y'all ever write something that's so fucking good that you have to stop writing for a minute so you can just
and spend a hot minute mentally freaking out over your own writing?
no? just me? ok then
on an unrelated note chapter 5 is going great hehe >:) /j /gen
PLSSS I just want to publish everything I’ve written but I know its a bad idea. I can barely update two stories I cant keep pulling my bullshit 💀
oh? do i keep tracks of all the fics i've read for future safe-keeping so i can go back to all of it whenever i want to?
i don't know, you tell me
Some shameless advertising for my fan fictions! There's a new up, will hopefully post the next chapter at the end of the week ♡
The door opened just then, and Nikolai stood there wearing a spaghetti sauce-stained white shirt with his sleeves rolled up to his forearm, a blue apron with what appeared to be the Lantsov crest on it, and there was smoke billowing from the kitchen.
“You’re a girl, right?” Nikolai said.
“Last I checked, yes.”
“MAKE THE KITCHEN STOP YELLING AT ME.”
He grabbed her by the hand and pushed her inside, closing the door behind him. When Alina was shoved into the kitchen she wasn’t certain if she was looking at dinner or a horror movie. The whole place was covered in sauce somehow, the stove appeared to be on fire, and the smoke alarm was shrieking.
Alina took a deep breath, and sighed. “You’ve never cooked a day in your life before, have you?”
“No, not so much,” Nikolai admitted, rubbing his neck and looking at her helplessly.
“I’m going to tell you right now, for the sake of Ravka, you are never allowed to ever again.”
i am once again attempting to write both my fae jaskier au and my princess bride parody for musketeers at once.
at the moment, that means dramatically poisoning one of my least favorite characters in the musketeers (bonnaire) while jaskier is having the time of his life.
Just a note...
To say thank you for all the love and support!
Lots of new followers this last week—welcome to my coping mechanism. It’s a happy little place, do enjoy.
Also, for all the reblogs lately damn THANK YOU because reblogs are gold for us creators, you have no idea. I had a story double in comments and likes from one reblog earlier this week, so your two-seconds to hit that button can make all the difference!
My current series —Night Changes—is just about to wrap up, and then I’ll be focusing on some oneshots I have planned before launching my next series—Saviours Coffee House. Check out my WIPs to stay up with what I’m working on. If you want to see more of a specific character you need only ask!
My inbox is open for any and all comments, questions, opinions, requests, whatever, anytime! This blog brings me so much joy and anytime I interact with one of you that feeling only increases. 🤍🤍🤍 -BookishofAlder
I just finished and edited two fanfics in one night! Wooo hooo! 🥳
summary: sometimes soulmates don’t always end up with each-other, y’know?
songs you should listen too whist reading:
-> another love - Tom Odell (Spotify)
-> freehand - Novo Amour & Ed Tullet (apple)
-> somewhere only we know - cover version (apple)
“We’re not getting married are we?” You sheepishly laugh about a promise you two made years into your friendship, one that everyone has bound to make. But that laugh was to mask and make sure the tears weren’t seen as just the sadness. He laughed as well, arms wrapping into your waist, pulling you into his chest. To protect you from yourself, or to protect himself from seeing your tears- a protection from the suffering. “No.” He mumbles into your hair.
What brought on this private moment, such an intimate moment... was love. One tucked into a dark room away from the ceremony that was about to begin. A sort of love that stays put like an old birch tree the sways in wind for centuries. You two had dug yourselves too deep into the soil, not only in this friendship but in the other relationships you’ve created. He was about to get married and here you were getting tears into his luxury tux, in a closet room as guests, friends and family flooded into the building.
Everyone was shocked that when he announced engagement, it wasn’t one to you, towards your relationship. Shocked, because though they may have never seen the most intimate moments you’ve two had, they’ve seen the cracks and glimpses of you two passed out on the couch - your head on his chest and his arms wrapped around your body protectively. They’ve peaked at the way you two sway in the kitchen together while cooking, laughing and feeding each other bits and pieces of whatever is being grilled on the stove. The way you two would stare at each other, silently communicating with small smiles and laughs, with joyful glints deep inside your eyes. Shocked, because it was so obviously painful you two were soul mates, bound to each other through an invisible red silk line.
They were sure you two had slept with each other - it was true, you’ve shared secret passion-filled kisses. Always laughing after and reminding yourselves that you two are best friends. Best friends, best-friends, best-friends.
It was fear that kept you from admitting that statement that was floating in bright neon lights above your heads. They flickered slightly, just like the way these moments were about to disappear. Flickering away, dimmer and dimmer just like the love that was so bright being covered. For once, he kept his mouth sealed and opt to tuck you deeper into his body, covering you from whatever the universe was throwing at this moment. He was also bathing in your warmth, your touch, the way your quivering body wailed silently - screaming ‘I love you. I love you. I’ve always I loved you.’ And he took those screams through his hands, as he petted soft dolled up hair, wiping his rare straying tears from damping such elegance.
After all, Bokuto didn’t wanna destroy hair curled just for him, just for his wedding. The wedding you two promised you’d naively would have. The wedding that wasn’t for true love.
You wanted to sink into his chest, to be forever engulfed in his scent. So you pulled away, because you couldn’t allow yourself to drown any further. And with a big huff, tear stained cheeks, you gave him a smile. “In the next life?” You questioned. And he looked down, quivering lips desperate to keep hold of a sob. He nods erratically, holding out his pinky finger. “In the next life.” Your finger naturally finds his.
Another promise, a vow, sets out between lovers, this time, may it be one fulfilled.
-> masterlist <-
I just realized I hadn’t really introduced myself at all yet, and since I’ve been pleasantly surprised by the interest my fics have gotten already, I wanted to just write a little note to tell folks about myself ^-^ I go by Em, and I’m 27 years old (so oldddd fml), and I live in the western U.S.
ATEEZ is my ult group, but I also love artists such as SEVENTEEN, ITZY, Stray Kids, BTS, KARD, VIXX, and others! My bias in ATEEZ is San, though lately I’ve been getting super wrecked by Hongjoong... and Seonghwa... and Yunho... And basically everyone lmao TT
I’ve roleplayed on various forums for well over a decade, but have only started writing fics in the last couple of months as I’ve struggled to find dependable rp partners. I’m really enjoying writing my own stories, though, and seeing other people enjoy them too is so nice! <3
I’m still trying to figure out how best to promote my stories on social media, but I’m always open to chat with fellow fans and anyone who is interested in my work! :) If you want to follow me on Twitter as well, my handle is @A_Tiny_Ember.
Thanks so much for showing interest in my writing, and I hope to get to know you all! :D
At first, Frank didn't even know you and Nathan were a thing or even knew each other.
"Wait, Frank! Has a fucking sister?"
Everyone was shocked that you guys could a ford to go to Blackwell but you came on scholarship.
You guys were opposites but you couldn't lie he was super cute even with his reputation.
Nathan showed you off all the time at school
"WAIT YOU ARE a client for my brother!"
Nathan let you borrow his clothes all the time and I think frank notice.
"Isn't that the rich boy's jacket?"
You were frozen telling him that you're seeing Nathan and he was shocked
"Just make sure I get his money okay."
Nathan enjoyed cuddling you and being the big spoon tell me different dare you lol
Hickey's was a thing and frank hated them.
" OH MY GOD, ANOTHER ONE!"
think he threw a microwave burrito at you when he saw those.
Nathan brought you along to Vortex parties.
Even if you didn't do drugs you made sure Nathan was okay.
Frank listen to you about Nathan and didn't hate the kid much.
"He hurts you I gut him"
Nathan told anyone even Veronica if they didn't like you and his relationship can fuck off.
"You know Y/n how much you like care of me I am gonna take care of you and get you out of that shitty trailer."
Run for Your Life
PART SIX of Bishop and Gracie!
Gif Rights: Who ever the beautiful soul was that made this!! This is not mine, simply one I found and liked.
Warnings: Swearing, Angst, Hints of Past Trauma
As always, I do NOT own anything Mayans related. I DO own my character and her story though.
My first language is English. I do know some Spanish but I am not fluent. I will be keeping the Spanish in this story to a minimum to avoid butchering a beautiful language. There will be some usage of terms of endearment and stuff though, praying they make sense!
Bishop watched Gracie laugh at something Coco said, a wave of jealously washing over him. He wanted to make her happy like that. His grip tightened on his beer as she lifted a hand to hide that grin that did things to his stomach. He noticed her do that before a couple times and the urge to pull her hand away from her face surged in him again. She didn't have to hide her happiness and any person that makes her think otherwise, can fuck right off.
"You into all that, Bish?"
The president turned two cold eyes to his left, fixing Angel with a glare hard enough to make the six foot something man shrink in his seat. "What the fuck did you just ask me?"
"I... I just... You watch her all the time. Keep tabs on her like the secret service watch the fucking president."
"You have a fucking point, Reyes?"
"She's pregnant, man."
"You think I don't fucking know that?" Bishop growled, watching Angel lean further back in his chair, he looked like he regretted opening his mouth.
"Yeah, Bish, of course. I..."
"I took her to that appointment. Let her squeeze the shit out of my hand while we listened to the heartbeat. Held her when she had a complete fucking breakdown in my truck." Bishop leaned toward him, lowering his voice. "You think I'd do any of that if I wasn't into her? If her being pregnant was a problem for me?"
"I guess not." Angel shook his head wishing he could disappear. Pushing on bravely, he spoke again. "It's just alot of responsibility, pres. I... I'd do anything to have had the chance to meet my son. To hold him in my arms. Protect him and his mom from the shit around us. Just wanted to know if you'd feel the same about a kid that wasn't yours."
Bishop leaned back in his chair, mulling over Angel's words. "Hell, I'm sorry, Angel. That shit was fucked and you deserved the chance to have all that." Bishop paused meeting his eyes, "believe me when I say, I want those things too. I want to protect her, I want to help her with the baby and I don't give a fuck that it's not mine. I just want to see her happy and both her and the kid healthy."
Angel nodded, "good." Then he pushed up from his chair and strode across the room to where she stood with EZ, Creeper and Coco by the pool table. Bishop chuckled as he ripped a cigarette out of Creeper's mouth and threw it on the floor before he could even light it. The words 'she's fucking pregnant, man!' Filtered through the music, making Bishop laugh again. Creeper apologized, turning and heading to the door with a new cigarette in hand.
Bishop watched a moment longer as Angel slung an arm over her shoulders, pulling her into a side hug as he whispered something into her ear. She nodded, looking like she mouthed a thank you. Then he dropped his arm and stepped away, grabbing the pool stick from Ez.
"Who wants to play me?" He yelled, holding his arms up in the air, brandishing the stick with a devilish smirk. "Anyone think they can take on the king?" Bishop shook his head, abandoning his beer as he stood up, crossing the room in a couple easy strides.
"Oooo! Pres wants to take on the champ?"
"Shut the fuck up and hand me a stick." Bishop scoffed, holding out his hand.
Angel grabbed one from the wall mount, tossing it to him with a haughty smirk. "Let's go, Jefe."
"Solo, or partners?"
"What do you say, Gracie? Wanna be my other half?" Bishop quirked a dark eyebrow, the corner of his mouth lifting in a crooked smile. Gracie flushed, her heart hammering in her chest as he gazed at her. His choice of words made her stomach flip and judging by his expression, that was exactly his intention.
"Uh... S-Sure. I'll play." She stammered, stepping forward as he held out the stick to her. "I'm not very good though."
Bishop made a noise of disagreement, waving his hand in a dismissive gesture. "You'll be fine."
"Alright, then I want Coco!" Angel shouted, watching the man in question roll his eyes.
"Man, I don't wanna be stuck with you again."
"Shut the fuck up, Coco! I'm the best teammate in this place." Angel pouted, looking offended.
Bishop leaned a hip on the side of the table, crossing his arms over his chest. His eyes stayed on Gracie as he muttered, "I beg to differ," under his breath.
Ez stepped forward, gathering the colored balls into the triangle, setting them into formation. Then he removed the plastic piece and stepped back, dropping it to the side to pick up his beer instead. He smiled as he watched Angel put on a serious face.
"Let's make this more interesting." Angel said, pulling his wallet out. "Hundred bucks says Coco and I beat your asses." Slapping the crumbled bills on the side of the table, Angel stuffed his wallet back into his pocket.
Bishop scoffed, copying his actions, laying two crisp fifties beside his money. "Deal." He stepped back, tucking his wallet away with a small smile in Gracie"s direction. She returned it, noting how much neater Bishop was than Angel in almost every way. From the way he stored his money to the way he handled himself. He was smooth and confident and organized where Angel was rough and cocky and chaotic. Two very different men.
"I'm not sure I know how to do this, Bish." She spoke quietly, her cheeks going red with embarrassment.
"You've got it, querida." Stepping up behind her, he let his chest graze her back as he pointed to the white ball. "That's the cue ball. Just hit it with your stick and try to break the triangle apart."
She nodded, taking a step closer to the table, bending awkwardly to rest the stick on the side of the table. She tried to mimick the way she had seen the men hold the stick, but it felt heavy and strange in her hands.
"Here," Bishop appeared behind her again, adjusting her grip to support the stick better. "That's it, just like that." He whispered to her, the silky baritone to his voice sent a shiver down her spine.
Gracie pulled pack and snapped the stick forward, connecting with the cue ball with a crack. The hit was hard, but not centered and the ball nearly missed the group in the middle completely. It just barely caught the corner, sending two other balls rolling away, but the others still sat proudly in formation. Angel chuckled behind his hand, eyes crinkling in amusement. Gracie blushed, stepping back and directly into Bishop's chest. She fumbled slightly, forgetting he was there, feeling embarrassed all over again for an entirely different reason.
Bishop's left hand landed on her hip, steadying her, squeezing it gently. "Easy, sweetheart, you'll get 'em next time." He spoke quietly, right into her ear, his lips brushing the side of her head. Bishop gave her hip another soft squeeze before taking the stick with his other hand. Stepping around her, he walked right up to the table, "let's go, asshat. Show us how the king breaks them." Bishop sneered mockingly, letting Angel take his shot and scoffing when not a single ball rolled into a pocket. Leaning forward, Bishop snapped the stick into the cue ball and smirked when two balls rolled into seperate pockets.
"Fucking smartass." Angel grumbled, crossing his arms. Coco chuckled as he took his shot, sinking one ball, but the wrong color. "What hell, Coco!"
"Whoops." Coco shrugged, handing the stick back to his partner with a shitty smile. Bishop caught the wink he threw Gracie's way.
Gracie grinned, eyes flashing toward to Bishop to find him already looking at her. Her breath caught in her chest, the look in his eyes something foreign to her. Was that adoration she saw? Infatuation? She couldn't be sure, but the heat of his eyes on her made her blush.
"You're up, princesa." He grinned at her, offering her the stick, letting his hand graze hers as she took it from him. Gracie nodded, pressing her lips together as she turned back to the table. She adjusted the stick in her grip the way she was shown, pushing it forward, she hit the cue ball and then the solid purple. Watching with a growing smile, the ball rolled forward and dropped into the pocket with a thunk. Turning back to Bishop she met his grin with her own, bouncing slightly in her excitement.
Bishop's breath caught in his throat. She looked fucking radiant. So carefree and happy. It took everything in him to keep his hands to himself, the urge to wrap her in his arms had his fingers twitching. "Well done, querida." Bishop's mustache lifted as his grin crinkled his eyes. God, what he wouldn't do to keep her that happy.
"Yeah, yeah, it was a good hit, Grace." Angel grumbled, but the hint of a smile on his lips told everyone he wasn't really as bitter as he let on. He enjoyed her gleeful expression as much as the next guy, her childlike joy lit up the room.
The game continued, Angel sinking most of the shots, Coco openly sabotaging their team. Bishop's aim was true, he rarely missed a ball and Gracie... Well she tried her best. Bishop ended up hitting the final ball, pushing it easily into the pocket he had called. Gracie clapped for him, grinning from ear to ear as Angel sulked. Coco smirked, disappearing out the door with a pack of cigarettes.
"Good game, Bish!" Gracie beamed, laying the stick on the table.
"Couldn't have done it without you, sweetheart." He spoke softly, stepping into her space with a devilish grin. She didn't back away, only inhaled sharply as one of his hands came to rest on the small of her back. He pressed her a fraction of an inch closer, squashing the urge to kiss her. "You're like my secret weapon." He told her, breath fanning her face as he looked down at her wide-eyed expression.
"You flatter me, Bish." Gracie whispered, meeting his eyes as her hands twisted nervously. "I did next to nothing though."
Bishop sucked his teeth, shaking his head in disapproval. "Give yourself some credit, querida, you earned two hundred bucks tonight."
Gracie gasped as she felt him push the bills into her back pocket, his hand sliding in slowly only to withdraw as quick as it came. "Obispo Losa!" She pushed at his chest and he stepped back, raising his hands innocently.
"I am not taking all this money!" Gracie cried, reaching into her pocket to give it back. Bishop lunged forward, gently grabbing her wrist.
"Oh yes you are. It's yours. You won it fair and square."
"You made most of the shots!" She reasoned, looking at him as if he had three heads.
"Just keep it, sweetheart, please." He released her then, backing away to find his abandoned beer. She watched him go, a surprised look on her face. A few minutes later, she walked to the bar, asking for a glass of ice water, feeling overly hot for some reason. After taking a few gulps, she decided to go outside and take a breather.
That's where Bishop found her. Sitting on the front porch step, glass of water beside her, hands rubbing her rounded belly. Illuminated by the moonlight, Bishop couldn't help but stare for a moment. He couldn't remember ever being so spellbound by a woman before. This was a new feeling for him.
"You, alright, querida?" Bishop tried to speak softly, but she startled anyway. His voice a stark contrast to the silence of the scrapyard. "I'm sorry." He apologized, striding over to her, sitting down without hesitation.
"It's okay," she told him, turning her face from the sky to look at him. She smiled briefly, before turning her face upwards again. "I'm okay. Just so hot all of a sudden, must be a baby thing." She shrugged, looking far away.
"Can I get you anything? To help?"
"No, thank you though. I have a drink and the air is helping." Gracie breathed in deeply, "look at those stars." She sounded awestruck and Bishop realized that he hasn't stopped to look at the stars in quite some time. Pulling his eyes away from her face, he looked up.
"Mmm." He hummed in agreement, marveling over the glittering night sky. Pulling his gaze back to the side of her face, he murmured, "beautiful."
Gracie could see him looking, from the corner of her eye she could see that he wasn't talking about the sky. She flushed in the darkness. "Bishop." There was a warning to her voice that she hadn't necessarily intended, but it happened anyway.
"What?" He asked innocently, pretending not to know what she meant. "It is and so are you."
Gracie stiffened, attempting to push herself up and off the step, but her belly got in the way.
"Whoa, whoa." Bishop steadied her, standing first and then tugging her arm gently to guide her to her feet. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."
"It's not that, it's just..."
"Look at me, Bishop!" She shouted all of a sudden, her voice splitting the night's silence.
"I am looking at you, sweetheart." He spoke calmly, quietly, refusing to let her anxiety shake him.
"I'm fucking pregnant!" She cried, throwing her hands up.
Much like before with Angel, Bishop felt his hackles raise. Trying to stay calmer than before, he simply tilted his head. "I know. I was at that appointment with you." Why did everyone think he couldn't handle this?
"How... How could you-" Gracie gulped, turning her back on him as she pushed a handful of curls out of her face. She huffed, trying to clam herself.
Bishop walked slowly around her, wanting to look her in the face again. "How could I what?"
"How could you be interested in someone like me?" She muttered, her shoulders dropped, her face turning down to the dirt.
"I'm sorry, someone like you?" Bishop growled, struggling to hide his frustrations. "What does that even mean, Gracie?"
Her head jerked up as he used her actual name. No sweetheart, dear, or princess. Just her name and honest concern. "A knocked up, homeless freak with PTSD that would rival that of a soldier coming home from war." She spit, eyes welling with tears as she glared at him.
Bishop swallowed hard, feeling his resolve snap as she insulted herself. No one got to talk like that about her. Not even her. "Gracie." He growled, stepping forward. "You are not a freak. Yes, you're pregnant. Yes, you have trauma from your past, but that does not and will not scare me away. You are smart and strong and so, so beautiful. God, your smile alone takes my breath away, and your laugh... I thought I was having fucking heart palpitations in there when we were playing pool. You have no idea what you do to me and the thought of you seeing yourself this way makes me so fucking angry."
Bishop's hands clenched into fists as he tried to stomp out his anger. Stepping closer, he reached for her, but froze as she flinched away from his hand. She realized what she did immediately, her lip trembling as he dropped his hands back to his sides.
"I-I'm sorry," she stammered, tears spilling over. Her hand lifted to cover her mouth. "I'm so-rry!"
"Gracie," Bishop sighed, slowly reaching for her again. When she didn't flinch away this time, he framed her face with his hands. Lifting her face to look her in the eye, he made her a promise. "I will never hit you. Not now, not ever. There is not a thing you could do or say to make me lash out at you like that. Do you understand?" Bishop spoke quietly, but his voice was hard, his body on edge as he looked into her watery eyes.
She nodded awkwardly in his hold, sniffing as more tears ran down her face.
"I won't hurt you, Gracie. I swear I won't and I won't let anyone else hurt you either. Never again. You're safe here. You're safe with me." Bishop's tone softened up, his hands sliding down her shoulders, over her arms, finally coming to a rest on her hips. He drew her in then, wrapping his arms around her in a hug that left zero space between their bodies. "As for the nightmares and the PTSD, if there is anything, anything at all I can do to help you with that. I will." He whispered into her curls, lips brushing her ear. "We're all here for you, Grace. If it would make you feel better to have your own place, we'll get it for you. If you want to stay with Letty and Coco, that's fine too. If you ever want to stay at my place, if that would make you feel safer or help you sleep better, or just make you feel less guilty about waking Coco and Letty each night, then I'll move you in tonight. Hell, Gracie, you tell me what you need and I'll break my fucking back getting it for you."
Her hands fisted in the back of his shirt, her face finding shelter in his neck. Her shaky breath rattled her chest and Bishop could feel it the whole way into his own. His stomach dropped as a fresh set of tears soaked his shirt. Bishop panicked momentarily. What did he say wrong?
"Thank you. Thank you, Obi, th-ank yo-u." She choked through her sobs, the shortening of his name squeezed at his heart. Fucking hell he was in so deep.
"Sshh, Gracie, I'm here. You're safe." He tightened his arms just a fraction, rubbing up and down her back gently. Her whole body stiffened and she gasped, Bishop nearly jumped away from her, afraid he had just stepped way over the line.
"Did you... Did you fe-el that?" Gracie sputtered, looking at him and then down to her stomach, her hands landing softly on her belly.
"What?" Bishop asked, concern flashing through him as his mind automatically went to all the terrible things that could be happening.
"I think... I think my baby..." She pressed her hand to her stomach, lifting her tear stained face to give him a small smile.
"What is it?" Bishop demanded, reaching for her in desperation, fearing something was wrong. Gracie grabbed his hand in both of hers, pressing it flat to her stomach. A weird fluttering greeted him, almost like a pulse, but more sporadic. "Holy hell... Is that..."
"The baby." She murmured, tears spilling for an entirely different reason now. She smiled at him as they dripped down her face.
Leaving one hand on her stomach, he lifted the other to her cheek, cupping it, lifting her face to his in a slow and gentle way that allowed her plenty of time to escape. When he was confident that he wasn't scaring her, he pulled her forward, large fingers wrapping around to the back of her neck and tugging her forward. Bishop's lips met hers in a kiss that was so soft and so tender that had she not been crying already, it would have surely made her sob. Gracie responded almost immediately, moving her lips against his, fueled by her newfound joy as the baby kicked again under their hands.
Bishop backed off as Gracie pulled away, her chest heaving as she caught her breath. His hand slipped to her waist, his eyes dropping to where their hands rested on her belly. "Shit." He breathed, grinning at her as the tiny flutter greeted him again.
"She must feel safe around you too." Gracie whispered, looking up at him with a small smile.
Bishop's brows lifted, her words sinking into his chest and warming his heart. "Too?"
Gracie nodded, "I trust you. I believe everything you just said. I know you'd never hurt me." She swallowed hard, "I'm damaged, there's no doubt about that, but I'm not stupid. I know all men aren't like my ex and I know you're not like him. Not even close."
"Damn right." Bishop nearly growled, tugging her closer, resting his forehead against hers. "You are so smart and beautiful and sweet." He pecked her lips again, then her cheek and her other cheek.
"Thank you for making me feel safe." She whispered, eyes slipping closed as he pressed a kiss to her neck, just below her ear.
"Thank you for trusting me." Bishop spoke against her skin, kissing his way back up to rest his forehead against hers once more. "I meant everything I said though, sweetheart. I won't hurt you and you are safe. You're always welcome here, or at my place and I will help you in every and any way you allow."
Gracie nodded against him, making their noses bump. He chuckled as her face split into the smile he loved so much. She yawned through the smile, "can you take me back to Letty's?"
Bishop smiled, pulling back as he took her hand in his, "absolutely. Let's go."
About halfway through the final chapter of We’ll Meet Again
thank y’all for being so supportive today and loving towards my newer posts 🥺🤍 i’m truly so so thankful for the support and friends i’ve made so far !!! you all are so kind!
i’ve seen quite a few newer people on my blog so just a little psa that if you ever want to chat, send messages in my inbox, etc. please do so!!! i love talking to people 🤍🙈
i hope everyone’s had an awesome day today, and i’m sending everyone love !!
Writer’s two preferred weapons:
Whip - Versatile, long range, can become a multitude of weapons depending on manipulation.
Pizza Peel - Strong, best block advantage, short range.
damn ok well i guess its time i get my writing energy back babey! modern au n happy ending au my beloveds