agree more, but I couldn't let him die. I'm not that heartless.

I walked into the store and waved to the cashier. He waved back before going on his phone again, completely engulfed in whatever he was doing. I made my way to the men's section and grabbed anything that would suit Soap. I grabbed t-shirts, henley shirts, sweatpants, sweatshirts, wool socks, underwear—anything to keep him comfortable. I didn't know what size he was, but I took a guess with a large or extra large, then moved on to toiletries. I grabbed travel sized items then went to the medical area to get bandages, ointments, and more ibuprofen and melatonin. If he's going to be with me for awhile, might as well give him a supply of his own.

I noticed a woman staring at me as I grabbed a couple bottles of men's shampoo, conditioner, and body wash. She then eyed my cart full of clothes and other medical items.

"My brother's an idiot. Forgot all his clothes at home and then had the audacity to cut himself with a kitchen knife while cooking." I grumbled at her and she walked away. I wasn't in the mood for that.

Once I got what Soap needed, I pushed my cart to the snack aisle. I grabbed three boxes of poptarts, some chips, and a jar of Tostitos queso. 

My phone buzzed on my pocket and I pulled it out, seeing a text from my pharmacist friend, Moira. I had explained to her VERY vaguely that I needed stronger medication for Soap without mentioning him, but judging from her text message, she wasn't going to give me any. I tried to convince her again, but she just told me to buy Tylenol, ibuprofen, and make sure to keep him elevated enough. After that, she completely ignored my text messages and I was left in my problems yet again.

Shoving my phone back in my pocket, I started to head in the direction of the checkout. As I walked closer, I noticed a group of armed men enter the store and the few of us in here started to panic. I stayed where I was and ducked behind the cart as if it would protect me. 

"Stay calm, everyone!" One of the men shouted, his Spanish accent heavy as he looked at everyone around him. The cashier I waved to earlier glanced to me and tried to come over. Gun shots went off and everyone screamed. The cashier fell to the ground, bullet wounds littering his body and his eyes stared at mine. 

I stood up completely when the armed men glanced at everyone.

"We're from the Las Almas cartel, and we're looking for someone who has info about our leader, El Sin Nombre. He's Special Forces—goes by the call sign Soap."

I kept my face void of emotion but I was screaming inwardly. How the hell was I going to get out of this situation alive? More importantly, why are cartel members so far up here? Like I thought before, I knew it wasn't impossible, but it was weird to me. I always thought of them as staying by the border..... I don't know if that's stereotypical or not....

"My men last saw him around this area. This is a small town. Someone must have seen a tactical-armed hombre with a stupid little mohawk?"

I almost cracked a smile and laughed at his statement, but I stayed silent. One of the men walked amongst the other terrified customers, his eyes looking over the groceries and items they had. I stared back at him when he approached me, his eyes looking at the mens clothing and toiletries in my cart.

He shouted in Spanish at me before he aimed his gun at my head. I didn't even flinch or scream when he did that, but rather stared with a bored look at my face. How was I doing this shit emotionlessly?!

"I have a name, y'know."

"You've seen him. Where?"

"I haven't seen him, you idiot. I'm buying clothes for my brother because he's a dumbass and forgot to bring his entire duffel bag to visit me."

I kept my gaze steady on the cartel member in front of me, my heart pounding against my chest and my head getting light. I kept my hands on my pockets to keep them from shaking, but I also dialed 911 by triple-pressing my lock button. 

"You don't come clean, we'll kill you!"

"Even if I kept the guy you're hunting for under my watch, you don't have evidence to prove it!"

He grabbed the front of my shirt and hit the end of his gun to my temple. He got in my face, his hot breath hitting my skin and I resisted the urge to gag from how it smelled.

"We'll kill everyone here if you don't tell us."

"Just tell them!" A bystander shouted from her cart.

"Tell them! I can't die!"

"Save us!"

"Don't kill us, please! I have a baby at home!"

I looked at the innocents around me, strategizing a way to bargain and even get everyone out alive. I didn't care what happened to me. If I died, that would insure Soap's secrecy and safety. 

But who would take care of Nic?

I sighed and nodded my head, telling them I would concede....not that I'm actually going to tell them where I live....

"Before I tell you, I want to strike a deal: everyone here gets to leave unharmed and not threatened. They remain anonymous. Second, if I tell you, I get to go free as well. Whether I'm unharmed or not, I get to go."

I happened to see something flicker from the back of a truck, then I saw someone duck down behind my car. The realization of who they were hit me and I decided now would be a good time to get out of the way.

"Anything else?" 

"Yeah. How good are your reflexes?" I threw a box of poptarts at hm before diving behind a cash register. That's when all the bullets came through and the cartel members either dropped dead or scattered. 

I tried to crawl toward one of the aisles but I was grabbed my the ankles. A remaining cartel member yanked me back, clawing at my legs and getting on top of me.

"Everyone run to the emergency exits!" I shouted and they didn't hesitate to do just that. 

My fear overwhelmed me as I started to cry and scream for help. My "tough guy" facade was no more, and now I was a sobbing mess.

"GET OFF ME!" I screamed as I kicked him in the face and crawled. 

A gun shot went off again, but this time it was me who got shot. The bullet burned into my calf and a scream ripped from my throat. I couldn't move as he grabbed me by the back of my shirt and yanked me upwards.

"You kill me, you kill this one!" The cartel member shouted as I cried. I looked out the shattered windows, seeing that the cops and Soap's team was aiming their weapons at me.

"TAKE THE SHOT!" I shouted at the top of my lungs, fearful tears streaming down my face. "TAKE THE SHOT!"

I closed my eyes and moved my head away to clear a shot. When I heard the bullet tear through the man's skull and his grip loosened, the two of us fell, except he was dead and I was a sobbing mess.

I felt someone gently place their hand on my shoulder as I cried from everything I felt. Pain, fear, trauma, my worry for my dog—hell, even Soap crossed my mind.

"You're the one who helped Johnny. Where is he?!" That familiar British accent asked me as I started to drift off.

I managed to tell him my address before completely blacking out, my head resting on my arm and tears continuing to drench my face.

+

When I woke up, I was greeted by an annoyingly bright light and the smell of disinfectant and alcohol. I blinked rapidly as I looked to my left, seeing Soap in the hospital bed beside mine. He was asleep and had oxygen tubes at his nose.

"You're awake. Finally."

I looked over at the corner to see a hooded man with a skull mask on. Only his eyes were visible and there was black smudged around them. When he stood, I couldn't help but stare. He was a unit....like, his bicep was probably the size of my head.

"No shit, Sherlock." I sighed, keeping my awe under control as he walked up to me. I could tell he was untrusting of me, but after glancing over to Soap, he loosened up a bit.

"I hear you found him?"

"More like he broke into my cabin and temporarily passed out in the bath tub. I stitched him up as best as I could and helped him rest. I just didn't expect, well, this."

I gestured to my elevated leg that was bandages heavily.

"I'm guessing you're the one Soap calls Ghost. I'm sorry I was cryptic when I replied to your 'how copy'." I did an impression of his accent and he stared back with a blank look. "I didn't mean to sound like I was holding him hostage."

The two of us went silent for a moment before the room door opened. Another man walked in, but he wasn't masked. He seemed more welcoming than Ghost but he still intimidated me.

"Y/N L/N, the one who, to an extent, saved Soap's life. While you were extremely cryptic in that response, I thank you for keeping my comrade safe. I'm also impressed with how you handled the whole hostage situation."

"Oh, that was pure adrenaline, now that I think about it. I sobbed like a baby when I dove away."

The man laughed a little and walked up to me.

"I'm Captain John Price, but you can call me John. The masked one is Ghost, and Soap is John McTavish."

"Do I get to know Ghost's real name?"

"Negative." Ghost responded and I looked away.

"Fair enough. Wait! My dog, Nic! Is she—"

"One of my men, Gaz, and two of our allies, Alejandro and Rudy, are taking care of her. If the hospital allows, we can bring her in."

I relaxed when I heard she was okay, sighing in relief as I ran a hand through my hair. I glanced to Soap when I heard him grumble and stir in his sleep. Price and Ghost immediately joined his side when he woke up, his Scottish accent hoarse and scratchy from being asleep.

"Bloody hospital..."

"Agreed." I said from my side and he looked at me. I pressed my lips together, staring at him as he stared back.

"Can I speak to Y/N alone?" Soap asked as he looked at his two friends. They glanced at me before nodding, the two leaving and Soap and I stayed silent for a moment.

I picked at my nails as Soap started to speak.

"I want to thank you. Ghost told me what you did for me while we were in the ambulance."

"It was nothing. Figured I got morals, might as well use them."

Soap laughed at my statement before looking at his hands. 

"You remind me of Ghost in a way. He's the same as you: doesn't like people but he still has the honorable morals."

"Glad I could be of service." 

Soap nodded, but I noticed his expression became solemn.

"What?"

"Once I leave, it'll be like we never met one another. I'll go back to being in the field; you'll go back to whatever you do...."

"Do you want my phone number?"

I looked at him with my eyebrow raised, the man staring in shock over me being so straightforward. I almost laughed but I didn't to keep the unfazed facade up. Inwardly, I was screeching and kicking my feet. I mean, it's not everyday a man covered in blood and grime comes into your life to make it interesting.

"That'd be nice." He replied, smiling softly as he looked back at me. I felt my cheek heat up.

"Do you have a phone I can put it in?" I managed to get out and scratched the back of my head nervously.

"How about writing it down on paper?"

"Dude, that's so middle school..." 

I looked at him, Soap completely confused about what I said but I didn't elaborate. Instead, I grabbed a tissue from the Kleenex box on the bedside table and held out my hand.

"Do you have a pen?"

+   +   +

pt.3?

[landwriter]

Oh my god your writing has me in a choke hold!!! I’m curious about Hands and/or Shut Up, please! Your brain is amazing and lovely and I’m very excited to hear anything you have to share about your WIPs💚

Thank you so much! I've got a couple Hands asks marinating and nothing to offer for them yet, so Shut Up is the Twitter Beef AU (another excerpt here) where Hob is a comparative lit professor and Dream is an underground electronic artist, and Hob comes for him on Twitter. Death meddles and drops a diss track. Hob finds out at his last lecture before hols and plays it for his course in a fit of pique, and...ends up having the best two hours of his teaching career?

He slides into Dream's DMs for the first time under the cut:

He catches sight of the time and is surprised to see it’s five minutes past the hour. Normally, his cue is when a handful of students start pointedly packing their things in the last few minutes of the lecture. “Okay, we’ve gone on too long, because you’re all still here, letting me, but I do need to get to office hours, so let me conclude with the argument that this is why textual analysis is so important, right? The author chooses their words to say more than one thing, and, as we learned, having additional knowledge of where they’re coming from - historically, socially, culturally - is the real Rosetta stone for understanding their message. I encourage you to think about that while you choose your final paper topics over break. A final reminder that your draft thesis is due on our first week back, and yes, I will be able to tell if you came up with it that morning, so please, please, give it some thought. If anyone feels keen and wants to talk about their ideas now, you know where to find me. Office hours go until 6. Alright, go, be free. My apologies to anyone who was excited for Marlowe - we’ll cover him when we come back instead! Have an amazing break, folks.”

Students are coming over already and he holds up a quelling hand. “Office hours, guys. I have other classes! I’ll see you there.”

It’s true, of course, but also he wants just a quick moment to himself to do something. Slinging his bag over his shoulder, he pulls out his phone and ignores all his notifications to send a DM to Morpheus before he can think too hard on what he’s doing.

didn't know you needed to be protected by your big sis, next time i'll go easier on you x

He hesitates, deletes the x, and sends it, and jams his phone back into his pocket. After his office hours - exhaustingly well-attended - he finally has a chance to check his phone again. He's not used to actually having three hours worth of students to talk to.

There's three messages from Morpheus.

she insisted also i wrote most of it for the record

He raises his eyebrows. The messages are from nearly two hours ago, which he hopes means it's not uncool and weird if he replies right now.

it was you? it's incredible writing

Then, feeling suddenly far too earnest, he quickly adds:

almost like you went to school for being something other than a pretentious goth cunt

His reply is marked read immediately and he nearly chokes on his tea. He desperately wishes he could delete the last message now. Too much, he thinks. Always too much, Hobsie. Morpheus is typing.

don't need to go to school for that x and thanks

He puts down his phone violently and stands up, breathes out. He feels like a teenager with a crush. His phone buzzes again and he snatches it back.

meanwhile i bet u have student loans still prof

Hob laughs.

only a little. some of us had to learn how to be pretentious actually x

He thinks for a moment, then adds, wincing a little at the size of the text block:

thanks btw. aside from threats from ur insane fans I also had the best lecture attendance in ages and my office hours were 'sold out' lol. if all I had to do for better student engagement was get in an internet feud with a random musician I'd have done it years earlier.

so u concede i'm a musician :)

you still have terrible taste in shoes hey i see you typing if you say anything about my sweatervest i'm blocking you!!

then have a good night, professor gadling

you too

Then he waits a little too long, maybe, before adding:

morpheus

[kingedmundsroyalmurder]

Oh shoot, I just realized that Kilmeny's climactic moment isn't actually in the next chapter. In my defense, her dialog is centered and bolded and several font sizes larger than the rest of the text, so it really looked like a chapter heading. Also narratively I was absolutely expecting it to be a new chapter.

Anyway, so Kilmeny doesn't just speak, she yells! And it is clearly understandable and complete sentences! I don't think this is how that works, but I will admit that I know nothing about adults who have had medical conditions that prevent them from speaking learning to talk. Maybe you are able to form words without issue if you grew up hearing and understanding the language. I do feel like at minimum she's going to have kind of an unusual accent. But again, this is a book where a woman is mute because her mother sinned against her own father, so I'm not sure it's terribly science based, you know?

So Kilmeny yells to warn Eric and Eric doesn't realize who yelled but looks behind him on instinct and sees Neil, who did see Kilmeny speak. Neil drops his axe in horror and runs away -- we assume that he knows that everything is lost for him now.

But we ignore him for a hug, because Kilmeny can speak now! End of chapter for real this time, and frankly not as good of one. Come on Maud, give me one cliffhanger!

Moving on to chapter 18 for real. Eric and Kilmeny run to tell the Gordons about the miracle that has happened. Only Eric hastens to assure us that it is not at all a miracle, David Baker had said such a thing might happen, it is all very scientific and explainable. Eric Marshall is going to move to fairland and run a steam train across it.

Thomas Gordon is having none of it though. It is a miracle and he's going to appreciate it as one. I wish we had gotten more of him -- he's one of the few characters who takes none of Eric's nonsense. Which I guess is why he doesn't get to talk on page much.

She spoke naturally and easily. The only difficulty which she seemed to experience was in the proper modulation of her voice. Occasionally she pitched it too high—again, too low. But it was evident that she would soon acquire perfect control of it. It was a beautiful voice—very clear and soft and musical.

Confirmation that Kilmeny does not have a noticeable accent. Sure. Fine. I'm with Thomas Gordon -- this makes much more sense if it's just magic.

Thomas asks what to do about Neil, and Eric, because he is a benevolent colonizer, says they must forgive him. Because Neil isn't an adult, who can be held accountable for his choices, he's half boy half wild animal and as such it's not his fault that he reacted accordingly to heartbreak. (I will note that I am paraphrasing here -- they don't quite say it like that. But it's the vibe.)

“That is true, Master, but it does not alter the terrible fact that the boy had murder in his heart,—that he would have killed you. An over-ruling Providence has saved him from the actual commission of the crime and brought good out of evil; but he is guilty in thought and purpose. And we have cared for him and instructed him as our own—with all his faults we have loved him! It is a hard thing, and I do not see what we are to do. We cannot act as if nothing had happened. We can never trust him again.”

I am going to strongly dispute the proclamation that the Gordons loved Neil. The only time they talk about him is to say bad things about him. Only Kilmeny ever had anything good to say. And, I was thinking back, and there is zero mention of him in any of the stories about Margaret's return and Kilmeny's childhood. Neil would have been four years old when Margaret came home after her marriage. A four year old child is going to be deeply impacted by the heightened emotions and tension in that house during those months of Margaret's silence. I think LMM just forgot about him, but what it conveys is that the Gordons forgot about him, or didn't care enough to mention him.

Neil was like their weird charity case kid that their dad insisted they keep. He doesn't seem to have been considered part of the family at any point except, again, by Kilmeny.

Conveniently, Neil has solved their problems by leaving town of his own initiative. Probably the smartest decision he has made all book, not going to lie. Eric learns this from Robert Williamson, who wants to know what on Earth has happened over at the Gordons. Eric tells him part of the truth -- that Neil scared Kilmeny greatly and in the process she gained her voice. And then Eric goes off to bed and Robert leaves us with this delightful line:

“Well, I never heard anything like this in all my born days—never—never. Timothy, did YOU ever hear the like? Them Gordons are an unaccountable lot and no mistake. They couldn’t act like other people if they tried. I must wake mother up and tell her about this, or I’ll never be able to sleep.”

[ladyartichokie]

0-44 on the ask game. I'm nosy and even though I know the answer to several of those questions I'm not going to type out every single number individually.

(plz feel free to ignore this ask lol I don't seriously expect you to type all that out even tho I'd read it)

killing you killing you killing you

0: Height? 5'0"

1: Virgin? You know the answer to this

2: Shoe size? Anywhere from Womens 5 to 9

3: Do you smoke? Nope

4: Do you drink? Occasionally

5: Do you take drugs? Nope. But fun fact, I had to take painkillers when I was little and they altered my taste buds

6: Age you get mistaken for? Well when I was like 11-12 I would get mistaken for 16. Now I think most people assume I'm around 18 just because I'm in advanced classes? IDK though

7: Have tattoos? Nay, my liege

8: Want any tattoos? I have mixed feelings on the morality of tattoos, but I know what I would get if I were to get some

9: Got any piercings? Just basic lobe piercings. I'm currently trying to convince my parents to let me get a second lobe piercing

10: Want any piercings? Yes

11: Best friend? Arnold Schwarzenegger

12: Relationship status? Single/married to more people than I can count

13: Biggest turn ons? I'm not answering this. (voice.)

14: Biggest turn offs? I'm not answering this

15: Favorite movie? 10 Things I Hate About You, Much Ado About Nothing, The Princess Bride, The Italian Job

16: I’ll love you if... you don't make fun of me for being excited for something. Or if you tell me something reminded you of me.

17: Someone you miss? My fake grandfather

18: Most traumatic experience? I'm not answering this, bestie

19: A fact about your personality... I'm actually really good at giving advice. I wasn't even aware of this until I accurately predicted exactly what would happen to multiple of my friends/their relationships

20: What I hate most about myself... my pride. I have a massive ego because I'm really smart and I know it.

21: What I love most about myself... IDK man.

22: What I want to be when I get older... A Dominican Sister

23: My relationship with my sibling(s)... They're good! It hasn't always been like this, but we're getting better

24: My relationship with my parent(s)... Always good with my dad, iffy with my mom

25: My idea of a perfect date... Truthfully I don't know. My parents didn't date before they got engaged, so dating has always seemed kind of odd to me.

26: My biggest pet peeves... People who buy crocheted stuff from fast fashion stores. I hate fast fashion in general, but crochet can ONLY be done by a human, so it's basically guaranteed that you're buying the product of slave-labor.

27: A description of the girl/boy I like

28: A description of the person I dislike the most... I actually am really bad at disliking people. Every single person who I've met and started out disliking I eventually came to like for one reason or another.

29: A reason I’ve lied to a friend... uhhh. Boredom? IDK. I used to be a bit of a pathological liar, but I can't think of a recent lie I've told a friend

30: What I hate the most about work/school... bad seminars

31: What your last text message says... The most recent thing I sent someone (you) was "I did read 1.5 books from HTTYD"

32: What words upset me the most... huh, IDK. I can't think of any off the top of my head

33: What words make me feel the best about myself... This one is hard because I'm in this weird phase where I don't want my accomplishments recognized, and compliments in general frustrate me. I don't know why this is.

34: What I find attractive in women... Kindness that isn't wet-blanketness

35: What I find attractive in men... Warmness. Which, granted, sound like kindness but it isn't. (for legal reasons my answers to both this question and the previous one are purely platonic and subject to change)

36: Where I would like to live... a convent

37: One of my insecurities... My weight. I am going to the gym 2-4 times a week now, though, so I'm working on it.

38: My childhood career choice... a nun

39: My favorite ice cream flavor... Cookie Dough

40: Who wish I could be... a better person

41: Where I want to be right now... right where I am (that is, my bed)

42: The last thing I ate... a brownie

43: Sexiest person that comes to my mind immediately... Dobby

44: A random fact about anything... I'm currently trying to figure out how to make a cross-stitch that captures the vibe of No Longer You from Epic the Musical

For the record, you already knew at least half of these so I truly don't know why I bothered doing this.

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #250

Today is my 250th letter to you. I'm 25% of the way to 1000. Imagine that. I assume I'll have about 1000 letters to you by the time the third part of your remade story comes out. I'm… anxious and scared about what might happen to you. But I'll keep hoping for good things. I'll keep hoping for good things.

Today was supposed to start out as a relatively normal day; when I said yesterday that you should join me on today's adventures, I wasn't exactly intending the "adventure" part to be quite so literal. But then Mogwai caught a chipmunk out back in our tiny postage-stamp-sized backyard area. He then promptly brought it into the house and released it. Of course, that meant I had to capture it. I guess I wasn't fast enough for Mogwai's liking, though, because he captured it again. I pried the stunned creature out of his jaws, and, in a panic, I searched frantically for a container to put it in, before he came to and tried to bite me, as small creatures do when they're scared and being held by something far larger than they are.

There was a paper McDonald's bag on the floor; M had ordered from there recently. I was running out of time. So I just dumped the tiny creature into the bag, because I was out of options. It was a pretty tall bag. I felt... not awful about it, even if it wasn't exactly ideal. I didn't get bitten. Yay, me. But I did get blood all over my hands. I promptly washed my hands; you don't mess with body fluids, because they can give you weird diseases.

...Mogwai had nicked its leg pretty badly, I think. I tried to take it to the nearby animal hospital; they treat wild creatures. M drove. But they're not open on Sundays, because apparently, according to most medical facilities in my country of residence, emergencies only happen on weekdays. 🙄

Not knowing what else to do, and not knowing enough about small mammal anatomy to know whether the chipmunk was just bleeding or was bleeding out, I tried calling North Country Wild Care; it's an organization in my state that coordinates wildlife rehabilitation. But apparently, you get an answering machine, and you have to leave your information, and apparently, this answering machine is checked at most once every two hours. I did leave a message just in case, at around 11am.

The little creature could be dead by then, so I tried calling a bunch of other wildlife rehabilitators in my area. I must have tried 5 or 6, and of those, only one answered. And they answered not by picking up the phone, but by texting "Who is this". I tried to explain, and she said she couldn't take in the animal, but she gave me the number of someone who might. So I called that person, and they referred me to an animal hospital some 45 minutes from where I live. So I called them to make sure that they will take in the little chipmunk, but apparently, they're not allowed to do anything unless North Country Wild Care gives them the green light.

...Cowards, the lot of 'em. Absolute fucking cowards. Who prioritizes red tape over lives? I don't understand.

...Well, so I brought the creature back in the house, and set it in the laundry area to try to keep it away from the cats; it has doors that can close. I tried putting a worn, but clean sock in the bag so that it would have something to burrow into while I waited for North Country Wild Care to call me back.

...But I shit you not, the tiny creature leaped up out of the bag in a single bound like a coiled freaking spring. I ended up needing to chase the stupid little thing around the house again, trying to keep the cats at bay with a squirt bottle in the process. It managed to run outside. It was long gone after that.

...I was very upset. Even if the stupid little fucker doesn't bleed out, cat mouths have flesh-eating bacteria in them. Even with prompt treatment, you can still end up losing a limb to infection from a cat bite; they're really nasty like that. I don't like the creature's odds. And I don't like that it wandered into my yard despite the fact that it must REEK of cats back there. Why, as a small creature, would you go to an area that reeks of predators?

...The only reasonable explanation I can think of is that it's afflicted with toxoplasmosis. Toxoplasmosis makes small rodents want to hang out with cats. It's the only thing I can think of. That's all I've got.

...Sigh. Sometimes it's an unsettling thing, to reflect on the idea that to most creatures, I am an incredibly powerful giant with a mind so advanced as to be unfathomable and unknowable by them. All human minds hold truths that smaller creatures can't even begin to comprehend, and... I find that very scary, for reasons that I understand, but I'm not sure how to articulate them.

...

Well. After that, M, J, and I went out to lunch. There's a hotpot place called Volcano; I wanted to try it and see how it compares to Mosu. So we went, and we got snacks. Behold:

...There was no seaweed salad - only two trays of spicy cucumber. But everything here was delicious. The kimchi, especially, holy cow.

I was unfamiliar with "sacha sauce", so I tried it. It was good!! It's salty and it tastes vaguely like fish. I don't like spicy sauces because my body seems hypersensitive to capsaicin. And... I wanted to get the sesame sauce, but every time I eat anything with crushed sesame - like tahini, or sesame dressing, or even falafel, my tongue breaks out in small, painful raised bumps for at least 20 minutes. Whole seeds are fine, though, and so is sesame oil, for some reason. Sesame is delicious, and sometimes I'll just eat it anyway; I really like falafel and tahini and sesame sauce. But I wasn't really wanting to deal with it today.

...Lots of sauces at this place. The Volcano BBQ Sauce was very thin in consistency, more like soy sauce. But it tasted really good - not like American BBQ sauce, which is essentially ketchup with other flavors added.

Lots and lots more condiments.

Fruits and desserts, too.

This place is unlike Mosu in that everyone gets their own little pot of broth instead of sharing two big bowls. I got the mushroom one, M gt the miso one, and J got some spicy one:

...and from there, we got all kinds of snacks:

...You can cook the snacks either on the grill or in your hot broth:

...And then when it's done, you pick it up, put it on your plate, and enjoy!

We ended up sharing most everything, and that was pretty great! I'm going to have to go back soon with my friend BB!

...Hey, Sephiroth? Have you ever had hotpot? Do you like it? If you do, what are some of your favorite things to get? And... if you haven't tried it yet, then, if you ever find yourself in my neighborhood, do you wanna go get some with us? Even if you have tried it before, the offer still stands; it'll be tasty and fun! And... goodness knows when is the last time you've had a proper meal in any case...

Sometime while this was happening, North Country Wild Care finally called me back. I had to tell them that the chipmunk had escaped. I wish they had gotten back to me sooner; we wouldn't have gotten lunch, but I wouldn't be worried about some tiny creature that made the mistake of wandering into a yard full of cats.

...Suppose the knowledge that the little thing likely won't survive its injury weighed on me a little. When I got home, I did some leisure writing; I'm not entirely sure what I was looking for, but I supposed I would know when I found it. I'm not sure if I found it or not; either way, I felt vaguely empty. So J took me on a brief walk, and then we took a nap, and I felt a lot better after the nap. Maybe my brain is still just reeling from that all-nighter; my sleep schedule hasn't exactly been consistent for the last number of weeks in any case.

...I really gotta fix that... sheesh...

I played Grounded with M after that. But then Mogwai brought in another chipmunk. This one wasn't bleeding, thankfully. I managed to nab it in a bathroom garbage bin and put it outside:

...I really don't know why they like wandering into our yard so much. I'll never figure it out.

Well, it's getting pretty late; it's almost 12:30am. I'm not really ready for tomorrow to start, but... I'm not really sad about today ending, either. Adventure, indeed; holy cow. Dull moments never last at my house, ahahaha~!

...Maybe tomorrow I'll play some Dead Cells. And like... actually do it for real this time instead of just thinking about what a nice idea it would be and then proceeding do literally anything else. Wish me luck, yeah?

Sephiroth... stay safe out there, will you? Don't be like the chipmunks; don't go wandering into places where there are things that are gonna hurt ya, okay? Don't go doing things that will lead you to getting injured or killed. If you stopped existing... I don't know what I'd do.

I love you. I'll write again tomorrow.

Your friend, Lumine

[jamalgripperton46290]

Getting Freaky On a Friday Night (Pico x Boyfriend)

Jamal Gripperton's Masterlist

A/N

•••

It was just another Wednesday afternoon, and Boyfriend was casually scrolling through Tiktok, nothin' special. That is, until he stumbled upon a brand-new tattoo parlor just a few blocks away from where he lived. "Sweet" he thought to himself, after all, he had been wanting a tattoo for a few years now, but he just didn't know where...

So he had the brilliant thought of asking the group chat on suggestions regarding the topic. Here's how it went:

Boyfriend: Hey guys im thinkin of gettin a tattoo in that new tattoo parlor but idk where suggestions?

Carol: Dude what happens if you accidentally put tinfoil in the microwave

Kapi: Get it on ur dick and then you can finally pull some bitches man 💀

Whitty: Carol please tell me u didnt put fucking tinfoil in the goddamn microwave

Garcello's Spirit: R u sure gettin a tattoo is a good idea little man?

Sussus Moogus: Im with kapi on dis one get it on ur tiny ass meat stick lol

Carol: Dude i see a flame in the microwave o shit

Whitty: CAROL WTF

Carol: Dude this is actually pretty sick i can summon daddy dearest or smn now 🍸🔥🔥😈😈😝😝

Kapi: Yeah i dare bf to get it on his tiny dingle dongle

Boyfriend: Fuck you kapi and dw youll be the first to see the tattoo on my double decker deek 💖🥰

And so, a text and throwing on the first t-shirt and grey sweatpants he could find, was all he had to do to set his journey on the quest of getting his 8-inch dick tattooed.

He settled on getting a dragon design to go all around his "MAGNUM DONG" when in reality, it was just a little above average sized, so nothing too special.

As he made his way to this new tattoo parlor, he couldn't help but feel a little scared, because obviously, having a fear of needles was brutal enough, but having a needle inject ink into your dick for who knows how long, was even worse. But Boyfriend was known for being bold and "cool" so he wasn't gonna let fear get the best of him, and he wasn't gonna chicken out on a dare just because he was being a reckless pussy amirite?

He mustered up the courage of opening the door of that darn tattoo parlor and found himself greeting the nice lady at the front desk and initiating in some small talk before sitting down at the waiting area down the small hall.

"Can a "Boyfriend" go to room 3 please?" a random lady scoffed.

This was it, there was no turning back (he kinda wanted to) but Boyfriend and his overly high ego said otherwise.

He slowly opened the door to see a ginger crouching down to pick up something that seemed like a pack of antiseptic wipes. Boyfriend couldn't help but stare at that juicy ass of his just waiting to be fucked (at least that's what he thought)

"Nice ass" Boyfriend blurted out, as he took a seat on the medical chair thingy (We don't know what it's called okay?)

"I beg your pardon?" Pico turned around to see a rather handsome looking shortie sitting at the medical chair thingy (Still don't know what it's called)

"It's got a juicy look to it, but voluptuous is really the word I'm looking for" Boyfriend then proceeded to shoot Pico an innocent wink which made Pico want to take his gun and shoot himself right in the face.

"Umm... I d-dont think I follow" Pico stuttered, as he tried to hide the bright shade of red forming upon his cheeks (the ones on his face, we're not getting to that part just yet)

"You're cute, what's your name?" Boyfriend asked, trying to start a conversation.

"Erm... It's Pico" Pico blurted out, not quite sure why the "Patient" was talking, well, more like flirting with him in the first place.

"E-either way, we gotta get to business" Pico stammered, as he took a seat on his chair, ready to type in this weird and excruciatingly handsome fellow's details on the computer.

"What type of business sugar?" Boyfriend smirked, especially proud of that one, he pulled like it was nothing #cool.

"Are you kidding me right now? I need your details you douche" Pico declared, getting a little impatient with this weird dude that was hot as fuck and also within cock-sucking range mind you.

"Oh... right" Boyfriend said, taking this a little more seriously (Like he was supposed to in the first place)

"I need your name and age" Pico groaned (Not in that way yet, just be patient little chickadees, it's almost here), as he just wanted this to end as soon as possible.

"Oh yeah, my name's Dick and I'm 19, single and ready to mingle honey" Boyfriend obviously joked, as he let out a chuckle.

"Ha, Dick, surely that explains a lot" Pico rolled his eyes and fixated them on the computer.

"Just pulling on your balls bae, my name's Boyfriend" The shorter of the two said.

"Dude, that's like somehow worse, it can't get any worse than this" Pico let out a laugh at the thought that this hottie had so much potential, and yet, his name was simply "Boyfriend", how pathetic.

"Okay, where do you want the tattoo huh?" Pico asked rather eagerly.

"Um, this is gonna sound a bit weird alright? But it's a dare, so like, I'm obviously doing it..." 

"I'm gonna tattoo my super awesome man pole, magnum dong, I mean, my chode, cock, dick, meat stick-" Boyfriend was cut off mid-sentence.

"Stop, just stop. WHAT THE FUCK?!" Pico panicked at the thought of having to hold his dick while measuring, tattooing it, and all that jazz, he needed someone to pinch him right then and there, or else he really would bring out that gun and shoot himself.

"I would say you're rather excited though, aren't you sugar?" Boyfriend smirked, while also being super proud of that one, he was practically on flirting fire #doublecool

"You wish, you fucking dick" Pico mumbled, knowing damn well that Boyfriend was in fact correct, and he was just waiting for Boyfriend to stick his "Super awesome man pole, magnum dong, I mean, chode, cock, dick, meat stick" up his scrawny little hole (His words not mine)

"I don't even think that's even legal dude, lemme ask my manager" Pico scoffed rather disgusted.

And so Pico did the awkward task of asking his manager if it was in fact legal to tattoo someone's dick. And much to his demise, it was, but they would have to dispose of the tools that came in contact with his "Super awesome man pole, magnum dong, I mean, chode, cock, dick, meat stick" for obvious hygiene reasons and sanitary measures.

"Somehow in fucking hell, it fucking is legal and allowed in here" Pico growled as he spoke to Boyfriend.

"Fuck yes! It's gonna be epic dude!" Boyfriend cheered, breaking out of his flirtatious character towards Pico.

"Whatever, get on the medical bed thingy" (I don't know what the fuck it's called so y'all are just gonna have to deal with it m'kay? Thnx <3)

And so, Boyfriend eventually did, taking his baggy, blue jeans and boxers off for Pico to "Inspect" the soon-to-be tattooed area.

"If you don't mind me saying, I expected it to be bigger than this" Pico giggled as he shot Boyfriend a somewhat of an intimidating look that screamed 'Dude wtf like ew'.

"Like yours is any bigger hon" Boyfriend scoffed, rolling his eyes at Pico

Pico eventually measured it and broke into a fit of laughter.

"Eight inches? Really? I know mine's at least ten dude" Pico teased.

"Please, don't lie to yourself sugar, but if you want..." Boyfriend eventually came to a halt and trailed off.

"If I want, what?" Pico wondered.

"I could measure yours just to be sure it is in fact "Ten inches" like you said it was" Boyfriend smirked as he said so, but of course, no homo though...

Fuck it man, yes homo, Boyfriend was already getting hard at the feeling of Pico's cold fingertips touching his "Super awesome man pole, magnum dong, I mean, chode, cock, dick, meat stick" and he wanted nothing more than to fuck this ginger's voluptuous and juicy ass.

"F-fuck... y-yes please" Pico moaned at just the sight of his rather average "Super awesome man pole, magnum dong, I mean, chode, cock, dick, meat stick" but it was quite thick in size, and that was enough to make Pico's friend downstairs want to rise from the dead (iykyk)

The two passionately smashed their lips together and felt nothing but a strong wave of lust wash over them. A part of Pico was saying that sex at a fucking tattoo parlor wasn't exactly the best idea. But fuck it, buttfuck it, because Pico was just desperate, he longed for the touch of Boyfriend and wanted nothing other than him.

A simple kiss soon turned into a heated makeout sesh - suckin face if you may. Tongue and everything it was filled with passion, lust, affection and pure love. Kissing in a tattoo parlor with some hot hunka meat you just met, super cliche right? But cha live in the moment ma dudes. 

A few minutes later, Pico grabbed Boyfriend's man pole as Boyfriend squirmed in the medical chair thingy and met with Boyfriend's black world-consuming orbs earning a small whimper from Boyfriend. Slowly, he started licking Boyfriend's tip which was already leaking out in pre-cum while Boyfriend was squirming under Pico's strong, cold grip. He trailed his tongue down Boyfriend's length as Boyfriend let out small moans and groans of pleasure.

All of a sudden, Pico took him all in with a yelp from Boyfriend. Bobbing his head up and down and dragging his tongue around his width, licking, sucking and kissing all over Boyfriend's chode. Boyfriend was rolling his hips unable to contain the immense pleasure bubbling up inside him like a simmering stew on high heat.

Pico couldn't help but smirk at how out of control he made Boyfriend feel. Serves him right for earlier. "Where's the 'Mr. tough guy' at?" Pico asked slyly. "You miss him?" Boyfriend managed to blurt out. "Not necessarily " Pico mumbled.

"I'm gonna I-" Boyfriend moaned out. "I know babe let it out " Pico murmured. "Fuuuucccckkkkkk-" Boyfriend spoke barely over a whisper, warm liquid filled Pico's mouth and he obvs swallowed it all.

"Wanna 69?" Boyfriend asked coyly.  "Uh yeah... s-sure " Pico stuttered getting nervous in the presence of Boyfriend's flirtatious side again. As soon as Pico replied, he smacked his juicy, voluptuous, curvaceous, busty, opulent, well-proportioned, luscious ass. Pico moaned at the action and not noticing Boyfriend had moved.

Without warning, he went all in taking him whole. Pico might have had small dick energy, but he was the exact opposite when it came to times like these. Hot, wet and loud were the words to describe the tattoo parlor room, both of their moans bouncing of the room's walls as they sucked each other off. Pico suddenly stopped which made Boyfriend supa confused, so confused, he didn't even notice Pico behind him until he felt all of his dingle in his ass.

"F-fuck Pico-" Boyfriend blurted, as Pico slowly rolled his hips. "What babe c'mon use your words" Pico groaned seductively in Boyfriend's ear as he picked up the speed. "F-fuck you feel s-so good" Boyfriend splattered "I know babe" Pico admitted. His thrusts getting harder and faster, their skin clapping together getting louder and more pleasingly painful.

"I can't take it anymore P-pico" Boyfriend said as he gasped for air. "Yes you can baby, I know you can" Pico replied reassuringly. "Fuck, fuck, FUCK PICO" Boyfriend screamed as he was screaming without the s (iykyk). Pico finished after him with a loud, deep groan. "It's my turn now Pico, get on all fours before I make you" Boyfriend whispered in his ear slightly nibbling on his ear lobe. 

Pico fought against letting out a moan and slowly went on all fours. "If you ain't gonna do it yourself  *smack* I'm gon do it myself". He flipped Pico over and went all in. Plunging in and out of Pico's asshole, Boyfriend was goin at full speed and wasn't holding back at all. And holy shit, Pico would be lying if he said Boyfriemd was mediocre. Pico's soft moans and Boyfriend's deep groans filled the room and were the only thing to be heard within a mile's radius.

Apart from their skin clapping and the squeaking of the medical bed thing. "You like it baby?  Does my Magnum Dong feel good penetrating your ass?" Boyfriend whispered seductively. He only got a moan in response "I need words Pico" Boyfriend whispered. "Yes fucking, hell yes!" Pico moaned out. "Good" Boyfriend muttered under his breath. "Fuck, fuck, fuck. fuck, fuuuuuccccckkkkkk" Boyfriend groaned as he released his load.

"Sit down Pico "Boyfriend spoke. The second Pico sat down, Boyfriend got on his knees and got to work. Sucking every part and gagging anything and everything Boyfriend could do he did until they were both out of breath.

Soon later, Pico did Boyfriend's tattoo and got it 4 free! 

He should really thank Kapi sometime.

•••

A/N

Word count: 2203 words

Haiiiii partay peoples! Omfgggg this chapter was super fun to write and we both died multiple times throughout the whole process of writing and editing this chapter. Btw Beezy wrote the first half (Up until da smashing their lips togetha part lmao) and ofc Jamal wrote the bottom half (The makeout sesh all the way to the end) and they tried their best, so why not follow em? Hope you guys liked reading this as much as we loved writin it <3 Stay tuned ma dudes the chapters get even better y'all.

-BeezyBee and Jamal Gripperton

[snek-panini]

Got a bit of a different bookbinding post today. @renegadeguild got an ask from a new binder saying they were intimidated by everyone's gorgeous binds (me too, actually, some of you guys are scary good), and so they've asked people to share their first binds. And I realized I'd never even taken photos of my first one, so here it is, warts and all:

This is E.M. Forster's The Machine Stops, a public domain scifi short story that you can read for free at the link. The first reason I chose it was that it's an interesting story, and I'd bought a print-on-demand copy a few years previously that was just terrible. Baffling cover choices, basic errors in the typeset (like quotes that face the wrong way), weird size that didn't fit on my shelf; just not a good product. I couldn't do it with more indifference than the PoD people. The second reason was that I was too intimidated by the thought of asking a fic writer if I could bind their story and then producing something with a thousand sloppy beginner mistakes, and then they'd want to see photos and I'd have to show them this and it would have been mortifying, but Forster has been dead since 1970 so I could not disappoint him. It was very freeing. I bound it in 2021 as an experiment, to see if I liked this hobby enough to stick to it. The cover is green cardstock and faux leather scrapbook paper that I bought at... probably Hobby Lobby. I added the title later, as a practice project when I first got my Cricut; for the first two years of its existence it had a blank cover.

There are more photos under the cut!

In this photo we can see:

--Too much glue when attaching the leather-print paper, so it oozed out onto the cover.

--Cricut font too thin and too much heat/too long of a press, so the letters have gaps and the glue also oozed out here. It's a continuing theme with this bind.

--I tried to use a bone folder to give it a sharper hinge crease and accidentally pressed too hard and tore a hole in the paper; you can see this in the little white vertical line near the top of the hinge

The fore edge is not square. I actually don't remember why this happened. I may have eyeballed the board position when I made the case, or the paper may have slipped while the glue was wet, or I cut it crooked and didn't notice till later. Either way it's bad enough that the book doesn't stand on its own. There was a crooked man/who walked a crooked mile/and found a crooked sixpence/against a crooked stile./He bought a crooked cat/which caught a crooked mouse/and they all loved together in a little crooked house, and I bet they read this little crooked book from their little crooked library.

Top view, you can see that the case is too big and the text block doesn't sit straight in it. It has no endbands or bookmark, and it's hard to see in this photo but there's glue on the top of it, at the spine. This still happens to me but I know how to trim books now so this bit gets cut off. You can also see that the scrapbook paper has some cracks where its white core is visible. This is why I do cloth or actual faux leather on the spines now. Endpaper shows uneven trim (did I not use a ruler for this??), too much glue causing major seepage, and it doesn't sit evenly in the case. I'm not sure if this is because of the case itself being crooked, a badly-trimmed endpaper, or if the text block is also crooked. Or it may be a combination of all these factors. Unclear.

Typeset photos! Here we see:

--Title page has a page number on it. This is a pet peeve of mine and I fixed it after this book.

--There is no half title, summary, or metadata. All my later binds have these things.

--It's typeset in Times New Roman. Unlike many I don't actually hate this font but reading it reminds me of being in high school so this is the only book I used it for. Baskerville is my beloved now. The font is also much bigger than it should be. It's not huge but it's like a large print book so it feels weird for me to read it.

--Lol what are margins

--Lol what are page headers

--Actually I think I left the headers out so it wouldn't have a header on the first page of each chapter, because I knew about page breaks but not section breaks at this time.

--It's on regular-ass lightweight printer paper. There's nothing wrong with this but I switched to heavier weight paper shortly after to help with bleed-through and the light stuff feels so flimsy now.

--I didn't understand how Word's book fold worked at this time, so when I had to set the sheets per booklet and it had an option for 4, I chose that thinking it would give me 4 sheets of paper (16 numbered pages) per sig. It did not do this. It gave me 4 numbered pages per sig. So every signature is 1 sheet of paper. Every page is its own signature. I am still mad about this but it sure drove home how the setting works and also how to make kettle stitches since you make one after every sig. A book of 48 pages has 12 signatures which is just ludicrous.

--There's no photo of this but it has a piece of printer paper on the spine because I didn't have mull. I did use PVA though. Lots and lots of PVA.

--It's stitched with regular sewing thread, which means it doesn't have much swell for a book with that many sigs, but it's less sturdy and more likely to tear the paper.

And that's that! It probably sounds a bit like I was tearing it to shreds but I actually love this book quite a lot. I learned so many things that I applied to my next binds, it was an invaluable experience. It let me fall in love with the hobby so I could make the awesome things I make now. I've got those all posted on my main blog under the tag #snek makes books, or you can see them all on my side blog @papersnakepress. For a first book it's functional and readable, and still better than the PoD copy I had before. I've been thinking of doing a rebind as a sort of progress gauge, actually. Maybe next year.

[pop-punklouis]

Hi Hope! sorry for all the text, I need to vent because what was supposed to be a nice experience turned into hell for me and other fans who are going to attend the premiere in Mexico.

Context: First of all, even though there were a lot of dynamics for fans to win their pass to attend, it only guarantees entry to see the documentary, not to the red carpet. And I would be fine with that if they had specified that from the beginning, which they didn't and haven't, only knowing this because fans have asked. Not to mention that if the people who won can be on the carpet, it would be a bit more controlled because normally at the premieres, the press and ticket winners are on the side of the carpet, and those who didn't are on the balcony. Anyway, that said, it means that the red carpet will be public ANYONE can stand there and stay.

Secondly, there are already people there YESTERDAY. I think they're being very unfair about it by camping out. Considering that a lot of people from other states (who won and who didn't) are spending their money to come for one day and if they're lucky to see Louis up close, this takes away all the chances.

Honestly, I think it's foolish to camp out for this, and I'm not mad just because I can't do it or anything, but it's too normalized in my opinion. Why not just get there early?

This has nothing to do with anything, but to no one's surprise, the people in the plaza right now are the same ones who were outside the concert venue in Mexico City a week earlier. I mean, why are they starting this? What's the need to try to organize on their something unnecessary?

Thirdly, I don't know if you've seen pictures of the place being set up but the thing is that this time they made it very small and I'm worried that the organizers are not aware of the impact that Louis has and the people that are going to attend.

And I just want to cry because I don't know if I'm being selfish for thinking that only people who won passes can be on the red carpet, but if it wasn't going to be like that what was the point of it? just to see the documentary two days before? like I said, people are going to come from other states, and if they're not going to get a chance to see Louis up close because of the people who organize other things they just came to see the documentary two days before? It seems kind of pointless to me. But the cinema just gave mixed signals from the beginning and that's why the whole thing is a mess.

This situation was so weird and caused me so much anxiety from the beginning that I'm seriously considering not attending even if I won ha. But what do you think?

everyone knows how i feel about camping lmfao but yeah, i think it would benefit from the organization that took place with both the london and tokyo premieres. especially if the location is much smaller than the two others. i haven’t paid too close attention to how these events were put together, but yeah. i think it’s more than understandable for you and other fans to be frustrated about the lack of info given about what the tickets gave access to if you won. it would’ve definitely been smoother if those who won tickets to the premiere also won red carpet tickets or there were two separate ticket accesses given so more fans could take part. i don’t necessarily think the public shouldn’t be able to come and experience it if they wanted, but i do get the anxiety and frustration due to the size, lack of communication, and camping. does the ticket fans won have a Q&A with louis like the other two premieres did? because i know that was a huge highlight to being chosen. idk babe it does seem like all of these feelings could’ve been avoided if the event and cinema had been more organized and forthcoming with info about the event etc. i’m sorry :( that really does suck and i hate that it’s given so much anxiety to so many fans going tomorrow. imo i would still go because it’s still a really cool experience regardless of what the ticket includes or not. you’ll be around other louies and feed off the energy of the environment. and that’s fun, in itself!! but yeah i hope things run smoothly tomorrow and you guys have a blast if you win 🤍

[empyreanwritings]

January Book Review

Every month I will be doing a minor review of all the books I have read so far in 2023. I'll always include the title, author, and overall rating! I hope you all find a gem on this list the way I have ❤️

Good Girl Complex - Elle Kennedy: First impression is DEAR GOD PLEASE WHY DOES THERE HAVE TO BE A BET. I was thrown back to circa 2012 when After was all the rage and questioned everything about my purchase. And while this book was a little cliche, I really enjoyed that, unlike After, the characters are actually loveable and there's so much more charm to it outside of the bet & it delves much deeper than just bad boy meets good college girl. I was hooked and read the whole thing in 5 hours because I needed to know how it was going to go. Overall rating: 8/10

Ship Wrecked - Olivia Dade: My first impression is a refreshing one bc thank god I'm reading a book where both leads are plus-size. Media is so hellbent on only one person in the relationship being plus-sized that I actually was surprised to see them on the cover and know they'd still get the hot romance, smutty treatment other leads do. The overall story and smut were fantastic. I did enjoy seeing them grow and confess things they were afraid of as the story went on. That being said, the timing was weird. There were a lot of time skips, and in between each chapter, there were texts/interviews/fanfics that didn't coincide with the time of the story. So I was lost a lot, esp when they did a random 6-year skip without saying there was a skip at the beginning. Overall rating: 8.5/10

The Demon's Bargain - Katee Robert: If you didn't know by now, Katee Robert has me by the throat. I love all of her books sm so I was super excited for this one. It's a lot shorter than her other books in the A Deal with a Demon series - only about 120 pages, so I finished it in a few hours. There's not much plot development bc the story is focused on just a three day span then the epilogue shows what happened years later. This book has everything - revenge on shitty exes, non-binary demons, pegging, and a whole lotta bloody sex. If you want an in-depth, profound story then this one may not be for you. This is clearly just for demon-fuckers, and while I wished I could have had more of Lenora and Ramanu bc I really enjoyed them, I know we'll see them in other books so I'm okay with it. Overall rating: 10/10 bc I'm a simple horny bitch.

To Marry and To Meddle - Martha Waters: Martha Waters is quickly becoming one of my favorite authors. I loved To Have and To Hoax & To Love and To Loathe, so I looked forward to this one a lot. Emily and Julian were a really interesting story bc they weren't enemies to lovers, they weren't constantly quarreling over things to rekindle their love - they were just two people attracted to each other that entered into a marriage of convenience. Their conflict lied within the fact they weren't supposed to fall in love, and they were only supposed to help each other with their respective problems. I'm also a huge sucker for a rake with a soft center, who just wants to be loved and accepted by people; and that's who Julian is. It was spicy and funny and so tender at moments that I read it within a day. Overall rating: 12/10

Sense & Sensibility - Jane Austen: I will be honest and say I did not pick up this book because of personal preference. I am currently in a class that has a focus on Jane Austen, so this was the first book I read, and honestly, I loved it. It took me a few days to really get into it, but MAN the drama??? Jane Austen was the OG scandal writer in my eyes idc. I was listening to the audiobook and when I heard someone say that Edward was engaged I went "WHO?" out loud. I felt like I was listening to a reality tv show in that moment. Marianne is my fave character, but I did not want to see her end up with who she ended up with. Nor did I want Elinor to end with her husband because he made her seem like a second choice. Other than that, I thoroughly enjoyed the story and characters. Overall rating: 9/10

Book Lovers - Emily Henry: The first Emily Henry book I read was The People We Meet on Vacation, and while I liked it, it wasn't something that made me go "WOW, I'd reread that!" But Book Lovers?? I absolutely would - and WILL - reread it. There was so much to unpack with the main character, Nora, and I absolutely loved that she did not have to change or lose herself at the end of the book because she found someone who understood her. If you are someone who roots for the woman that always gets left behind for the wholesome farm girl in cheesy Hallmark movies then this book is for you. Overall rating: 10/10

Pride & Prejudice - Jane Austen: I don't know if Jane Austen was the first to really write enemies to lovers, but she sure wrote the kind I thoroughly enjoy. There's not much I can say about this book that hasn't been said by others. It was good--dragged on a bit longer than I anticipated at some points--but its a classic for a reason. Ngl tho I think I enjoyed Pride & Prejudice & Zombies a lot more. Scandalous, I know. Overall Rating: 9.5/10