that was my dinner for the night

Warped Cosmology

the series read as follows:

SupermanMondayCheezy PouffsBaconStumblingTrail Mix …  PunchFridayPreparationUncle MudlerNormalBackseatMudler-senseThe FBIUnthinkablePatienceElephant JokesCooking Rickety TablesMr. SkimmerBert and ErnieMidnight ConfessionsThe MoonBright SunshineGraying SkiesDarkened NightPossibilitiesA Thing with You … Humming and Thrumming

@today-in-fic

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He let her sleep, disappearing at dawn for a run, then sneaking quietly about the apartment, showering, eating, dressing, leaving again, this time with a note stating he’d be back by noon or before or after, depending on sun angles and Sno-Cone sale prices.

She found said note around 8:45am and promptly returned to bed, amused by how amused she was in her present situation. She’d never woken up in his bed, alone, with his note stating where he was and she’s sure as hell never crawled back into his bed to stretch luxuriously, surrounded by Mulderness and wrinkled sheets. Head nested perfectly in the pillow, she studied his ceiling, then his walls, the windows, curtains, blinds, dresser, mirror, shelves, shoes and map.

She was also naked.

That was possibly the best part.

She was naked and warm and cozy and had absolutely nowhere to go and nothing to do.

And she was in Mulder’s bed.

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I was looking up stock photos (as one does) and I found this adorable butch femme couple in the heat of an argument

Ok obviously they are both arguing about the theme of the dinner party they are going to

While our butch thinks the party is more formal our fem thinks its more casual,

She is getting upset because this is the first party that they have gone to in months and doesn’t want to mess up their night!

“We will have a good time out if you stop worrying about your butch aesthetic!”

“Well sorry if I wanna look fly as fuck for my girl!”

our femme realizes how frustrated she is and also loves how her girlfriend still likes to look nice for her.

in the end they agree that they both look cute and go to the small dinner party that their friends invited them too (it was a casual party but femme really liked how butch looked so it doesn’t matter)

Baekhyun scenario - (play)boy next door (1/2)

requested by @byunshim

genre: ANGST (for Baekhyun)

Featuring Chanyeol (fluff for him)

summary: Having a crush on your young wealthy neighbor, Baekhyun, is something you could never admit. His weekend parties have always sparked your interest but your studious state of mind bolds you back until your gorgeous friends come back to town and Baekhyun suddenly notices a reason to invite you. But is worth it?

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7

6:52pm

it’s our one year anniversary today. anniversaries used to leave a bad taste in my mouth and made me shudder at the thought of them. they always ended in stupid fights and better yet, break-ups. this anniversary with Luna, though, i see no end like such with her tonight. this girl, is truly the greatest love of my life. and i make no question about it despite what seems like a short time together to others. 

i wanted to make this really special, and while i don’t deny my past bad experiences with anniversaries being partly my fault because i was shamefully underprepared— i wanted to make this time different. she deserves this, after all…

i took the night off work, and thank god our anniversary landed on a friday, because as much as i love the shit i do, friday’s suck at work. so damn busy. but that’s besides the point.

i attempted to make the most romantic candlelit dinner at home for the two of us and channel my inner gordon ramsay and throw down on the meanest steak dinner she’d ever have in her life. we’re both home bodies and much prefer to stay the night in, rather indulge ourselves in the noise the city life brings. so to me this was the best way to celebrate.

i check my watch and sweat begins to accumulate around my hairline as the hands tick to read seven o’ clock. she is bound to come in any minute now. i frantically make the finishing touches to my table set-up, and oddly spend way too much time readjusting how the flowers should look like. she loves, and i emphasize, loves flowers, and i know she’d love these. i smile thinking about her reaction, but it quickly fades to complete nervousness as i hear the keys on the other side of the front door rattle and the door swings open. “Mi, i’m home.”

i see her shadow creep around the door as i stay quiet, attempting to pry her with the trail of petals i laid out on the floor and also what i hope smells like some delicious steak in the kitchen area. i lose track of her shadow and her steps become inaudible, i swear she has the lightest feet. i look down and readjust my stance while smoothing out my nicely tucked in button-up; preparing myself for her entrance.

“Mi? are you in there? w-what are these petals on the floor for?” Luna’s shadow reappears in my field of vision and i see the beauty that she is grace right in front of my two eyes. i smile from ear to ear, gesturing my hands both wide open to greet her, “happy anniversary, baby,” i say proudly.

i make my way towards her direction and she can’t help but smile too and her face floods with the color pink. she covers her face in utter embarrassment and groans, “Mi, oh my god, you did th—“ before she could finish i lifted her off her feet and carried her unto my arms, planting the kiss i had waited all day to do. i press my lips hard onto hers and feel a smile coming from her lips. i let go, looking into her tear-filled eyes. beautiful woman. my beautiful woman. i smile again, and playfully attack her sweet face with small pecks and carry her to her seat at the dinner table.

[ - previous - next - ]

With only the stars to guide him, Yuuri visits the shore one evening. Bundled in a dinner vest. Clothes he could’ve worn to a work party, but he decided to visit the beach instead. Glass of champagne perched near his lips. He wonders if Viktor’s out on a night like this. Looking up to the same moon? The same stars? Yuuri never realized how pretty the stars were until he was alone. The ocean breeze combs through his hair, and Yuuri’s lips part from the champagne glass.

All he could hear were the waves, coming up close but not close enough. The water barely grazed his shoes, and Yuuri didn’t step back. Was he not scared? Even with alcohol in his blood, Yuuri wasn’t stupid enough to step forward. He simply stood, grounded to where he was. In a silence that would only break because of a scream, but he didn’t. Yuuri whistled. A few, fluttering chirps before he heard a splash from somewhere in the darkness.

It was Viktor, it was always Viktor.

It was always Viktor because Yuuri wouldn’t know why he’d be here at the beach, alone with alcohol thumping against his ear. It was always Viktor because he rarely turned a shy eye when Yuuri needed him the most. It was always Viktor, and Yuuri hated it.

He couldn’t give anything in return. He was always bound to obligations, shackled around the neck with expectations. And Viktor, Viktor had none. He was free to roam wherever he pleased, yet he chained himself to this one beach for Yuuri’s sake.

Sometimes, Yuuri wanted to say, “Viktor, you don’t have to see me anymore.”

“You don’t have to give me gifts.”

“You don’t have to waste your life on me.”

“Please, be yourself.”

But how could Yuuri could say any of those things when Viktor poked his head up from the water and flashed him a toothy grin. Pure bliss, an unfailing joy because Yuuri was special to Viktor, and the fact always reeled him back to the shore. Where he saw Yuuri and widened his eyes, wondering why they were meeting again when it wasn’t morning yet.

Yuuri had an answer, but he didn’t want to say.

2

I run a half marathon tomorrow. I’m totally freaking out. I have had some gross allergies for 2 weeks plus took a vacation from even walking 10k steps per day. Ugh why? But I made a yummy dinner last night with leftovers for tonight. I laid out all my stuff.

Wish me luck because I will need it! There’s a huge hill at mile 9 and a 15 min/mile time limit so here’s to just crossing the finish line!

Selfies

My bf came over to my house last night, we went up to my room. My mom was gone so I pulled him on to the bed and we started making out. I broke the kisses and talked to him about Bossy, how she wants to know if we’re going out for dinner again on Friday and how much I know he wants to, how much he wants be with her. I felt for hard he was as I undid his pants, pulling his cock out and started sucking him. I had my phone out and started snapping selfies, first with his dick next to my face then with just my lips wrapped around the head. He asked me what I was doing. I told him I wanted a few selfies with his cock. He just laughed and said ok, them took my phone and started taking pics. Told me to smile around his cock, them eyes up as I took as much of him as deep in my mouth as I could go.. he called me his cock sucking gf, then added that he bets Bossy was better at it than I was. I struggled to take in all of him, but finally did and he snapped a few more pics me, before I had to pull off gagging. He laughed and then told me if wanted to keep him I’d better get use to taking him into my throat. Laughed again and said because you don’t have much else to offer.. them added, in comparison to Bossy that is. I started to suck him again, using my hand and mouth .. as he talked about Bossy’s great tits and how I was basically titless.. and how he remember that the girls in high school would call me that. I worked his cock hard as he repeated “titless wonder”. It didn’t take long and he filled my mouth with his cum. I pulled off his cock and he snapped a few more pics with a string of cum from his cock to my mouth..

I just hope Bossy loves them as much is I loved getting them.


Sent from my iPad

2

@armsintheair tagged me for a lock screen, a selfie, and the last song I listened to! Thanks, pal!

1) Wearing a shirt that never used to fit me, and now it’s almost too big. Guess 30 pounds makes a difference! Also, just want to point out that you can see an actual clavicle indent on that one side there. I still have one weird undereye wrinkle, though, and I want to point that out so you don’t think I’m full of myself about the clavicle. 😆

2) My lock screen is a picture I took in Paris earlier this year! We had no idea the Eiffel Tower puts on a light show on the hour, but we just happened to catch it at the exact right time after dinner one night. PARIS IS EVERYTHING YOU WANT IT TO BE AND MORE. Sorry for the yelling; I just really loved it.

3) I don’t want this to be the last song I listened to, but it randomly got stuck in my head the other day, and I listened to it yesterday to try to kill off the ear worm. 

I tag my top four on the activity charts and some of my all-around favorite people @westcoaststartinganew, @lchfjourney, @meishamodifying, and @losingitinvirginia!

I’m workin on a thing. (bad) attempt at historical fic below


Yuri stomps across the  floor, and Otabek can feel the clank of every pint glass, and every bottle in the place rattle his bones and jerk him into the strange world of semi-lucidity in which this boy exists. He invades Otabek’s space, but never touches him. “My tastes and wants are,” he claps his hands and Otabek jumps. He jerks forward, into the space of a ruddy faced woman, but he doesn’t break eye contact with Otabek for a moment, “reconed strange by folks.”

The stool scrapes across the splintered floor, and he goes through the motions so thoroughly embedded in muscle memory. Hit the chair, scoot forward, and rest his hands neatly upon the counter and wait for Kami. Otabek drums his fingers against the rough wooden counter, but not in anticipation. After all, he doesn’t drink his dinner every night like many of her regulars. No, this nervous energy stems from necessity. The meandering, uncoordinated rhythm of life is ever present in his ear, and in the base of his spine, and all he needs is the time, and the energy to decode it, find the up beat, and make music of it.

The counter is blacked with second hand smoke, and spilled beer, and the scraps of dreams smeared against the grain whenever Kami leans across the counter, her breasts spilling over the starched white shirt that she unbuttoned hours ago, and wipes up the swill that has spilled over the tops of glasses. The grains hold a great deal of secrets, which is why despite the splinters in the wood, he cannot stop himself from running his fingers against the grain. If he held a needle to it, it’d surely sing a song far  more tragic than any bard in any tavern in the city.

Kami is down the bar, ducking underneath the bar to extract pint glasses and then rapid fire resurfacing to pour drinks. She looks like a fierce automaton, designed for one purpose and one purpose only, serving Zhigule and snapping up rubles.

Otabek’s attention drifts away from his friend, across the patrons of the bar, who are scattered about the few tables playing cards and munching gingerly on whatever odds and ends of food they had with them.

The sound of guitar strings lightly strummed caress his ears and tickles down his neck, and that’s all the warning he gets before his life is irrevocably changed. Otabek turns, facing the opposite end of the bar. Three tables over, a man with near translucent platinum blonde hair strums the taut strings of a well worn, almost splintered instrument. As soon as the chords cut through the sound of the bar, the noise dissipates. Long fingers twist the tuning pegs, and in the absence of the rich notes, a gruff voice cuts in, “fuckin Victor get on with it.”

Otabek has seen and sold to numerous Stilyaga wrapped up in the hastily stitched remains of their mother’s floral curtains. He’s bumped into plenty of men in theater square dressed in ill fitting plaid shirts, sweaters with wide collars and buttons that shined of false gold promises. Until now, he’s always prided himself on never giving one a passing glance.

But this stilyaga’s gruff voice isn’t the only thing that cuts through the smoke and the noise. The way the word, “fuck” rolls off of his mouth in a slight delay of the syllables, as if he expects his mother to pop out from behind the bar and box his ears. He wears the brashest style hunter attire boldly, albeit with a dust of blush that creeps from the bridge of his nose to the plunging neckline of the shirt, which is unlike anthing he’s ever seen. Not even in the forbidden fashion magazines that he flips through in the apartments of girls whose fathers high ranks has he ever seen such a sight. The neckline is asymmetrical, plunges low like a ball gown, and clings to his skin. He cannot be more than fifteen or sixteen, too young to really know what dangerous thing that he’s advertising. Too young to ever gather the courage to act upon anything that he silently offers.

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❤🥂HAPPY FRIDAY EVERYONE!!🥂❤

Now, i don’t want to jinx anything or tempt fate, but this week has been the first time for a loooooong time that i’ve felt truly content. Happy even. Its been a good, positive week: I signed the paperwork for my new job (first perm job in 3 years), i’ve slept for at least 8 uninterrupted hours every night, i’ve been back on my healthy eating so i’m feeling alot better physically, and i just had an awesome hair cut & catch up with Abby. And, the weather is FINALLY getting properly cold, YAY! ❄☃

My pain levels are still really bad (always), but feeling alot happier mentally makes that SO much easier to deal with.

I’m now going to round off my working week with a cup of tea in bed and beans on toast for dinner. Then the weekend shall be spent binge watching The Punisher and giving my spine a rest 📺 ☕ 🛌

HAVE AN AWESOME WEEKEND EVERYONE!

I didn’t sleep at all last night (literally, tx insomnia) so when I had to make dinner I think my brain wasn’t working bc I barely even remember cooking this made up on the spot recipe

• three perogies pan fried

• one piece of cooking ham

• steamed rice with peas mixed in.

• just chuck a third of that rice in with the pan’s contents and fry it all together

• put the steamed rice in a bowl

• pile the mix of stuff on it then stir it up

• eat it in the darkness at 6 because the sun is on vacation

•??????

Deliciously Determined - Chapter 20


Recap of the last chapter

“Would you be offended if I left right this minute?” A smile lit up her face. “No.” “Thanks. Get me on the next flight to LA and clear my calendar. I need to pack a bag, make a stop. I’ll call you later.” He grinned. “Much later, if I’m lucky.” “Go get her, boss. Make her yours.”

@i-am-the-sage @jaseminedenise  @s-u-p-e-r-n-a-t-u-r-a-l-123 @anxiouslyyoursdidi @meghan12151977 @maulapaulawaula

Let me know if you want to be added or taken off the tag list.

The Thursday night dinner rush mercifully ended—after she’d botched three orders, spilled iced tea on an elderly man, tripped over a child searching for her crayons on the floor, and neglected to shut the refrigerator door after cutting a cuddling couple a piece of key lime pie. No wonder tips had been lousy. All in all, not Justyna’s best night as a waitress. Not her best night, period. Her mind lingered on Shannon, now in Seattle. He’d made love to her, helped her free her brother, saved her life, and left as suddenly as he arrived. He’d wanted her, had fun with her. But he hadn’t loved her. All along, Shannon had warned her that he wasn’t into relationships. She had listened not with her ears but her fairy-tale dreams. Now, she was back to being a pumpkin. Reality and cutting loneliness set in. Across the room, Bryden brooded in a corner booth, staring out the window, to the dimly lit parking lot. Her heart ached for him. If she’d been hurting this past week, he must feel utter torture. Justyna had known all along that falling for Shannon would only lead to heartbreak, but she’d done it anyway. Bryden had married a woman, believing he’d spend the rest of his life with her, have a family with her, only to find out she’d deceived him on every level. Sidling over to his table with a piece of coconut crème pie, Bryden’s favorite, she set the pastry in front of him. “Eat up. It’s on the house.” He turned exhausted, red-rimmed hazel eyes on her. His expression was … nothing. Empty. Void. And she didn’t buy it for a minute. She’d been staying with him all week, since her house was still in cinders. She heard him up at two in the morning, knew he’d been working long hours at the bank now that he’d been reinstated and given  Smithkins’s job as branch manager. “No thanks.” “You have to eat. You barely touched your dinner.” “Same for you.” “I’m working.” “Eat the pie.” He pushed it in her direction. She pushed it back toward him. “Can’t. Still have tables to bus and a few customers to wrap up before closing.” “It’ll wait until you get back.” Sighing, Justyna grabbed Bryden’s hand. “I know the last week has been a blur for you, and that you’re hurt and confused. But you have to eat. You have to sleep. You’ll be no good for work, for life, if you don’t.” A grim smile lifted one corner of his mouth. “You might take your own advice, little sister. Granted, I’ve been gone for a while, but purple smudges under your eyes didn’t used to be part of your look, and I never recall you not eating for entire days in the past. Or being clumsy. Though I’m sure that old guy got a thrill when you tried to pat the iced tea from his crotch.” Justyna stood and swatted her brother ’s shoulder. “Stop. I didn’t mean to. I just …” “Had your mind elsewhere.” The grin cracking his bleak face disappeared. “I hear you.” Suddenly, Bryden’s cell phone rang. With a frown, he unclipped it from his belt. “At least try the pie,” she implored. Wondering if it was Bryden’s divorce attorney again, Justyna gave him some privacy by tending to the customers who needed a coffee refill across the room. Bryden shot her an absent nod. Justyna refilled drinks and sent a curious glance at her brother. His confusion had turned to an outright scowl. He growled something low into the phone, but she couldn’t hear the words. What the heck was that about? Before she could return to his side, her boss called from the kitchen, “Justyna, can you lock the front door for the night?” “Sure, Pops. I’ll let out the customers as they’re ready to go.” With a wink, the owner and cook disappeared to his offices in the back, his nearly bald head reflecting the bright overhead light. Hand in hand, the cuddling couple left a moment later as she locked the front door and flipped the OPEN sign to read CLOSED. Her gaze lingered as they walked to their car. Justyna’s heart kicked her in the chest like Superman on steroids. She wished that could have been her with Shannon, sharing a sweet with her sweetie, holding hands, making plans … “It’s not in the cards for me, and I need to get over it,” she muttered to herself, hoisting dirty dishes off the couple’s table and scooping up her tip. The lights shut off in the kitchen. The last of her customers made their way toward the door. As she thanked them with a plastic smile and let them out, Justyna glanced back at her brother. The scowl had vanished, replaced by a low murmur and a nod. Then he flipped his phone shut. “You ’bout done here?” Bryden asked. “Let me throw these dishes in the sink and grab my stuff.” “I’ll go out and bring the car around.” “Thanks for waiting on me. Hopefully I’ll get my car out of the shop tomorrow.” “No sweat.”

Bryden leaned down, a long way, given his height, and dropped a kiss on her cheek. “Thanks for everything. I know I’ve said it before, but I wouldn’t be free if it wasn’t for you. You deserve every happiness in the world.” Smiling, she grabbed his hand. “I owed you for being such a great big brother. I’d do anything for you.” “Same here.” He squeezed her fingers and left. Justyna finished up her last-minute routine, turning off lights, grabbing her purse. “Pops,” she called to the back. “I’m gone.” “Good night,” he shouted from his office. “I’ll finish the last of the dishes and lock up behind you.” “Thanks. See you Saturday.” Justyna made her way toward the front of the restaurant. She peered out the wall of windows on her left, searching for Bryden and his car. Instead, she saw her brother leaning down to talk to someone through the window of a sleek black limousine. Who would be coming to Pop’s Coffee Stop  in a limousine, especially at closing time? Someone had to be lost. With a shrug, Justyna let herself out and rounded the corner, just as Bryden straightened away from the limo’s window and reached down to shake a hand that emerged from the gleaming car ’s dark confines. In his free hand, Bryden held a rectangular scrap of paper. “Bryden?” He whirled around. The gleam in his eyes took her aback. He wore an actual smile. A real one. What in the heck was happening here? “There’s someone here to see you,” her brother said, then walked away, heading into the dark parking lot. Before she could say a word, the back door of the limousine opened. Out stepped the last person she ever thought she’d see again. Shannon Leto. She gasped, then covered her hand with her mouth. She blinked, twice, just to make sure her eyes weren’t deceiving her. They weren’t. There he stood, all solid and real—and watching her intently. Justyna’s insides malfunctioned. She forgot how to breathe. But her heart … it pounded ninety to nothing. To say nothing of the wave of dizziness. With his dark hair spiked in its usual muss, his gently wrinkled white dress shirt rolled up over powerful forearms, and charcoal slacks molding to lean hips, he looked amazing. His gray eyes glimmered with something she couldn’t understand. How could the sight of one man make her want to faint? “Hi, Justyna.” He’d come back. He’d come back! Justyna searched Shannon’s beloved, familiar face for some sign of his feelings. If anything, he looked apprehensive. What did that mean? Nothing, likely. In fact, he looked like a man contemplating a root canal. She had to stop wishing that things would be different between them. “What … Why are you here?” she asked cautiously. “Can I talk to you? In the limo?” Justyna’s gaze trailed into the depths of the dark car. She wanted to talk to him … But to get in there, alone with the man whose most casual touch would set her head spinning? Where memories of their last limo ride together would chip away at her composure? He’d already broken her heart once and had the power to unravel the fragile mending she’d barely started. “It’s not a good idea. If you came to check on me or whatever, I … I’m all right. I heard you before you left. Don’t worry. I won’t turn stalker or anything. I won’t even call if I have another loved one in jail.” She sent him a stilted smile. Shannon didn’t laugh at her joke. “Please. Three minutes.” And after three minutes, he’d return to Seattle. Or worse, what if he just wanted another scorching weekend? Or another wild ride in the backseat? Being in his arms, burning against his skin, she’d fall deeper under his addictive, seductive spell. Her brief glimmer of hope that he could love her would die a death worthy of the worst Hollywood gore flick, and she’d be left alone to try to mend yet another  round in her heart. “Justyna,” he implored. She screwed her eyes shut. She wanted to heed that thick, rough voice. God knew she did. She’d never been good at denying the man anything, especially since realizing that she loved him. But if he’d come here with some idea to start another brief fling because they had great chemistry … “I just can’t,” she choked out. “My heart can’t take it.” Shannon winced. Then with a slow nod, he turned away. Justyna’s heart fell as he leaned into the limousine. Now he was going to leave again, this time for good. Something in her wanted to call back to him, promise him anything—everything—if he’d stay just one more night. She held her tongue. Be strong. Be determined. To her surprise, Shannon emerged from the limo again, holding something in his hands. It glimmered silver in the moonlight, but his large palms covered the object too well for her to identify it. Until he slapped a silver handcuff around first one of her wrists, then the other. She sputtered, too shocked to scream. Then he bent, wrapped his arms around her thighs, and lifted her feet from the ground, tossing her over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. “What are you doing?” she squealed, her cheek resting on his back. “Put me down!” Three steps later, she felt the limo’s smooth leather riding up underneath the short skirt of her green polyester waitress’s uniform as he settled her on the seat. Shannon tucked her into the car, climbed in after her, and slammed the door. With the flick of a button, he raised the privacy partition between them and the faceless driver. Then he turned to face her. “Justyna—” “What the hell are you doing?” “I’m kidnapping you.” “Kidnapping … Are you serious? I already told you I wouldn’t come after you and—” “That’s why I’m here,” he said softly. Justyna peered at him, trying to understand. He didn’t want her, so she wasn’t following him and that meant he had to kidnap her because … ? “If you’re here to pick up this weekend where we left off last week, I can’t do it. I’m not up for fun and games, sex for sex’s sake—” “As much as I enjoy making love to you, that’s not what I want. Scratch that,” he stopped himself. “That’s not the reason I’m here.” Frowning, she tried to decipher what he wanted, besides sex.

“I’m lost. Can you tell me what the heck you came here to say, then let me get home?” Before you break my heart again and confuse me to lunacy? Shannon said nothing for the longest minute. He just stared, his eyes seeming to trace every curve of her face. Finally, slowly,  something softened his features. “Ah, babe … I suck at words. I had a speech, but I can’t remember a damn word of it now. I just …”
He sighed. “You wouldn’t leave my head once I got back to Seattle. The harder I tried to block you out, the more you stayed with me. Your smile, your thoughtfulness, your warmth. I just couldn’t stay away.” A breath lodged itself in her chest. There went the ol’ heartbeat again, chugging away until she was sure her chest was bruised. And that pesky pixie, hope, had returned. Did he, by chance, want her for more than a fling? “What are you saying?” she whispered. He hesitated, then flipped on a muted light in the limo’s interior. “Look at the chain between your handcuffs.” At the chain … Certainly, he hadn’t come all this way to ask her for her opinion on the latest in all things bondage? Then she saw something dangling sparkle, a twinkle in the cool light of the limousine. Was that a … ? “A ring?” She jiggled her wrists until the ring turned around on the chain. “A diamond ring?” “Princess cut, set in platinum. The jeweler says it’s a great stone and a popular cut, and the setting reminded me of you, but if you don’t like it—” Like it? She loved it! Slightly whimsical with filigree around the center stone, solid without being flashy. She fell in love instantly. “Are you … ?” Justyna swallowed, her heart picking up yet more steam. “Are you  asking what I think you’re—no, that’s not possible.” Maybe this was his weird way of assuaging his conscience. Certainly, this wasn’t a proposal. It couldn’t be … could it? “I’m fucking this up.” He sighed. “I’m sorry.” He grabbed her wrists and pulled her closer. Without the use of her hands, Justyna fell off balance and onto Shannon’s broad chest. He clasped her against him, so warm, smelling so familiar and yummy, Justyna couldn’t decide whether to burrow against him or jump his bones. Listen to the man instead! Shannon grasped either side of her face and stared down, straight into her eyes. “I know I’m bad with words. I know I said a lot of stupid things before I left here last week. But since then, I realized that I’m not happy without you. I’m not whole without you. Ah, babe, I’m not perfect, and I’m sure I’ll piss you off more than once.” He swallowed. “But I love you.” Gasping, Justyna felt her eyes widen until  he was sure the lids darted over her brows. I love you, the words repeated in her head. Tears pooled in her eyes. “Shannon …” Her voice caught one hot tear tracked down her cheek. “I love you even though I thought I couldn’t. So much I think I might explode sometimes.” He tangled his fingers in her curls. “That ring means exactly what you think. Tell me I’m not too late. Say yes.” He caressed her cheek. “Marry me.” “You’re serious?” He nodded, cheeks taut, gaze decidedly nervous. “Marry me.” “You’re sure?” “Yes. Marry me.” “You’re not just teasing—” “Damn it, woman. Marry me.” Shannon wanted to marry her. Her! “That’s a romantic proposal.” “Is that a yes?” Justyna smiled through her tears. “Yes!” She pressed her lips to his. He responded enthusiastically by slanting his mouth over hers, invading the recesses of her mouth with his tongue and staying a good, long while. When he finally eased away, Justyna’s head swam and her heart floated. “I thought I’d never see you again.” “Babe, I couldn’t stay away. I didn’t know how much I needed you, how much you make me feel until I’d already left.” “You were gone more than a week.” “Just proves how stubborn I can be.” “Ain’t that the truth.” Justyna laughed, joy lighting every corner of her heart, washing away the pain of the last week and leaving her with only love. When he unscrewed a loose link in the chain between the cuffs, the ring dropped into his palm. Silently, he slipped it onto her finger. It fit perfectly, and her world felt right. “Wow, married,” she breathed. “Should we plan for a ceremony this late this summer? I think it’s too late for a June wedding, but August—” “I was thinking more like Saturday.” “What!” “Once I tap on the privacy partition, the limo will take us to the airport. I’ve chartered a plane to take us to Vegas.” Getting married in Las Vegas in two days? The idea boggled the mind. “I don’t have a dress.” “You can get one tomorrow. Regina helped me arrange a chapel, a photographer, and flowers. Your brother has a plane ticket for a flight that leaves Friday after work.” “Pretty sure of yourself, huh?” Shannon paused. “Why do you think I brought the handcuffs?” “You would have abducted me?” Wearing a grin, Shannon leaned in and planted a kiss on her lips. “Why not? It worked for us the first time.” “True.” She laughed. “Well, now that I’ve said yes, what should we do with the handcuffs?” Shannon tapped on the privacy partition and the car sped away. Then he sent her a smile infused with pure sin. “We’ll think of something.”

anonymous asked:

This is bullshit, US laws are bullshit, everything /sucks/ (School: We need you to do volunteer hours!!! // Volunteer organizations: You can't volunteer unless you're 16+. // Me: so what is the truth 🤔🤔) - a very, very, very bitter ✨

Getting volunteer hours can be pretty hard! May I suggest some places you can look:

-ask teachers if you can stay after class to help with stuff for volunteer hours
-talk to your local library
-or theatre group! They always need people to help with taking tickets and setting up costumes/set pieces/makeup/etc
-walk dogs for volunteer hours for your neighbours
-or shovel their driveways now that winter is coming
-get involved in community events like Christmas parades, charity events, cleaning up litter, etc
-stop by the senior residence and offer to run bingo night or help with dinner time

And a lot more! I got all my hours working in a library for summer reading programs, and helping with community theatre productions working the door! I hope these help a bit, I tried to think of places that don’t mind younger people.

Notes to the girl whose house I live in

by reddit user JJX2525

It took me a week to find where you keep your wifi password. A whole week! I was really worried you’d thrown it away, but lo and behold, there it was in the cutlery drawer of all places. Everything about the way you organize things confuses me. I guess because you live on your own now you just put things any old place. I know there was someone else before, I heard you talking about him on the phone. Johnny, I think? Jimmy? Anyway, I know because you said it was tough being alone. But you’re not alone, of course. You have me!

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have a nice day luigi