#I have way more pictures of Off the Hook but I am afraid for my poor switch
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Spring Fest Inkopolis Square and more Off The Hook!
#splatoon#splatfest#springfest#off the hook#I have way more pictures of Off the Hook but I am afraid for my poor switch
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Pick up the phone, I know I’m drunk again. And you know my intentions ‘cause it’s 2am - Ancient History by Set It Off
Hello, could you make one of Spencer x reader, please?
Hello love, hope you like it!
Ancient History
Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader
Summary - After you and Spencer break up, you just can’t seem to stay away from each other. But casual sex with the person you love will only do more harm than good, so you have to decide if you have a future together or if your relationship is fated to be ancient history.
CW - mentions of 15x6 Date Night, breakups, mentions of casual sex but no my graphic, drinking, angst, make ups.
WC - 2.6k
Spencer Reid had never been good at separating the intimate from his emotions.
Maybe it was due to him being well into his twenties the first time he slept with a woman. Or perhaps it was just the fact that his heart was too big for his own good.
Whatever the reason, he’d never been one for casual sex. He didn’t do hook ups or one night stands. He needed to have some kind of emotional connection with a woman before he could fall into bed with them.
And it wasn’t exactly as though that had changed, things were just…complicated.
It had taken months of dating before you and Spencer took your relationship to that level, but once you did it was difficult to keep your hands off of each other.
Spencer had felt connected to you in ways he’d never felt with anyone else before you’d even slept together for the first time. And after, the link had grown so intrinsic it was likely to never break.
He felt as though he was just as in tune with you as he was himself, like your souls were entwined on some kind of cosmic level even his impressive brain couldn’t fathom.
But after you’d had to witness him standing in his doorway kissing a hit woman who had kidnapped his mother and had him locked up, your three year relationship came to an abrupt end.
He’d tried to reason with you, to explain he’d been doing it to save a family and no other reason. But you’d seen the way he’d kissed her, the way he gripped her so tightly as though he was afraid she may crumble to dust. The way he looked completely dumbfounded afterwards, like Cat’s kiss had erased every single one of his brain cells.
There was no denying that kind of chemistry, try as he might. You’d tried to let it go but every time you closed your eyes you saw him and Cat together. And so for your own sanity you had to walk away.
But you never could shake the memories that rain inside. And neither could Spencer.
He missed everything about you but it quickly became clear to him that he desperately yearned for you and your body.
Spencer had never had a sexual relationship last so long, or in fact any relationship, but he felt as though he was dying without your touch.
Once the storm had settled the two of you met up for coffee and somehow you’d ended your meeting with a mutual understanding.
You didn’t trust Spencer the way you used to but you both agreed you missed the intimacy. And so the two of you made an arrangement that meant you still got to keep the physical aspect of your relationship without the strings and commitment.
And maybe if Spencer wasn’t so in love with you he wouldn’t have agreed to it. But if he could only have one part of you then so be it. It would have to be enough.
He pretended it was right but deep down he knew how wrong it was. But every time you called he answered. And when he called, you did the same in return.
Spencer tried to stem his loneliness with alcohol, hoping maybe it would take away some of the desperation he felt just to be near you. But more often than not it didn’t work and he would find himself pacing the street with his phone to his ear.
Pick up the phone, I know I’m drunk again, but please pick up the phone.
And of course you always did, and you always knew his tensions at two am.
Maybe you were under thinking part-time thrills, not focusing on the bigger picture because you would both get swept up in the pleasure.
It was hard to think logically when Spencer had you pinned to the bed under the weight of his body, yet making you feel lighter than air with his touch.
He knew how to drive you wild and you knew how to make him smile. Your bodies moved together in such an impossibly perfect rhythm, like a choreographed dance, the moves for which were embedded deep inside your souls.
It was too hard to quit something that just felt this right. Even if Spencer did inadvertently leave a small fragment of his heart behind in your bed each time.
A storm was surely advancing, but Spencer ignored it. Instead he would get drunk and call you at two am and end up between your sheets.
Every time it became more difficult to drag himself away from you. When the haze of pleasure wore off and he had to prize himself out of your bed it often felt like those sheets were holding him captive.
But he would get dressed and take his leave as you whispered from the bed, see you next time.
It was all fun and games until inevitably you would both get hurt. You played with fire because you loved the way it burned. But there was no use patching up a sinking ship, sometimes you just had to know when to admit defeat.
And so Spencer stopped drinking, stopped allowing his lowered inhibitions from picking at the phone again. But then you showed up at his apartment in the middle of the night and his resolve melted.
It chipped pieces of him away each time one of you had to leave after spending the night together. He started to feel used, like all he was good for was sex and it caused indentations on his heart from where it continuously took beatings.
Deep down he’d hoped if he kept this up then things would go back to how they used to be, that you’d forgive him, learn to trust him again.
Perhaps that made him naive, idealistic to believe just because he couldn’t separate the intimate from the emotional that you couldn’t either.
After a while it all just felt like a vicious, self-destructive cycle and he had to break it. As much as he loved you, as much as he’d thought getting to be with you in any capacity was worth it, it hurt too much. It would end up taking too much from him and he’d never recover.
He would never be able to begin to heal while the two of you were still playing this game. Spencer needed you to be his ancient history.
But once again you showered up on his doorstep in the middle of the night and he let you in. He didn’t argue when you started to kiss him or when you began removing his clothes.
He put up no fight when you led him to his bedroom and you both climbed on the bed. He was completely complicit in the activities that followed.
But once it was over and you almost immediately freed yourself from between his sheets and started dressing, Spencer’s heart took the final blow it could handle.
He sat up in bed, pulling the sheets over himself to shield his naked body and watched as you got back in your clothes. And the words seemed to come tumbling out of his mouth before he’d realised he was going to vocalise them.
“This is the last time we do this. This has to be the last time.” He hated the pain in his voice, the way he sounded like a small, frightened child.
You pulled your t-shirt over your head and slowly turned to face him.
“What? Why?” You frowned at him. “Why would you say that?”
Did you really not know? Surely you knew him well enough to see the hurt in his eyes every time you walked away from him. It didn’t take a profiler to see how much agony this caused him.
“This is breaking me, Y/N.” He shook his head. “Every time we do this it hurts me more than the last. I can’t keep watching you leave when all I want is for you to stay.”
“Spencer,” you sighed almost as though you were frustrated. “It’s just sex.”
“It can never be just sex with the woman I love, the woman I thought I would spend the rest of my life with.” He swung his legs out of the bed and hurriedly pulled his boxers on before standing up.
“Spence, come on. It doesn’t need to be complicated.” You rolled your eyes.
“You know who I really am and it’s not this.” He folded his arms over his bare chest. “I know I hurt you and I’m sorry for that. And maybe there is some sick part of me that enjoyed that kiss with Cat. Maybe there always has been some twisted part of my brain that’s never been able to let her go. She's come so close to outsmarting me time and time again and perhaps I like that in a weird way. But you also know that I love you with every beat of my heart. And you seem to know how to break it so well.”
“I don’t think I’m ever going to be able to look at you the same.” You confessed. “The second the endorphins wear off and I’m just laying here next to you, it all comes flooding back to me. All I can see when I look at you is that damn kiss.”
“I think what we’re doing…it’s more damaging than anything. It fools me into believing that we can have more again. And if all we’re ever going to have is sex then I have to end it. It’s not enough for me Y/N. It would hurt less to have nothing from you than only have one small part of you.” His arms fell back to his sides and he turned away from you, feeling the tears burning his eyes.
For a moment or two the room descended into an all consuming silence. Spencer fought against his tears, not wanting you to see how much pain this was causing him. He didn’t feel like he deserved to be hurt, not after what he’d done to you.
You knew as well as he did that this was a foolish idea. Truthfully it hurt you just as much every time you had to leave him. Getting to be close to him filled your heart with joy but as soon it was over the pain set in again.
You wished you could find a way to forgive him for making out with Cat, wished you could foresee a day when you wouldn’t still feel so betrayed by it.
Logically you knew he’d only done what he did to save a family but you also knew on some level he’d enjoyed the excuse to kiss her.
And maybe if it had been anyone other than the woman responsible for putting him in prison and kidnapping his mother it could have been easier to reconcile. But the hardest part of it all for you to wrap your head around was how he could do such a thing with a woman who had effectively ruined his life over and over again.
It said more about his morals than anything. He said he’d done it because he thought it was the only way to get what he needed out of her but you both knew there were other ways. And you were sure you’d never be able to forgive him for it.
After a while you exhaled heavily, knowing he was right as much as you didn’t want to admit it. In the long run this was only going to hurt more than just letting each other go.
“I guess I should go then.” Your voice wobbled a little as you spoke.
“I think it’s for the best.” He agreed without turning to look at you.
You collected the rest of your things in silence and he didn’t once glance at you as you did so. Even when you left the room and headed to the front door, Spencer forced himself not to look, not to speak. He was this close to begging you to stay.
But he said nothing.
And maybe you were destined to be his ancient history.
Except the thing about history was that it had a habit of repeating itself.
Several months of radio silence on both your parts followed that night until you’d bumped into each other at a local bookstore.
The hurt was still there but it had lessened and actually you found seeing one another again was a breath of fresh air.
You agreed to meet again for coffee the following week.
Over subsequent meetings a beautiful friendship blossomed between you. You were able to hang out without falling into bed with one another and although there was still some residual pain, being friends worked out nicely for you both.
But then one day you woke up and all the trust you’d lost in Spencer seemed to have returned; all the feelings you’d had about that kiss with Cat seemingly vanished.
Maybe all you’d needed was time to process it and move past it. And the more you thought about it the more trivial it all seemed.
You loved Spencer, even now you loved him just as much if not more than you had. Letting one stupid mistake get in the way of what could be the best thing that ever happened to you now felt so idiotic.
It had really been second nature when after having lunch together and you walked outside to say your goodbyes, you’d leaned in and kissed him.
When you pulled back Spencer averted his gaze, shoving his hands in his pockets and taking a step backwards.
“Y/N…” he whispered your name under his breath. “Don’t…please don’t.”
“I don’t even know what came over me.” You suddenly felt awash with discomfort. “I’m so sorry.”
“I love being your friend.” He looked back at you, chewing on his lip. “But it’s still hard sometimes. We can’t fall back into that old pattern, it’s too painful.”
“I…I…” you stumbled over your words. “Spence?”
“Yeah?” He swallowed.
“I don’t wanna be your friend.” You shrugged. “And I don’t wanna just sleep with you. I want it all, Spence. I want what we had.”
His eyes conveyed his sadness and he inhaled sharply through his nose.
“So do I.” He nodded. “But I hurt you and you can’t forgive me for that, I get it.”
“See that’s the thing,” you stepped closer to him. “I think I have forgiven you.”
His face contorted into confusion as he scrutinised you curiously. He ruminated on your words, you could all but see the cogs turning in his head.
He didn’t seem to believe you and you didn’t blame him for that. You stepped even closer and removed his hands from his pockets, holding them in your own.
“Y/N,” his voice and his hands both trembled. “Please don’t say that unless you mean it. I can’t go through the pain of losing you again.”
“I do mean it, Spencer. I’m not mad anymore, and I know I can trust you with my life.” You gave his hands a soft squeeze.
“I…I’m so sorry for the thing with Cat. You have no idea how sorry I am.”
“I’ve got a pretty good idea.” You offered him a smile. “I love you, Spence. Some dumb kiss is not a good enough reason for us not to be together.”
“I love you too. S-so much.” He stuttered, tears misting his vision.
“Good.” You laughed lightly, leaning in and capturing his lips once again.
He removed his hands from yours so he could wrap his arms around you, holding you close to him where you belonged.
He knew he’d never do anything to risk losing you again. You were his present and you were his future; not his ancient history.
#milestone celebration#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds
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Unwanted Marriage | Chapter 10 - Mrs Romanoff
Series Masterlist
You were stunned as you looked at the wedding invitation given to you by Sharon. "Y/N, am I mistaking the name of the groom?" Even Wanda wasn't sure if her eyes were playing tricks on her. Sharon was going to get married to Chase Adler.
"Y/N, don't think I will let you off so easily. Now Chase is going to back me, it's a matter of time when I will get rid of you!" Sharon was still unable to let go of her grudge on you even after almost getting injured. "Y/N did not force you to be with anyone. You are the one that gets yourself involved with Adler." Sharon was about to shout at her when you stepped up to protect her. "You have chosen your own road, nobody asked you to marry him."
"You are the one that pulled us together! The person on that day should have been you! You are really a bitch. You trick thousands of people. You and Chase are the perfect match!" You were no longer going to suffer in silence and gave her a resounding slap. "You bitch. You dare to slap me!"
"What happened? Sharon is looking for trouble with Y/N again?" // "I don't know, it seems that Y/N just hit Sharon." // "All the grudges she bears finally turned into a slap?" In an open office, there was hardly any privacy.
"Sharon Carter! Y/N Y/L/N! Into my office. Now!" Tony Stark came out of his office and ordered. "Millicent, you too."
"What happened just now? Why did you start a fight?" He asked to get to the bottom of it. "She hit me! I just gave her my wedding invitation, does she have to be that angry? I'm afraid that someone had a bad marriage, and is jealous that I'll get married."
"If she doesn't have a good marriage, then who does." Tony thought. "Y/N, you tell me, what happened?"
"Chief Editor, I can't tell you clearly what happened, so why don't I just show you? A fox like her deserved to be hit while walking down the street. I think, any woman would have hit her when they heard someone talk about them like that."
"What do you mean, am I wrong?" Sharon was still adamant on her ways to the end. "Sharon Carter! What happened at the dinner had a serious impact on the company. So I will let someone more suitable to come and take your position. From today onwards, you are no longer editor of Group 1."
"I am demoted? (I never realised this bitch has hooked up to Tony Stark. No wonder she can be this overbearing in the office!) Y/N! You better watch out!"
It was pretty much peaceful for the rest of the day except when Natasha texted you saying she'll be waiting for you outside the building after work. "Ah ha, from your look I can tell it's from the goddess himself." Wanda pushed her chair close to you and ambushed you from behind. You pushed her away and faced away, there was no way you were that obvious.
Once it was time to get off work, Wanda rushed you off saying she'll clear the rest for you. You thanked her before packing your bags and leaving. "Do we have plans today?" You asked as you entered the car. "Yes, I'll take you to meet Rick Mason, he has been wanting to see you."
"Rick Mason?"
"A family friend."
You realised anyone related to Natasha or gets to call Natasha a friend are all very rich people. When you entered the estate. To get to the front gate of this mysterious Rick Mason, you have to drive through a long stretch of road.
"You must be Y/N." He greeted you at the front door.
"That's right, I am Y/N, nice to meet you."
"Hi, you can call me Rick. Come on in. Today I have asked the cook to make some of Natasha's favourite dishes, but I don't know whether it is to your taste."
"It smells nice." You complimented. "Never know that you would be so homely."
"I also know how to cook." Natasha said when he heard you complimenting him. "Really?" You questioned. You can't really picture her standing in the kitchen cutting vegetables. "You don't believe it?"
"Nope."
The three of you began eating and talking and the topic eventually landed on Natasha's legs. "I heard that you have not been to the hospital for a long time for a check up? The doctor said there is still hope, you cannot be so wilful."
"Rick, it's all in the past."
"I know in your heart you will never let it go."
"I understand what you mean, but as long as I don't get some things cleaned up, my legs will not recover." You didn't join in on the conversation as you know it was not your place to do so.
You had a lovely time there but it reached the time where you needed to head home. Rick stopped you from entering the car. "Y/N, ever since she was young, Natasha always has her own ideas, so you try to talk to her."
"Alright, I understand." You were deep in thought as Clint drove the two of you back. "What are you thinking?"
"Nat, haven't you thought of getting your legs checked? Rick is right, there is a chance that you will recover."
"Now is not the right time." She didn't give any more explanation. "Is it because of your stepmother? Were your legs also because of them?"
"You don't have to worry about these things, I will handle it." She has to manage so many things. From your estimation, she took over the company for 10 years and fell into an accident a few years after that. You wondered how she got through it all those years. "You don't have to be sympathetic to me." She pulled you closer to rest your head on her shoulder. "I only hope to see admiration and love in your eyes."
===
"Sharon, this is so pretty." She was flaunting her diamond ring in the office and of course there were people who were jealous of her.
"That's nothing, I think she purposely said it in front of you."
"People love to talk, so whatever, we should let her talk if she wants to." As long as she was not actively doing something against you, you don't want to spend your energy on her. "Y/N, someone is looking for you." A colleague told you.
"I will go with you, I am very worried after what happened last time." Wanda was ready to leave her seat and go with you. "Okay."
"Excuse me, are you all looking for me?" You asked the group of guys. "Are you Y/n Y/L/N?" You nodded. "Please come with us." Wanda became suspicious of them when they didn't state their reason for being here. They showed you their police badge, but it wasn't like you could differentiate the real from the fake "We are the police, we need to clarify with you what happened during the dinner."
"Sorry, I wasn't involved in that incident. You have the wrong person."
"Yeah, the victim is just over there, why don't you ask her to assist with your investigation, we don't know anything."
"Please cooperate with our investigation." They started being forceful and grabbed your wrist. "What are you doing?!"
"Help!, we are being kidnapped!" Wanda shouted. "Give me back my phone!"
"Want to call your lawyer? You should wait till you are in the station first!" The two of you started hitting them in the head and their manhood. "You dare to assault the police! You dare to obstruct our work, you can't get away with it now!"
"Hit the police?" // "Are they really the police?" You and Wanda glanced at each other. If they truly are the police, you just got yourself in trouble...
"What is this?" The voice that you came to hate appeared again. "Kidnapping or assaulting the police?"
"She didn't do anything, don't you want me? Let's go then." You tried misdirecting them. "You actually assaulted the police. Policemen, you shouldn't let them off so easily." In the end, the two of you got escorted out the building by the police with a crowd behind you.
Y/N Y/L/N, you will suffer the same pain as I did! No, it's going to be a hundred times worse! I want to see who will save you in the police station this time!
Two of you were thrown into a room when you arrived at the station. "Wait! I need to inform my family! You have no reason to detain us!" You shouted through the door. "No reason? You both assaulted policemen. Is that not reason enough? Just stay here and shut up!"
"What are we supposed to do now?" Wanda asked. "Where is your phone?"
"They have taken it away saying that I cannot bring my phone." Wanda sadly revealed. "Just now when we came, I heard those people were making a call to Adler."
"Adler? Chase Adler?"
"If it's really him then what should we do?" Wanda asked. "Don't worry, it might not be such a coincidence. I mean if it is Adler, he is trying to get back at me but not you."
"Look at this, such deep sisterly love, so touching." A sarcastic clap sounded. "Of course it's me! Last time you escaped, but this time you are at my place. I want to see how you can escape." He makes his way closer to the both of you. "What do you want?"
"Aren't you clear what I want to do? Don't worry, I have prepared a lot of things today, you will like it."
"Adler! Do you know where this place is? Aren't you afraid that people will know about it?!" You shouted at him. "I told you, this is my place. My dad is the Chief of this police station, do you think they dare to leak anything out?"
"Ad-Adler, you, you calm yourself down, just let us go, okay?" He ignored Wanda's words and told his subordinates to hold her and separate the two of you. You screamed for them to let her go but Adler was very focused on you. "Y/N Y/L/N, if you beg me, I might be nice to you." He said in a sickly sweet voice. "Stop dreaming!" You spat on him and shouted.
"Bitch!" He wound his hands and gave you a slap before grabbing you by the throat and pushing you at the wall. "I think you prefer the hard way! The more you resist the more I like it. No hurry, later you will know what heaven is!"
"Adler, you will regret this!"
"I will be a happy ghost even if I get to die underneath the peony flower, but you can think of how you can make it happy so that I might be gentle to you!" He tightened his hands around his neck before dropping you to the floor.
Your pants rode down a little due to the movement and Adler was about to seize the opportunity when you pushed him away and adjusted your clothes. "You stupid whore, stop pretending to be chaste! You just wait there like a good girl and I'll guarantee that you'll feel like you're in heaven!"
"Bastard!" He wasn't fast enough to react as someone wrapped his arm around his neck and slammed him to the floor. "Who was that?! How dare you? Do you know who my father is..." He dragged on when he saw a cane in his peripheral.
"Dad? Why are you here?" He asked. "How dare you randomly arrest people here?!"
"Dad, don't you already know about this..."
"Shut up! How dare you say that!"
"Dad?"
You flinched when you felt someone touch you but her scent surrounded you made you look up. "Don't be afraid, it's me." It's as if her voice is opening a door and rescuing you from this never ending darkness. Tears cascaded down your face when you realised you were finally going to be safe with her.
"Ms- Ms Romanoff? Why are you here? This..."
"Ha, how can I miss a show that you prepared so well for? After all, you secretly took my wife here!" Her hands didn't leave you even when he was talking to Adler. "Wi-wife? Dad, I didn't know!"
"I am really sorry, Mrs Romanoff, my son is truly ignorant, this is just a misunderstanding... Sorry for troubling you... you can deal with this however you like." His son looked up at his Dad in shock, why was he not defending him? "This is all because... this is all Sharon Carter's fault! I really don't know anything!"
"Sharon Carter, Sharon Carter! You don't know anything even though you're married? Aren't you ashamed?!"
"What's wrong with our Adler Family?! What did we do wrong that we're afraid of Natasha Romanoff?! Is it because of her vicious tactics? No matter how vicious she is, she's just a disabled guy! What can she do to us?" He reached over to grab her legs and Clint was about to intervene when Natasha told him to stop. "Dad! Look at how she's lost her mobility! She can't even walk, why should we be scared of-?!"
Before he could finish his sentence, he felt a foot on his face, kicking him to the floor. Natasha folded her leg rest and pushed it aside before standing. Adler was visibly shaking when he saw Natasha standing in front of him. "Even if I am disabled, I won't let the Adler family off!" When she spoke in a calm tone, it made her even scarier.
"Na...tasha?" You looked at her. To see her standing was not something you imagined. At least not so soon. She walked closer to you and lifted you up bridal style. "Y/N, from now on no one will dare to hurt you. Because, I promise, even if the whole world is against me, for you, I will let the whole world know that Y/N Y/L/N no longer exist, only Y/N Romanoff. And that you are my woman, my wife, and she will be happy."
Series Masterlist
@natsxwife @franfineashell @dvrkhcld @reginassweetheart @marvelogic @autorasexy
#natasha romanoff#natasha x reader#natasha x you#my writing#natasha romanoff imagine#natasha romanoff fanfiction#natasha romanoff x reader#black widow x female reader#black widow x reader#unwanted marriage#mcu x reader#marvel#avengers
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The End
After a few years away from that particular couch, I started seeing a new therapist at the end of last year. It had been long enough, I sagely determined, after I was felled by a series of really nasty panic attacks—one happened while I was doing a Q&A on stage with some filmmakers. They didn't notice, nor did the audience, nor (most importantly) the publicists. But it was happening. Me contemplating running off stage, into the Soho afternoon. It was a terrible feeling, and eventually feeling terrible starts to be a drag, so I found, after a fair amount of searching, someone new.
He is in his late 50s and has a kind, open comportment. He's much more giving and lean-in-and-nod than my last therapist, a sort of prim and watchful gay guy who retired to Florida. I like this new gay guy, I think. Or, I am warming to him. At first, I thought his platitudes and constant quoting of various people were corny. But I have resisted such sentiment for so long, and lack of sentiment hasn't cured me, so maybe I should try the earnest stuff. He has me meditating for one minute a day. The panic attacks went away.
For a little while, anyway. They've been creeping back, when I least expect them, and when I most do. I am afraid of what I am afraid of, I hate what I hate, I feel increasingly indifferent to what I love. Winter hardens care. Do I like movies anymore? Do I like a play, seen on some chilly Saturday afternoon? Maybe it's just seasonal. Or it's media malaise in a time of such austerity. They're trying to lay off the best people while the worst people watch, safe as houses. They're trying to take the whole thing apart and replace it with nothing. I have worked in my business for 16 years, well over a third of my life, and for the first time it now feels truly dire and terminal and like I need to start making other plans for what to do with the rest of my time here in the waking, working world.
Something I talk about a lot with my therapist is inertia—I use the word constantly. Why can't I just, why can't I just, why can't I just. I know something's in me, latent under my lazy skin, but it never makes its way to the surface. At least not yet.
Which causes panic, this stasis. I am scared of the drugs that might help, and am resistant to other concrete life changes that might make this better. (I like a glass of wine too much; I'm a fan of my vape.) I have tried avoiding things, I have tried not avoiding things.
I guess it's not circumstance, really. I have panic attacks when I'm home at night, Andrew asleep in the other room, me watching some murder show or YouTube video (same thing) and suddenly a feeling hits me, the conviction that a blood clot or some other lurking thing is making its way up my body and that this is my sorry, lonely little nighttime end. Here it is, the moment when I'm carried off, when I disappear, when I slip away into nothing.
My parents just finished a cruise, a lifelong wish fulfilled, in South America, hooking around Cape Horn and then exploring the fjords and inlets of Chile. All the reports were good. They had the best time. I had worried about my mom itching for her work email, about my dad being newly 90 years old and maybe feeling exhausted by all the activity. But it seems they managed well. They saw Patagonian cities, they saw mountains rising out of the sea, they saw the shy, retreating edges of glaciers, so quiet and demure in their dying. My mom sent us pictures and I thought most about the glaciers, those last cracking murmurs of a time before. When I was in Alaska for a wedding, years ago now, we went to a park of some kind and the visitor's center that was once built over a glacier then stood cantilevered over dry land. The ice had crept much farther up the mountain, winking goodbye.
How awful. And yet, in the depths of my hypocrisy, I relish an unseasonably warm day. Whatever lifts me out of winter, I guess. Whatever can drag me out of the feeling that everything is indeed going to ruin—a career, a life, a liver, a future. My best friend moved out of my neighborhood recently, which is sad. But it also affords us the opportunity to explore new territory, to find backyard bars with good deals where we can huddle in forgiving late-winter winds and make uneasy escape plans, where we consider what parachutes could ever be made of.
It's not always enough, of course. I too often have nights, far too late, when I go pacing around the living room, circling the coffee table in a weird sort of marching step in my underwear, shaking my hands to get the dread to go away. My new therapist has urged me to find what centers me. To think of all that is known and steady.
I try to gather myself and remember the people I have, arrayed across the planet. Andrew, in restless sleep down the hall. My sister in her Los Angeles canyon, surrounded by trees. I walk the room, knees high and somehow defiant, chest straining with worry. And I see my parents, on a boat at the tip of the world, dreaming of lost things.
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//TW: Very brief mention/allusion to non-con from Ghost comics. Description of getting hurt(?) I am bad at this
°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°
//CW: a bit NSFW, soft, little hurt/comfort, first time together, love making more than anything, like I am serious, I made it so fucking soft. Top!Soap& Bottom!Simon, probably OOC but who cares 💗
Just a brief idea
Let's paint a picture in your mind of Soap and Ghost coming back from a mission that turned out to be a total shit show. Exchanging no words, Soap just simply follows Ghost to his room.
When they both enter the very sparsely decorated room and Ghost locks the door behind them all the emotions they held during the mission are set free.
They almost lost each other. There was so many things they wanted to say- yet the silence was deafening. They both stood in the middle of the bedroom not sure how to proceed with all those feeling they had for one another.
Ghost couldn't rise his eyes from the floor, afraid that if he dared to look at Soap they would be back at that fucking warehouse they just came back from. Afraid that he will see the shrapnel Soap had barely dodged deep in his chest.
"Simon, ah thought-" The image of Ghost heaving for air in the burning warehouse flashed before his eyes. "God, I thought ah won't be able to take ye out of there..." He pressed his hands against his eyes, trying to push away the stinging in his eyes.
"The fuck you did that for?" Ghost still wasn't looking at Soap. His voice raspy and strangled. "I ordered you to get the fuck out." Ghost's fists clenched at his sides, nails digging into his own skin.
"Is that even a question, Lt? You really think I would leave ye there?" Soap's voice was calm, maybe a bit hurt.
He steps closer to Ghost and slowly raised his hand to put it on Ghost's clothed chin. The touch was feather light as if not sure it was allowed.
Ghost shuddered and raised his head, his eyes meeting Soap's.
And that is when the Scot saw wet patches on the balaclava right under Simon's eyes.
He cupped Ghost's fave in his palms and brought his face lower so their foreheads and noses were brushing against each other.
"Oh, Simon..." Whispered Soap.
"You could have d-"
"But I didn't. We didn't." Soap grabbed Ghost's hand and put it over his heart. "See?It's still going."
They stood like that for a while before Soap felt some of the tension leave Ghost's body. He then put his hands on the hem of the mask, hooking his fingers under it just a bit.
"Can I?"
The lieutenant noded and Soap slowly pulled the mask off.
Ghost's hair was a sweaty mess and his cheeks were wet and smudged with black paint. Soap pressed his lips right under Simon's eyes.
Somewhere during the shower of kisses Soap was providing to Ghost, their eyes fluttered close.
When their lips finally met it was like the air was punched from their lungs and the only way to breathe again was getting closer.
Ghost wrapped his arms around Soap's neck as the shorter man put his hands on his waist. Slowly Johnny's hands started to wonder more- but only over clothes not daring to sneak his hands under Ghost's shirt.
But Ghost wanted this. First time in a long time he felt like what was happening to him was right. Maybe it felt a bit like it could be his true first time. First time he did it with someone he actually wanted.
With Johnny. Safe.
Yeah- he wanted it.
So he raised his arms to show Johnny that he wanted the shirt off. He took the hint and pulled the shirt off of him, brushing his ribs and belly with warm fingers.
Then Soap almost tore his own t-shirt off of himself.
Ghost let out an amused laugh when Soap's head got stuck in the material and after helping the other out- they both chuckle.
"Well that's a good start on my end."
"I don't think I expected more out of you, Johnny..."
Soap smirked and grabbed Ghost's hands. Slowly pulling him towards the bed.
"So you admit you already thought about it, huh?"
"Fuck off"
It was nice to see Simon like that, flushed from his face down to his chest.
It was even better to see him laid out on the bed under him, tips of his ears burning red. Mouth open and panting softly, letting out quiet moans and whimpers as Johnny was slowly burying himself between his legs. When he finally bottomed out he fell in Ghost's arms. Heart to heart they were giving each other time to adjust to the euphoric feeling flowing through their whole bodies.
Only when Ghost started slowly moving his hips did Soap move as well. They found a slow and deep rythm that quickly made Simon into a whiny and whimpering puddle.
Soap hiding his head in the crook of Ghost's neck and leaving red and wet marks from his collar bone to right behind his ear.
It didn't take long for the rythm to become uneven and erratic as they both came moaning each other's names like a prayer. Soap's back marked with red scratch marks.
When they came back from the high of it, Soap slowly pulled out and laid next to Simon, pulling him into a cuddle. He couldn't stop looking at Ghost's legs which were still a bit shaky from the orgasm.
They both smiled.
First time writing something longer like this I think. Still very new to writing nsfw, so I appreciate feedback ❤️❤️ love ya all!
#ghost soap#soapghost#ghostsoap#john soap mactavish#ghost x soap#cod#cod mw2#simon ghost riley#soap cod#soap mctavish#cod modern warfare#simon ‘ghost’ riley#ghost simon riley#simon riley x john mactavish#ghost mw2#they need a hug#i am a inexperienced Ghost truther#soft ghost#soft soap
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Another one for you! 😘😘
(I am obsessed with this one… 🫠) xxx
The Surprise
"I can't see a thing, Tommy! Can I please open my eyes now?" you asked with the impatience of a child on Christmas morning.
Tommy's chest rumbled with the amused chuckle he saved for occasions when he teased you, moments when it was just the two of you alone with no one to witness his softness. "Just a few more steps, love," he said, taking your hands in his and leading you toward your surprise.
"Tommy if I fall in the mud, I swear to God-"
"We're here," he announced, cutting off your tirade. He stopped in front of you, close enough you could feel his nose brush against yours. The smell of his aftershave and cigarettes mixed with the leather and fresh hay inside the stable, bringing your senses to life and painting a picture behind your eyelids of the man standing in front of you. To the rest of the world he was a dangerous man in an expensive suit, but to you he would always be a wild gyspy boy at heart.
That's why it didn't surprise you when he leaned into you and whispered, "Open your eyes" and when you did, you spotted the most beautiful stallion you'd ever seen. "Do you like him?" he asked softly, as he laid a hand on your shoulder and gave a gentle squeeze.
Your mouth fell open for a moment at the sight of the dazzling Arabian you'd wanted since the auction last week. "I didn't think you were listening," you admitted. "You and Polly had so much to discuss. I didn't think you heard me when I pointed him out," you admitted looking down at your shoes.
Recently you worried you'd been nagging him too much. A common complaint you had was that he didn't go riding with you. Even when he said he would, something always came up and you were left to go alone. You wondered if Tommy had noticed how dejected you had become. Now it was obvious that he had and you smiled at him, knowing he was trying to make amends for being caught up with the business.
Tommy tucked a lock of hair behind your ear as he let out a sigh. Then you felt him hook a finger under your chin to bring your gaze back to him. "I'm always listening, my darling. Nothing is more important to me than you. If I haven't shown it, it's my fault, yeah?"
"Thank you for saying that, Tom," you said, your heart full of appreciation for your loving husband.
As the stallion reclaimed your attention with his pawing and stomping, your thoughts went to riding your new horse. Tommy must have seen the glimmer in your eye as he asked, "Y/n, would you join me for a ride?"
You blushed at the way he said your name and nodded your head vigorously in agreement. "I'd love nothing more," you replied. Looking down at your clothes you realized you weren't suitably dressed, however. "I'll need a moment to change. Will you wait?" you asked suddenly, afraid he might change his mind.
Tommy smirked at you, "I'll come with you. I don't have anywhere to be today and I can think of at least one other activity you greatly enjoy, Mrs. Shelby. It would be my pleasure to continue spoiling my beautiful wife this afternoon."
#zablife ask box#Peaky Blinders fanfic#Peaky Blinders imagine#Tommy shelby fanfic#Tommy Shelby imagine#Tommy Shelby x you#Tommy Shelby x reader#Tommy Shelby x y/n
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GOOD OMENS S2 SPOILERS!!!
This season of good omens is so good. List to follow:
"He's not allowed to stop the execution of 3 children bc the system that agreed to kill them has a permit" like that is the best satire I've heard since Shakespeare
Non stop foreshadowing of Beezlebub X Gabriel. Like it's so obvious so early on. Flies near him, him not wanting to kill them, it hurts to remember, you're perfect.
Aziraphel crying when he thinks he's a demon after lying is such a great first stake in the heart of solidifying that he thinks Crowley is still an angel and won't accept him as he is. More to that, it is so good at showing how that all stems from his own internalized fear. A very queer experience mirrored here...purity something something. Mr. Fell is afraid of falling.
Crowly is very cunty this season. The posts are right
AZ drives like crowley
AZ writing in his diary about his and crowleys dates like a teen girl. Bonus that it's a date to a graveyard to look at a picture of his old boss and they end up in a diseased alley and help a wee lesbian steal a corps. And still writing about it like it was a super cute date solely bc his crush got drunk and acted a fool. Same place for the Beezlebub Gabe date extra bonus
They let Tennant be scottish!
Crowley having a night rider moment
Aziraphel being genuinely in love with humanity and holding the jar close to himself in grief at the doctor's has me emotional. He really does have too much love for one tiny little angel.
Crowley having the time of his life making those two humans fall in love. He loves mischief but he hates harm. He loves to see humans happy and he only shows it when he's alone
Aziraphels debut as a Magician!
Aterik is gender envy. Don't argue with me
Mark Gatiss zombie. No I am not lying not even a little.
Crowley fell for AZ when he gave away the sword but he falls farther every time AZ does a little more good. The way he said " thank you for getting me off the hook back there" was so flirtatious and the smile when AZ knocks over shit in the Magic shop. Hats off the both actors
Old man crowley
Lmao crowley seeing the miracles don't work and deciding to speed read how not to kill his boyfriend XD
The shaky breathing as crowley aims the rifle. There is more tension in that scene than most horror I've seen.
AZIRAPALALALA
Lmao the car is a puppy
Shax being a bad bitch and not underestimating Aziraphels love for his bookshop. 10k demons is called for when sieging that place.
AZ getting things done while crowley fucks around in the back or vise versus is a common scene dynamic
AZ quoting DW trivia like tennant does.
This whole season is about how they realize how much they love each other and having a crisis about it while hell and heaven interrupt with issues regarding 1 John ham
The long running joke in the show is that all the angel's pretend they know a lot about humans as a show of power
Much more miracles and it's awesome.
Not even the seamstress is straight
Azs shop changing into a ball was so distracting to crowley that he momentarily forgot about the army of demons coming for them
John hamm fluffy coat
Crowley reading terms and agreements comes in handy several times
"Happy anniversary, love" I'm screaming and crying I am so full. This season said OK please make this queer friendly. "You're a good lad" "not either" my trans ass is so happy
Also this season is still so ace even though they kiss it still feels very ace energy to me. Maybe it's just the lack of sexualized anything, or maybe it's the variety of body's that so rarely get shown on TV.
Crowleys heaven sneak
"Stay back"
One demon popped like a bubble. There was a sound effect and everything
The bad guys always say things that fucking hurt. They always have the right thing that cut to the core of the characters soft spots
Halo removal should be in more of the fanfics actually that scene was baller
If you watch as all the heaven and hell fight AZ cannot stop staring at crowley
Crowley fixing the bookshop so it stays the same, while AZ changes it. Symbolism something parallels something
Sheen's delivery of the news to crowley was so well done. It's joyful, yet the second he has to tell crowley you can see the hesitation. He doesn't even believe what he's saying. It starts to hurt and he doesn't know why. But hes already agreed. He needed to hear the girls talk more than crowley did and it shows.no notes
ENDING THE SEASON W THE RADIO SINGING THE ENDING FROM S1 WAS PERFECT
Can't wait for S 3 !!!!!
#good omens s2#good omens s2 spoilers#neil gaimen#david tennant#micheal sheen#crowly x aziraphale#aziraphale#crowley#aj crowley#lgbt#queer#go spoilers#go season 2
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CW: Me but ugly
Ya know what fuck it. I don't intend to this mid week. I wanna do it now while I've got the time and honestly I'm a bit excited.
This is John. He's the guy I used to be. I don't have many other pictures of him but I saved these ones for this purpose. They're some of the few I could stand for some reason.
It's hard to think I ever used to look like that. Think or act the way I did. You could go back right now and tell him the events of the past like year or so and honestly he'd probably understand it. Would be too scared as shit nervous and doubtful to ever believe it. Hated himself too much to imagine it being this way.
This is how I started off on Hormones 1 year ago. 5/31/22. Somewhere between 11/7/21 and 4/9/22 everything went to shit. I crashed my motorcycle and broke my arm, ended up broke, didnt get into grad school, the girl I was madly in love with just let me know I was being replaced by someone with a pussy. It took about everything happy in my life turning to shit over night to finally crack the egg that I had been growing in for so long.
There were signs before. Things I always knew. Always hung out with girls. Liked sapphic content. Felt detachment from peers of my agab, enjoyed pretending at being an internet femboy. Horribly autistic. Fucking hated my body. Hated hated hated hated hated. I had a closeted sissy kink and dressed up FOR YEARS. So much more. Eventually I started hooking up with trannies the same way I hooked up with lesbians and things began to click. Something in me thought ya know what, I don't have to just admire and adore and yearn for them. Then a good friend of mine consoling me one April night more or less extended an invitation and I didn't look back.
And then she was born. I think these photos are from maybe a month post starting HRT. Would you believe I hadn't seen myself without facial hair in like 10 years before this point. I hadn't shaved it all off since I was 13. I'm hispanic. Greek and Cuban so I've had this accursed facial and body hair for fucking ever. I was so afraid the first time I picked up that razor. I didnt know if I'd like what was on the other side. I felt safe and secure in the validation I got from other people that I thought it'd be ok if I was just unhappy with myself forever. I hated whatever I was so much that I didnt have the energy to care for her.
Then I shaved.
I looked in the mirror and I thought that girl looked kinda cute. For the first time I really didnt think I looked so bad. My friends were very supportive thankfully. Not everyone was. Certainly not dear old dad who still wont call me by my name or gender me properly. The man who told me god had cursed him with 2 faggots. My little trans brother and I. The man who let me know I was a disappointment and that neither I or anyone of us were real women. I still havent forgiven him for so much. But I am trying to let it go. Even the cis people were kinda nice. I lost some who were kinda edgy friends from highschool. Nothing of value was lost.
Since then I've worked to navigate the professional world as a woman. My first boss at my first real post college job was this British woman from England who made my life kinda hell. Preyed upon and picked on me and embarrassed me professionally. One of the 2 other women at the office. She never would admit to it but I think she resented me for it. I was also the only tranny there. Well sorta. There was 1 other who worked down in facilities doing the trash and dishes for the labs. But not up there. Not on the 8th floor with us in the "war room".
And this is where and who we are now 1 year later. Same eyes. Same 5'0 looking ass. But happier. Smiles when she looks in the mirror. Can actually do things for herself. Set boundaries. Care. Maybe she can even love too. I've placed myself into countless lesbian romance fantasies and I feel like I have a shot at living them. I used to be like 200 pounds. I'm down to 128 and also built like a brick house full of muscle. I was horrified of being trapped in that body of mine forever and the fear and doubt that I'd never make it even this far scared me into doing nothing until i had little else to lose.
Let me leave you with some wise advice that friend who cracked my egg once gave to me: The best time to plant a tree is 20 years ago. The second best time is right now.
Transitioning was the best decision I ever made for myself. Happy birthday Morrigan. I love you.
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But Papa! Why? Chapter 39
"You look stunning, sweetheart." Cora pulled the lapels of Robert’s costume straight; she then fixed his emerald, green tie.
"Why are you not dressed yet?" Robert stroke over Cora's nightrobe.
"Rosamund asked me to keep it a surprise from you." She got on her tiptoes and kissed his waiting lips. "You will need to be a little bit more patient."
Robert's hand rested on Cora's lower back. "You and my sister are being mean, but I guess I will have to get used to that."
"It would make your life easier, if you did. Now skedaddle, Marmaduke is waiting for you. And I need to go to Rosamund. I will see you at the photo location."
"Can you remind me why they are going to take the photos before the ceremony?" Robert kept his hand on Cora's back, obviously reluctant to let go of her.
Soaking up the warmth of his hand, Cora leaned in on him. "Marmaduke will have much more energy at the beginning of the day. That way, the pictures will be perfect."
"But they will not be wearing a wedding ring yet."
"They will, and then after the pictures are taken, they take them off for the ceremony."
Robert bent down and kissed Cora's neck. "You have thought about everything my dear."
"This was not my idea, but Baxter’s. Rosamund loved it and also Marmaduke agreed it would be the best option. The credits do not belong to me. Can you please hurry and leave, I need to get ready."
"I could just stay and watch you getting ready."
"No, you cannot." Resolute Cora stepped back, forcing Robert's hand to leave her backside.
+++
"Are you nervous?" Cora pinned up the last curl on Rosamund's head. She had made a half up do, some strings were lost, and framing her face. Rosamund had applied a light shading of her make-up, just enough to lighten up her face, but not enough to see she was wearing makeup.
"Not really. Is that weird?" Rosamund turned around to look at Cora.
Cora rested her hands on Rosamund's shoulders. "I do not think that it is weird. Although I can guarantee you that I will be nervous on my wedding day."
"If I was marrying Robert, I would be nervous too."
Both woman burst out laughing until there was a knock on the door. "Enter." Cora managed to get out.
Baxter stepped in. "I am sorry to interrupt the fun, but we should go."
Cora stepped back to look at Rosamund. Baxter stood next to her, and they both nodded in agreement. "You look marvellous." Baxter said staring at her. Rosamund was standing in her strapless jumpsuit. Her red curls gave her an angelic look.
"Thank you sweet. You both look amazing too. Baxter, thank you for wearing a pantsuit too."
"I have to admit, I was relieved when you came with that request. It is a lot easier to move around wearing pants."
"Marmaduke can count himself lucky that he will be marrying you." Cora said, smiling at her.
"I can say the same thing about you." Rosamund looked at Cora's emerald, green jumpsuit. It had one shoulder and Cora was beaming in it. "Robert will faint when you walk into the venue."
"I will have a hard time keeping his hands of me, I am afraid." Cora quickly closed her mouth and with bright red cheeks she looked at Baxter. "I am sorry, that was too much information."
"I have seen how his Lordships looks at you and a I can only be jealous of that."
Cora cringed when she said his Lordship, but she tried to not show it.
"Did you ever look at how Molesley looks at you?" Rosamund chipped in. "Can you please call him Mr. Crawley or just Robert. I do not like the use of our titles, especially not today."
"I am sorry, it is a habit I guess."
"Let us go, Marmaduke will think you are abandoning him if we stay here any longer." Cora hooked her arm in Rosamund's.
+++
They arrived at Hampstead Heath; the photos would be taken around The Pergola. A beautiful hidden area in Golders Hill Park. The wisteria was growing everywhere and would offer a perfect background for wedding pictures.
Cora let Rosamund walk in front of her. She could see Marmaduke and Robert waiting and her heart jumped by all the excitement. Marmaduke did look good today and it made her happy.
"My darling." Marmaduke uttered when he saw Rosamund. He got up from the chair he was sitting in and spread his arms, once Rosamund was close enough, he took her hands and twirled her around. "I was expecting a dress, but you made an excellent choice with this." He paused and said in a whisper. "What do you call this?" He took the fabric between his fingers.
"A jumpsuit my dear. Thank you, you look mesmerising too. How are you feeling?"
"You can ask me this question once today and then after we will go and enjoy today without the worries of tomorrow."
Cora could see Baxter taking shots from different angles, without being noticed by the pair. She knew she had made the right decision to ask Baxter, she had seen her work on several occasions and every time she amazed her how she did it. She moved like a shadow. She felt hands on her hips and a low voice said.
"You did an outstanding job with her hair, sweetheart."
Cora turned her face so she could see Robert, who was standing behind her. "Thank you. She does look amazing, does she not?"
"So do you." Robert twirled her around, like Marmaduke did with Rosamund. "No dress, even though it almost looks like a dress. I love how well I can see your figure." His hungry fingers moved over her hips and thighs.
Softly Cora put her hand on his hand. "Tonight, you can play with this jumpsuit, but for now our attention should lay with Marmaduke and Rosamund."
+++
"You may kiss the bride." Molesley said and all the guest cheered. Cora noticed that even Violet was clapping. The moment Rosamund stepped into the aisle, Violet had gasped, but a quick gesture from Patrick made her swallow her reaction. Cora even saw her say that Rosamund looked beautiful when she walked past. Cora found it strange that Rosamund did not want her mother with her while preparing for today. But that was how their relationship was and she had gladly stepped in to help Rosamund with getting dressed. She felt Robert putting his arm around her waist. She looked up at him and whispered. "You did good by arranging this."
Once everybody had congratulated the newlyweds, the buffet was opened. The band started playing and people went on the dance floor quickly after they finished the food.
Robert took Cora's hand and guided her towards a free spot. "Can you Walz?"
Cora smiled, it was one of the things her mother had insisted on she would learn from a young age, ballroom dancing. With confidence she took his hand and got in position. This erupted a big smile on Robert's face. "That means yes."
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Be with Me
From: MHA Male Masterlist
Part One: Fairytale
Pairing: Shoto x Reader
Summary: You actually get your fairytale after all
Warnings: None
Everything felt like a dream to you. He has been giving you kisses whenever you thought about it and sometimes just talk about something random with him.
“I wish this could last forever.” You smiled at him.
“It won’t last.”
“What?”
“I am not real and you know this.”
“You are real.”
“No, I am not you just need to wake up.”
Everything disappeared around you. You felt as if you were falling. And there were pictures around you of everything that happened between you two. The thoughts. The memories. And then you heard a beep. And that's when you woke up to find yourself in the hospital but no Shoto. Then you saw someone walk inside your room.
It was the doctor.
"Hello. I see you have woken up from your coma."
Coma? How long have you been out?
"And I see your boyfriend is still here with you." He pointed towards the other side of you. You looked over to see Shoto sleeping right beside you. "He really cares about you and he has been coming every day to come check on you. I will have the nurses come in and check on your vitals to make sure everything is okay." He walked out the door and you turned beside him. You didn't want to wake up Shoto. You look down at your arms to see things hooked up toward you. You still don't know how long you have been out.
"My love?" You looked at him in his eyes. It was filled with stars. He hugged you carefully and kissed you all around your face. "I thought I lost you. Don't you ever think about leaving me ever."
"I would never plan on it." He kissed you all over your face. "How long have I been out?"
"Like almost a year. I have been waiting for you. I prepared everything for when you woke up. I just felt like today that you were going to be awake."
You still kept thinking about the life you had in your coma. The life that is happening right now with him. But the only difference is that you are royalty in that reality. You didn't care as long as you had your Shoto everything was okay.
The nurses came inside to check on you and make sure that you are okay. Shoto was right there beside you holding your hand throughout the way.
It is like the reality you had in your coma was here. Your prince is here with you. The dream you had was most likely you in your past life with him. You noticed everything was slowing down. The mouths of the nurses were moving slowly. You felt as if you could get up. You got off of your bed while bringing the medical item with you that was still having needles stuck inside of your arm. The floor was glittering and guided you outside of your room.
But the outside looked like the ballroom. You saw Shoto standing right there. "I see you have woken up my love." He got closer to you. "I had a fun time with you during the time when you were in your coma. And now you are in the reality you are intended to be. Don't forget about me when you are still in this reality." He kissed your hand.
He disappeared and now you were back in your bed with the ladies talking. "So everything looks fine. Your lover is good to go. We would keep her for one more day just to make sure everything is okay." Todoroki just nodded. "If you need us don't be afraid to press the button." They waved goodbye and left the room.
"So what did you think about when you were in your coma?"
"I was thinking about us. But we were royalty." He smiled at you but didn't say anything to you. He kissed your forehead.
"I really think you are maybe on to something." He was going to say something else but stopped himself. "Are you hungry?" You nodded. "I will go get you something to eat." He walked out of the room.
Even when he walked out you were a bit suspicious of him. What was he trying to say to you? Maybe it was nothing. But all you know is your happily ever after is right here with you. And that happily ever after is anywhere that Shoto is.
#mha fanfiction#mha x reader#mha todoroki#mha#bnha shoto todoroki#shoto torodoki#shoto fluff#shoto x y/n#bnha shoto#todoroki shoto#todoroki x you#bnha todoroki#todoroki x reader#todoroki x y/n
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okay look i might have forgotten i can long post here. so. here you go: this is the actual context for that picture i did last night (here) which i have only somewhat edited from a discord message i sent someone so hopefully this is coherent. spaghetti incoming
here's the fucking description of what i've been thinking about for like the past two months. so i think as i mentioned [well, maybe not here actually, come to think of it. for those who didn't know: this is the context of how i first came up with this] i ran through the episodes from when hongo left to when hayato came in in one single sitting after my covid booster when i was running a fat fever and i could not stop thinking about that ep where hongo "misses" his friends wedding because his actor is down for the count. i get why it happened logistically but y'know it just seems sooooo out of character for him. but maybe it could make sense with the right context... therefore: there must be something more important going on that he's just not telling people about for some reason. hayato enters, he's like "oh yeah hongo saved me!!" there we are. that right there is a hook for me. started thinking.
since hayato got rescued by hongo he didnt necessarily need to be awake for the rescuing or even for the surgery to be nearly as complete as hongo's was. hongo's a smart guy right. he could finish the surgery maybe. was not aware of V3 at this point so you know what? my brain is just huge. anyway. the theory then was: hongo scooped hayato out of there and wrapped up what little was left to wrap up at home.
that took care of my issues:
why the fuck did he miss the wedding: probably he was waiting for hayato to wake up
why was he gone so often and would only show up ask Kamen Rider: he was off showing hayato the ropes. i can see him being like a mother hen and trying to ease him into all the discomforts of being a borg (he unplugs his fridge so it doesn't make noise and distract hayato's Newly Sensitive Ears, dimming the lights even more than is normal in hongo's ridiculously dark bachelor pad, etc.) (i don't think hayato needs this i just take hongo as both a little neurotic and sensitive to stimuli) (I AM TOO i can say that) (hayato's way more interested in the cool borg stuff)
why didn't he tell anyone: borg issues and being afraid of shocker catching wind before hayato was up and running. makes total sense to me; the wombo combo of Hongo Problems
i don't have a way to end this post besides telling you that i think this makes sense and i like it :) obviously now that i'm in V3 and know that hongo CAN actually borg someone up... he had to have experience with that and what better way to start than to have tightened the last couple screws and put the finishing touches on hayato to save him too
#making spaghetti#the wombo combo of hongo problems#i don't know why i used that phrase but it's been stuck in my head since
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(i have no idea how OnlyFans works, so, uh, whatever. LOL thanks group chat!!!)
Heather wakes up to her phone dinging.
WAKE UP, GIRL, NEW CHIP REVIEW INCOMING, Julie’s message thread screams. Heather scrambles out of her blankets and kicks free, grabbing her laptop. He never gives them lead-up time, the asshole; they’ll get maybe five minutes before the stream goes live at all hours of the day (and night), and as a result, Heather’s had to deal with her phone notifications all night just to ensure she doesn’t miss one of the reviews.
She pulls up OnlyFans, grateful that she lives alone in a crappy studio apartment and gets her own credit card bills now, so her parents can’t see that monthly charge. Yikes. Having to explain that one would be a nightmare.
Her phone dings again. Some monstrosity from Japan that was sent to his P.O. Box.
Fucking amazing, Heather writes back.
The video starts up. It always starts empty, because Hook films all his own videos in the laziest way possible and doesn’t seem to have a camera with a count-down. He slides onto the screen in a hideous neon green sweatshirt and holds up the bag of chips, which sports three pictures of fire, something in Japanese that Heather can’t read, and in English, CALBEE KAATAGE - GRILLED SEAWEED.
“Girl, no,” Heather says to her computer screen. “What in the hell...”
Her phone lights up. The chat says someone paid $100 to get him to wear that sweatshirt.
It’s hurting my eyes!! Heather returns. At least Hook’s good looks help neutralize the glaring hue of the sweatshirt. Last week, it had been hot pink camo. Heather and Julie are planning to go in together to see if they can’t pay enough to get him to wear a sweatshirt with the bisexual flag colors.
Hook sits down on his couch that looks like he fished it out of a landfill. Really, it’s all part of his weird charm. The number of viewers along the bottom leaps up past two hundred, then three hundred, and then five hundred as everyone logs on to try and catch the latest reaction. Hook opens the bag of weird Japanese chips and takes one out, studying it for a few moments before popping it in his mouth. He chews. Heather sucks in a quick breath, afraid to move.
Then he sort of nods, frowning. “Hmm.”
Oh, he didn’t like that one! Julie’s text reads. Buuuuurn.
The feed cuts out. Heather updates the list of flavors she’s keeping on her laptop with the verdict. Then she swings her legs out of bed to get ready for work, glad that Hook decided to start the stream at a more sensible time this morning. The 3 AM ones are killing her.
++
The next one is three days later. They’re starting to pick up now that everyone is sending shit to his P. O. Box, trying to track down the most insane flavors available. Heather’s already on her computer watching YouTube, so she tabs over to OnlyFans when the notification email startles her out of her reverie.
When the video starts up this time, the chip bag is in front of the camera.
Oh my god, Julie texts. Holy shit it’s the one chip challenge.
Who the fuck sent him this?? Heather writes back.
Hook settles on his couch, holds up one finger. Oh my god, he’s really going to do it. He might burn his tongue clean off, and then where would they be? Heather can’t survive without the chip reviews. Hook then holds up a glass of milk, so at least he’s smart enough to be prepared. But still, Heather is almost afraid to watch. (His sweatshirt is dotted with red hearts; definitely something someone sent in for him to wear.)
Then the chat on the side of Heather’s screen blows up, capslock for miles.
HOLY SHIT, Julie says. DANHAUSEN IS HERE.
HE SENT IT, Heather returns. YOU KNOW HE DID.
She’s pretty sure she’s right when, in the chat, Danhausen’s weird little painted-face emoji says: hook has the spicy chip! perhaps he should take his sweatshirt off?
“YES, BAE,” Heather exclaims, pumping her fists in the air.
On screen, Hook squints, focusing on the comment. Then he sighs, rolling his eyes in a grand show, before standing up and pulling the sweatshirt free over his head. The chat, as expected, goes nuts again. Hook’s been hitting the gym or something--his shoulders look broader. It’s impossible to see that under the bulky sweatshirts he wears all the time. Heather likes to focus on the tattoo near his left collarbone on the rare occasions when the stream finally nudges down a direction OnlyFans is better known for.
yes, very good, Danhausen says in the chat. Heather could kiss his weird clown emoji for making her day so much better. the fanhausens are happy now.
Hook gives the video feed a middle finger, and then pops the chip in his mouth. Chews. Furrows his brow. “Eh.”
Anticlimactic, Julie writes.
But then Hook starts coughing. Heather loses it, because it’s always the part that comes after that gets people. She laughs so hard she nearly snorts water out her nose as Hook scrambles around on the screen for the glass of milk. In his flailing, he manages to knock the whole thing over.
Oh no!! Julie’s text says.
Suddenly, Heather is afraid Hook will actually die and then her will to live will follow.
oh, oh, hold please, Danhausen says in the chat. Then he disappears, his emoji vanishing.
Hook’s stumbled off-screen, but his harsh coughs are still audible. Heather stares at the shadows along the back of his couch. In the background, a door opens, a clicking latch. Then, the sound of glass against a countertop. Mumbling that’s not at all comprehensible over the sound of Hook’s continued hacking.
Finally, Hook sits back down with a new glass of milk. It seems to help. He glares at the camera and gives the feed a thumbs down.
Wait, wait, wait, wait, Julie says. What just happened. Someone was in there with him.
Was DANHAUSEN in there with him?? Heather fires back.
OH MY GOD, Julie screams. ARE THEY DATING. IS THAT WHAT THIS IS.
The stream ends. Heather thinks she might expire.
Holy shit, she types. Holy shit. That’s why D is the only one who can ask for Hook to take his sweatshirt off without getting IMMEDIATELY banned.
We should have known he wasn’t single, Julie mourns. My whole 10-year life plan is ruined.
Yeah, Heather’s going to have to rework some things on her vision board. She sighs. But, on the flip-side, at least Hook isn’t dead, and she’ll get to keep watching the chip reviews.
It’s the little things.
#this is easily the most insane thing i have ever written#but oh ho the group chat has spoken#and this is what came out of it
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i would read your candyman dissertation ms garak-pussy-indulgence
There's so much I want to say I cannot get it all out into one post like how do I organize that shit.
Ok number one. the fuck. Jesus okay wait there are so many takes I have about this movie
First off I love that it's an elaboration on a typical horror movie. They lay out the "there's a scary guy who appears in the mirror when you say his name and kills you with his hook" premise in the first FIVE MINUTES and the rest of the movie is spent going BEYOND THAT. You could definitely just make a movie about Candyman killing a dwindling party of teens or whatever the whole time or and have yourself a slasher film. But no. No!!!?! The movie decides to keep going further and explore What That Means. What is an urban legend? Is an urban legend itself a phantom? Can enough people manifest these things simply by believing in them? Is Candyman real? It's uncertain for the whole film if he was a real entity, or if Helen just invented him and she was the actual person doing the killings like everyone assumed. Was it both? Can you lose control to a character you create in your own head? Let me tell you about what happened when I was 15. I'm not gonna do that but listen it's about the belief. He needs the faith of his congregation. The swarm of bees in his chest and the constant pervasive choir in the film's score represents the masses who believe in the Candyman, who are afraid of him, who tell each other stories and warn others about him. That gives him life. He exists and lives as rumor and thrives in other people's words. Fuck. Fuck. ALSO. Love the takes on gentrification and minority communities in urban areas. When Helen's taking her lil pictures of the apartments for her college project and Anne-Marie comes out of her door like "Hi I fucking live here and I am a person actually." The whole story of the white woman involving herself in shit that she doesn't need to be part of just because she won't take any of it seriously and just wants to do her creepypasta research on the scary ghetto location where a real person actually died. This is the only shit I'm going to talk on Helen no disrespect to her I love her and that's probably not the biggest thing you're supposed to take away from the film but it's a take I formed in my brain. Another take I formed is that Helen and Bernadette are in love. Also when people say horror is about love they mean Candyman only because nobody else is doing it like this fucking film from 1992 alright. Bitches love the romantic murder men. Tony Todd has it nailed. Weirdo men wanting to kill me is not okay that happens all the time. Gentlemen wanting to kill me and being very polite and gentle about it? I love u I trust you I'm absolutely on board. Straight up I want to be killed romantically if I die in any way at all. Phillip Glass wrote the most lovely killer gorgeous breathtaking bounce-off-the-fucking-walls-and-burrow-into-the-earth-with-my-hands score for this film and this movie would NOT be what it is if not for the music. Absolutely fucking not. Just listen to the soundtrack or I will fucking find you do not test me. It's so much. You're gonna play absolutely celestial divine music that sounds like purest form of love while the scary guy is coming to stab you? Nobody is fUCKING doing it like this movie. It's the bliss of it all. Man door hand hook car door is gonna get ya but for some reason you're absolutely floating on a cloud made of pure light and he's also your boyfriend. Everything is on fire including you and you could not be more at peace. This movie gives me emotions I require to survive. Love, acceptance, bliss, predestination. It's meant to be this way and everything will be alright. Also Ted Raimi is in it.
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Free Audiobook on Youtube with a private feedback comment included.
youtube
I know this is a repost, but bear with me. There is a reason for it. I'm making sure you know what this comment is about. These next paragraphs between the quotes are not my words. They were written to me in a kind of letter attached to the first chapter of my book. Noonibean was doing me a solid just because she wanted to. She quit after the fifth chapter. Still grateful years later anyway.
This is purely a copy paste, I changed nothing:
"Please forgive me; I started off using Microsoft track changes, but it was taking me FOREVER and I was also afraid all the notes and splices might confuse you. So I went ahead and just gave everything a facelift and kept it in black. Next time, I will write my changes in a different color.
Okay, so first of all, I really think you have something great here, and I’m not just blowing smoke. I love the world you have built, and I am already very intrigued by the storyline. You captured Johnny’s relationship with Little Girl beautifully, and the same goes for Goldie. You can tell they all care about each other deeply. Is it weird that Johnny kind of reminds me of Aladdin? Lol, I think it’s the desert vibe and the growing up with thieves thing.
I love that you started the story with a strong action hook, but since you backtrack from there, I’m wondering if you can find a clear and concise way to transition into the past. Even if it’s a sentence or two about his mind going back into the past as he runs. (He doesn’t actually reach the rocks/resting place in this chapter, right? I just assumed he was running this whole time.)
You paint the pictures and scenes wonderfully, and I can imagine all of it as I read – just be careful not to add too much where explanation isn’t necessary. I noticed you have a tendency to over-explain certain things about the characters or the situation. We don’t always need to know the “why.” Try to keep it clean and concise so as not to slow down the narrative. This first chapter is extremely tough too, because it is practically all narrative and there is very little dialogue. Just because you know certain things about the characters doesn’t mean your audience needs to know them. Let them figure a few things out for themselves. Remember to give your readers the credit they deserve. They are smarter than you think, and not everything has to be explained to them, especially when you “show” rather than “tell.” All the rest is just fluff. For example, because you’re a good writer, I already assumed LG could see well in the dark, and I knew how much Johnny cared about her.
Basically, I went in and corrected some grammar, and trimmed the “fat” to make everything read tighter without affecting the real meat of the story. For example, instead of three paragraphs about Johnny’s sand ship, we really only need one-and-a-half. The narrative I cut out can easily be peppered in throughout the rest of the book if absolutely necessary, so let me know if there was something I took out that was crucial. I don’t think I did, though.
Regarding the action scenes, remember that tight, short sentences convey the sense of urgency best. Longer sentences slow the action down, so I shortened the cliff jumping scene as well as the fight scene. Another thing I did was re-arrange sentences to make them flow more naturally, and remove “filler” adjectives along with invisible words like “that” and “of.”
I tried to deepen Johnny’s point of view. For example, since we are in his POV, you wouldn’t need to say: “He knew there was a way to drive down from up there.” You would simply put: “There was a way to drive down from up there.” Since we are in his mind, he already knows it. Know what I mean?
Lastly, words like “was” and “to be” tend to make a story read more passively, so I like to use them sparingly. If I can think of a different way to word the sentence without using those passive words, I will do that instead. Example of a passive sentence (which we don’t want): “He was tired and hungry.” Same thing, but active instead: “Wariness overcame him, and his stomach growled with hunger pangs.”
Also, is it Prince Richard or King Richard? I was hella confused, lol. It’s king in the beginning, and then Prince after that. I would choose one and stick with it or explain why he is now being called Prince.
I really hope some of this made sense. I tend to ramble. Let me know what you think about the edits I made. I am really looking forward to reading more!"
This is a comment from a lovely lady that goes by Noonibean on DeviantART. I am respecting her privacy by not posting her real name. I did follow her advice in my manuscript and on my posts for this book on DeviantART (I'm CherokeeGal1975 there too), but the fixes do not appear in the actual novel because I'm doing a hands off policy until I can get some more help from a professional editor. But I thought I'd share this since she did have some very positive things to say about my book.
I can't fix the audiobook, that will have to come much later. I think I'd rather hire someone to be my reader once I have all the work done I need to do. Not sure when that will be, but I set it as a life goal...or to put it another way, it's on my bucket list.
I'd love to read what you think as well.
P.S. - Noonibean did the cover art for my Kindle version of Unexpected Cargo. I would've used it for my paperback version of it, but for some reason Amazon wouldn't let me. So I just keep that cover art as a treasured file.
#cherokeegal1975#cat#fantasy#youtube#mpreg#dragon#digital art#mpreg birth#mpregnancy#art discussion#feedback please!#Youtube
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Tuesday March 26th 3:26pm
Hello I know I know it's been some time. lots of spelling errors coming your way. I have started carrying around a little notebook so I can write down snippets of things that have happened so I can remember to write about them later. here we go
lets start with Saturday night. The usual group goes out and grace comes since we were close to getting back together (more on that later). We meet up with my good friend Ava at BP. Earlier in the week she posted on her story a picture of me calling me her crush as a joke bc we fuck off a lot and are idiots (love). This bitch Belle who I have hated since the day I fucking met her which was well well over a year ago.
Okay wait context: when me and P were dating his brothers formed a cutie little band and they needed a singer and idk I guess belle was friends with one of them but she joined. She always gave me shady vibes and they were reassured by her being fucking weird with P's brother while she had a boyfriend. Me and P used to talk the biggest shit about her and her behavior so all in all she has always rubbed me the wrong way. Well when she found out P and I had broken up (we were still seeing each other mind you) this bitch went full fucking speed clinging to P's dick. Posting him and asking him to hangout just the two of them, buying him things yada yada. Of course I bitched about it to P and he just amped it up bc it made me jealous.
So I have just icky vibes about her and knew they would hook up once P and I finally stopped talking. What do you know, rumor has it they do and no one is surprised at fucking all. Thank god I'm past the point where that caught me up bc it was sickening to hear about. Now it gives me second hand embarrassment. I feel like the first rule of thumb when you have a rebound is to make sure they are at least even remotely on the same level as your ex.
Anyways Ava posted me and Belle's fucking SISTER slide up going on about how I'm crazy and broke into P's house (no lmao just no) and yada yada. I wanna know if they all have so much to say why do you avoid bluepost so damn much??? yap yap yap on the internet and in my friends dm's and all ups and down town but cannot say shit to my face? Typical.
Can someone please let this 2 by 4 with eyes know that I am not a threat to her relationship with an AI generated line cook with 0 passion or excitement about anything that would extend past algebra and chess. Like please. Im so stupid to think everything was chiller. Legit thought everything was fine I was like like oh we both moving on that chill there is no bad blood lmao. WRONG> WREONG WRONG MALENA.
Also to me there is something about being with a man who is only not still fucking with his ex bc SHE moved on first. That just does not sit right with me. P came back from his trip ready to revamp whatever we had before he left and if I hadn't moved on (thankfully) while he was gone then we would still be swimming in the same circle. Whatever girl he has now or next or whatever he got going on that is not my business has got her work cut out for her. Lord have mercy.
I was really okay about it all but now I just feel like frustrated bc I do not understand why it matters much anymore. Miss me or dont but thats on you. Somedays I'm nostolgic about it somedays im not but im also never afraid to own up to my feelings or behavior. Im confused why men fuck with me and are obsessed with me bc im "different" "weird" "crazy" and "love that you dont act nonchalant" but when they cross me and I still behave that way THEN its a problem?
Mistakes are made when men think they are the exception and they never are nor will be ever again lmao.
I have soccer practice now so I'll have to write more later in the evening.
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Wreckless - Scratch this itch
*Warning Adult Content*
Emmett Locke pulled out his cell-phone and started scrolling way back, looking for a picture of him with short hair or the very least, no beard.
"While I look... same question. Tell me something I don't know."
That was fair although Finnegan wasn't sure what to tell him. Emmett's time spent in the military had been the perfect response. It was an important chunk of his life and something that Finnegan had no idea about. It had been such a good answer that he felt obligated to match it but he was struggling to come up with anything.
"Okay, this is almost no beard. I'll keep looking for an older pic."
Finnegan couldn't stop his sharp inhale. Ink, awesome. He couldn't wait to see it live and in person.
"Damn. Okay, I was really thinking a minute ago when you said you'd shave that it would be a crying shame but this, that's... really nice."
"I'm glad you approve. Growing hair is easy, changing the face, not so much."
He was starting to worry he didn't have a picture at all and wonder if he was gonna have to call Andy to see if he had one when Finnegan shrieked and jumped up onto the chair.
"Oh my fucking GOD there's a HUGE a... a..." he gasped, pointing into the living room. "Lord make me an angel so I can fly far, far away from here. Emmmmmettttt..."
He panicked for about half a second but then saw Marten out of the corner of his eye. That little devil, how had he made it through or around the plexiglass? He really was getting too smart for his own good.
"It's okay," he managed to half sob through his laughter.
"What the fuck are you laughing at?" Finnegan asked while he deliberated hopping onto the table.
"You. You can get down, shit. Oh damn, that was funny. I'm sorry but you should have... Finnegan, it's my ferret. I told you I was letting him out but I thought he'd stay upstairs, I'm sorry. Oh God, you are so red. Are you okay?"
"Ferret?" Finnegan snapped.
"As in a pet?"
"Yes, yes. Oh damn. You are... I'm sorry. I am but I can't... I can't stop. The look on your face."
He tried to at least quiet his laughter and even managed to get his mouth shut for some of it but every time he almost had it under control, a few more giggles escaped.
"You never said ferret. You said Marten. How was I supposed to know what it was?"
Now Emmett had to add confused to his current vast array of emotions.
"I can't let a dog out from the second story. What did you think I had up there?"
"Honestly I didn't really think about it all that much, I was too busy watching your ass when you walked towards the steps. But it could be a bird. There are other options that don't look like... a huge rat."
Mock indignation spread across Emmett's face.
"He looks nothing like a rat and besides, the rats here are much bigger. I'm sorry, I really am. I didn't mean to scare you. I have a gate at the top of the stairs and he's not supposed to be able to get through it but well, ferrets are fun like that. Do you want to meet him?"
Finnegan took a second to try to calm himself down. He decided that if Emmett could forget him hopping onto a chair and squealing like a corseted woman out of some old movie, he could forgive Emmett and the ferret as well. At least he hadn't fainted. As quick as lightning, an idea popped into his head.
"Marten with an e? As in a pine marten?"
He scooped up the little menace. No one had ever gotten the reference before and Emmett was impressed.
"Yes, exactly. Pine martens are cuter but don't look at me like that Marten, ferrets are better pets, mostly because they're legal."
When Finnegan reached out to pet him, Emmett relaxed a little, glad that he wasn't still afraid of the monster.
"I'm glad you don't hate him."
"This little guy? Never. Now you, on the other hand..."
He waited until Emmett's mouth turned down and he made a puppy dog face before letting him off the hook.
"Okay, okay. It was a simple misunderstanding."
"I'm going to put him back in his cage. There's ice cream in the freezer if you'd like. Help yourself and get me a bowl if you're having any."
Well that depended on the flavor. Finnegan washed his hands quickly and opened the freezer. Cookie dough, yes, that he could do. He pulled it out and fairly easily found two bowls and two spoons.
"I had salad with dinner so I decided that after my trauma, I deserve a treat," he said as Emmett came down the stairs.
"You more than earned it."
He grabbed his bowl, stopping to open the fridge and grab the chocolate sauce. Finnegan could barely contain his glee.
"I liked you before but now you may be my favorite."
As soon as Emmett had finished with the syrup and put it back on the table, he grabbed it, drenching his ice cream. As soon as he did it he regretted it.
"Sorry, I got a little carried away."
"No worries, enjoy."
Finnegan was pretty sure that he meant it so he tried not to dwell and enjoy his ice cream instead.
"Dinner was great, thank you."
"Other than the great ferret escape. I really am sorry."
He hadn't brought a guy back to his house since New Years and that had been a very quick, very late-night hookup. Cooking dinner for someone who didn't already know about Marten just didn't happen very often... or ever.
"I've had a good time. Maybe we should do it again."
When Finnegan didn't say anything, listening as he licked the back of the spoon, Emmett took a deep breath and tried to stay focused on the conversation.
"Could I take you on a real date? There are some really cool little places in Baltimore and lots to do."
"I..." Finnegan stumbled over his words, opening his mouth before thinking about his answer.
"I'm pretty busy, Emmett."
As it was, his alone time was barely enough to keep him going throughout the week. Everyone was busy but people made time for things that were important to them. Emmett didn't exactly sit around on his ass seven days a week but he knew that Finnegan was probably even busier... still.
"Next weekend? A couple of hours? You should see some of the city while you're here but if you don't want it to be with me, that's cool."
Finnegan stood up, grabbed the empty bowls and set them in the sink.
"It's getting late and I should go."
For some reason, he had a really hard time saying no to this man.
"But maybe I could do next weekend. Not Sunday morning though. I go to church."
"I sleep on Sunday mornings so that's not a problem. Okay, let me walk you out."
When they got to the door, he touched Finnegan's elbow.
"I can't do this outside so we need to do it in here."
Finnegan thought it was about damn time. He didn't know where this was going but a few dates and a little bit of fun were impossible to pass up. He saw hesitation flicker over Emmett's eyes and thought it was cute. It was nice being hit on by guy who didn't just assume that he was God's gift to men and that everyone would want him. He expected a halting, shy kiss at first but that's not what he got.
He ended up pinned against the door, his hands fisting through Emmett's hair. Emmett was a goner. He loved that Finnegan was only an inch shorter than himself, just enough of a height difference to help with some of the logistics. His hands roamed, slipping down his back and then down to cup his ass as he pulled him forward, longing for more contact. When Finnegan brought his tongue out to play, Emmett couldn't help but moan but he forced himself to pull back a minute later.
"I could stay."
At least for a couple of hours, even all night if Emmett wanted him to. It was Friday and Finnegan didn't want this to end quite yet. Emmett couldn't believe what was going to come out his mouth but he forced out the words because he knew they were true.
"You have no idea how much I want you to but I don't think it's a good idea."
Finnegan shook his head slightly, trying to clear the haze.
"Why not?"
Emmett had been the one to ask him out, what was the problem?
"I'm afraid if this goes any further tonight and we scratch this itch, that's all there will be and I'm not done with you yet, darling. Not by a long shot."
Finnegan knew right away that the words were probably true. It would've been too easy for him to make an excuse during the week, to suddenly get busy.
"Maybe you're right."
"I hate that I am, Finnegan but it's for the best. I'll call you this week or you can call me, either way."
"Okay. Walk me out?"
"Of course. Text me when you get home, alright?"
"Sure. Thanks for tonight, Emmett."
He been so focused on work the past few months that he hadn't realized how much of a rut he'd fallen into. Tonight had been eye-opening.
"You're welcome. I had fun."
More fun than he'd had in awhile, that was for sure. He watched Finnegan pull away and went back inside, forcing himself to walk normally and not sing or do some crazy dance moves. As soon as he closed the door, he punched his fist into the air.
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