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blowflyfag · 2 years ago

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HEARTBREAK HOTEL

So! I originally wrote this for a friend of mine, and i dont usually focus on fem readers but i wanted to indulge her :) this is probably my... longest fic??? so get ready for a read folks. It is i wrote very early on.. so if it’s not the best i apologize. I also apologize for how much i describe the outfit and such since i did make it for a specific friend.

THIS IS AN 18+ FIC IF YOU ARE A MINOR DO NOT LOOK AT THIS PLEASE

anyways i hope you all enjoy it!!!

Your hands tugged slightly on the skirt you were wearing, hands clenching and uncleaning around the fabric as you sat on the plush red heart shaped bed. A palpable nerve in the air… the tall guy didn’t help much either, he was practically as tall as the doorway. Dressed in a black leather vest and pants and sunglasses even though the room was already dark enough. At least you thought it was. The way he kept adjusting his glove over and over caused a small pit of dread in your stomach, he could fucking snap you like a twig probably. You looked foreword to avoid him from seeing your own prying eyes and you glanced towards the open bathroom door. The only clear gleam of normal light coming from it, breaking up the dark red lights of the room you were in and showing the small fog of cigarette smoke that wafted from the bathroom. Hearing the humming from it revealed to you what waited for you… maybe we should go back a little.

You weren’t really… into wrestling. Sure you’d see it on tv every now and then, glance at a magazine in the store or hear others chat about it but you never really thought about it too much. However when the opportunity to see a showing of Monday Night Raw live presented itself to you? Well why not see what the fuss was about. And boy did you see what the fuss was about, it was… amazing! High flying action, people fighting. Hell someone even almost hit you from the metal gate. It was.. exhilarating! You found yourself quickly becoming a fan, Wrestlers like Double J, Yokozuna, you had a soft spot for heels… They were more interesting than the good guys! But your favorite bad guy… your favorite heel. Shawn Michaels.. he was many people's heart throb and the heartbreak kid maybe had you by the heartstrings. When showings weren’t happening in your town you'd find yourself rushing home to catch Monday Night Raw, just to possibly see the HeartBreak Kid.

But how did you end up in this cheesy love hotel? Well you and your friends decided to take a spontaneous trip. Las Vegas.. while you wouldn’t normally agree to it you had Paid Time off you needed to use and hey your friend offered for the ticket. Why not… and when you learned a showing of Monday Night Raw was happening at a theater near your hotel..? Well the two of you decided to go. It would be a fun memory! So there you two were at ringside, hooting and hollering as the match. You were dressed a bit nicer than usual. Your friend had spoken beforehand about how he knew someone who would be working at the event and could possibly slip the both of you backstage after it all to meet a few of your favorites! Maybe get an autograph signed luckily if possible but best to not push you luck too much. So you were dressed in a cute white top, a pale pink skirt and your favorite pink buckled shoes, walking in them could be a nightmare but god were they cute. The match was everything you could’ve wanted and more. Doink and Dink showed up to fight some new baby face, your friend got squirted by the flower Doink had on him, The Qubecers somehow won another match against the Smoking Guns but… that seemed to be a constant with how dirty they played.. and then the best part of the night show far. The familiar choir of woman’s moaning started and you let out an excited gasp. Shawn Michaels, with his bodyguard Big Daddy Cool Diesel making their way down the walkway and to the ring. The way he walked, the way he carried himself. God it was like being shot with Cupid’s bow and he was the first person you’d laid eyes on. You couldn’t deny that Diesel as well was a physical specimen to be gawked at. The embodiment of strength it seemed at some times, he reminded you almost of a Greek statue. As Shawn was doing his. “Glorified strip tease” to prepare for the match you watched the hat be flung in your direction. Excitedly you reached up to catch it in your grasp looking over to your friend with excitement evident in your face as you clung to the hat tightly in your grasp. For the match Shawn was going up against IRS. It was quite the match. Hell even Diesel walked by you guys for a moment to throw IRS back into the ring after Shawn had kicked him out. In the end Shawn won the match, dancing around as he did when he won that had you staring at every movement in awe.

Once the match had wrapped up you were grabbing your bag and looking towards the stairs before your friend grabbed you to motion for you to go back to your seat. “Hey. Remember what I said? My guy just needs us to wait for it to clear out a bit and then he’ll grab us ok? We just gotta wait.” He whispered to you and you nodded. Still holding onto the hat that had been flung at you with a giddiness in your soul. So you two sat, talking about the exciting match you had watched, your hopes for the next one you’d catch on tv before some came towards the gate. “Hey uh.. guys.” He seemed awkward… but this had to be the guy your friend had been talking about seeing how they got up to high five the guy.

“Kenny! My man! You hooked us up right? We’re not gonna get you fired or anything?” Your friend asked and this Kenny shook his head.

“Nahhh. The guys love meeting fans. ‘Specially the chicks.” Kenny said as he looked to you with a half smile. You offered your own weak smile back as you got up. Dusting yourself off before following him and your friend down the ramp, in a way following the footsteps so many wrestlers you were a fan of had.

There was a bustle and commotion in the backrooms of the arena, staff walking by hurriedly to pack up stuff and others talking loudly on flip phones about… well you didn’t even know what. You stuck close to your friend as your heels clicked against the ground. You felt an excitement boiling and bubbling in your stomach that you couldn’t deny, you were actually gonna be face to face with wrestlers you liked! Who were you even going to talk to first… should you ask questions.. would you- your thoughts were cut off by your nudging you. “Hey. You lost in your mind again or something?”

“Huh..? Yeah I’m sorry! I’m just.. really excited.” You offered with a small giggle and Kenny chuckled.

“It’s no worry! I can imagine how exciting this is. So. Who you wanna see first… wait. Let me guess.” He said with a smirk. Glancing back to you and then down to the hat in your hand. “Could it beeeee… The Heartbreak Kid?” He asked and your eyes widened a bit.

“Oh I wouldn’t want to be a burden! I know he was just in the ring and-“ Kenny cut you off abruptly.

“Oh trust me. He’s not gonna mind if it’s you sweetheart.” Kenny snickered before looking at your friend and smirking. “Razor Ramon?”

“What! Am I that predictable?” They asked with a snicker before looking back to you. “Hey… you gonna be ok with them on your own and stuff..? I can always stay with you before I meet Razor and-“ now it was your turn to cut someone off.

“I’ll be fine.” You gave his arm a reassuring squeeze. “Promise. I’m a big girl.” You giggled and your friend rolled his eyes. Shoving you playfully before you both continued to follow after Kenny before he stopped at a door and rapped on it a few times.

“Hey! You got a fan out here.” Kenny yelled through the door and you raised a brow as you heard what sounded like some stumbling before the door flew open. Shawn Michaels. Shawn Fucking Michaels was less then 3 feet in front of you. God he was even more beautiful up close. He looked at your friend first. Half expecting it to be him who wanted to meet him but your friend simply shook his head, motioning to you with a slight head movement.

You froze for a moment as the spotlight was put on you. You cleared your throat and smiled wide. Telling him your name as you took his hand to shake, except he didn’t. He pulled it to his mouth to place a chaste kiss upon it.. you nerves shot and you felt yourself let out a nervous giggle out of reflex, “you.. uh. Would you like this back?” You said as you offered the hat to him that he had thrown during the set. He looked at it before smirking towards you.

“If it’d make you happy you could keep it.” He offered and you let out a small hum of excitement. Looking at him with such admiration in your eyes.

Kenny cleared his throat as he clapped his hands together. “Alright. Perfect. Since you two are getting along so great. I’m gonna get our man here to his own meetup.” He said as he patted your friend on the chest and they rolled their eyes.

“You sure you’re gonna be fine?”

“More than fine.” You offered as you went to give your friend a playful nudge. They chuckled and nodded.

“Alright… just. Keep me in the loop alright?” They offered as you nodded excitedly and they scoffed before turning on their heel to follow after Kenny. You watched them walk off down the hall before feeling an arm wrap around your waist to pull you into their form.

“C'mon in. Be rude to leave you waiting out here in the cold.” Shawn said in a teasing tone that had you giggling like a dumb blond as you followed him into the locker room. He shut the door behind you once you had walked in. You looked around before stopping your movement, you noticed the large man near the locker, leaned against it as he pulled down his fingerless glove. Big Daddy Cool Diesel. Of course you knew him. He was Shawn’s bodyguard… of course he’d be here too.

“Big Daddy!” Shawn started enthusiastically as he placed his hands on your shoulders. “This is our friend (y/n)! She’s a real big fan.” He emphasized real, Causing you to offer a sheepish smile and small wave.

“It’s very nice to meet you.” You started and only received a glance from over his shades before he looked back up. Shawn rolled his eyes and gave your shoulders a small squeeze.

“Promise he’s more fun.. especially if we get him a bit warmed up. But what is it you want sweetheart? Photo? Autograph? What can Shawn Michaels do for you?” He asked effortlessly. As if it was a routine he had done a hundred and one times before.. or he was just a charming devil.

What.. Did you even want out of Shawn Michaels. I mean. You knew what you wanted. But you feared saying that would leave you being hauled away by security and banned from any more shows. You have a nervous smile as you shrug your shoulders. “I’m sorry I just.. I’m very excited to be here right now. It's hard to think straight.” You admitted�� and Shawn chuckled slightly. “

Oh I completely understand. I would be in awe in front of the Heartbreak Kid as well.”

Humble didn’t seem to be a word in Shawn’s dictionary. So for a while you stayed there. Absentmindedly talking about the match, other wrestlers, upcoming events that maybe you shouldn’t have been let on… but the insider knowledge did make you feel special. As the time kept ticking however Shawn eventually stretched. “Say. You got anywhere to be tonight?” He offered and you quickly shook your head.. what. It was only 11:30… and Vegas never seemed to sleep. “How about you come out with me and Diesel tonight? Make you feel real special. We’ll give you the work around.” He offered as he sprung up from his seat on the bench. Going towards the locker to slip his jacket on.

“Are you sure it won’t be a hassle? I don’t want to be any trouble getting back to my hotel and-“

“You can stay the night with us! It won’t be a burden at all!” Shawn interrupted you as he wrapped a hand around your shoulders to pull you close causing you to giggle. What the hell… why not. When would you ever have this chance again!

So here you were. After a night of being driven around by a taxi driver to see the lights and sights you found yourself in their hotel room… one bed. An obnoxious heart shaped bed that seemed less and less practical as you thought it over, that red wallpaper, and the smell. A smell of sex that never seemed to have fully escaped the room. Your grip tightened on your skirt as you glanced towards Diesel once again. He himself seemed a bit annoyed by Shawn’s… insistence on fixing himself up... but it had been what. 15 minutes now? But just as you thought it over Shawn came out of the bathroom with that lopsided smile that looked perfect on him.

“So sorry to keep you waiting sweetheart.” He said with a somewhat sincere tone. Leaning close to bringing your chin up to meet his gaze before glancing at Diesel. “Diesel! Least you could’ve done was warm the lady up bud. Last thing we’d want is for a fan to be uncomfortable right?” He asked with a cocked brow and Diesel grumbled something as he turned his head to the side.

“Is… is he gonna stay in here during… this?” You asked and Shawn let out a small hum.

“Oh Baby.” He began before smiling.

“We’re a package deal.” He said before bringing your lips to meet his. His kiss was needy. Desperate almost as his hands went to rest on your hips to pull him closer to him. Your own hands went to reach up to cup his face. A kiss that sent electric shocks through your body. It distracted you enough that you didn’t feel the bed dip from behind you, only feeling the sensation of large hands on your thighs and lips attaching to your neck. You let out a small gasp at the new sensations allowing for Shawn to deepen the kiss with you.

You were practically sandwiched between the two. Your wildest dreams finally coming true this very night. Your hands moved to grasp Shawn’s hair. Giving it a small tug which caused a small whine from him that sent shivers down your spine. Diesel’s hands gripped your thighs a bit tighter before the grip loosened as his hand slowly trailed up to the hem of your shirt. Shawn pulled away from the kiss leaving you panting for air as you raised your arms to help Diesel get you top off. You watched as it was thrown halfway across the room practically before watching as Shawn began to shimmy off the jeans he had been wearing, making a bit of a show out of it.. like he did with everything. However your attention was dragged around as you felt a large hand on your face. Directing you to look to the side where you were met by Diesel who continued where Shawn had left off. Kissing you deeply as his hand slowly trailed down your stomach towards the hem of your skirt. You quickly went to help. Sliding the fabric down your waist to leave you in only your undergarments. Diesel moved to slide his hand inside your underwear, large hands quickly finding that sensitive little Nub that had your hips bucking foreword.

“We’ve got a lively one huh?” Shawn teased with a wolfish smirk before sinking to his knees in front of you. “Works perfectly for me. I knew you’d warm her up just fine Diesel! Just next time.. why don’t you do it while I’m getting ready Hm? Don’t want it to be awkward for our company.” Shawn raised a brow before pulling your underwear down your leg and smiling wide at the prize presented to him. Diesel rubbing and teasing your clit, having you moan wildly into his mouth, Shawn quickly moved forward to latch onto your weeping cunt, licking eagerly which had you pulling away to cry out in pleasure. Legs shaking before Diesel set his free hand on one.

“Cmon. You can take it. You were doing so well!” His tone was almost teasing as his fingers kept circling your clit, having your stomach knot and coil. Your hands quickly went to grip the leather of Diesel’s pants and you cried out. Honestly the barrage from both of them had you cumming almost instantly, your back arching as you cried out in pleasure. Shawn pulled away from your pussy with a smile on his face. Wiping his lips before looking to Diesel who also withdrew his hand from your clit as he patted your thigh. His gaze met Shawn’s which had a playful nature to it. Holding his hand out expectantly in a fist, Diesel quickly followed suit as well.. were… were they really playing rock paper scissors? Rock beats Scissors, Diesel had won the game. Shawn rolled his eyes. “Best of Thre-“

“Shawn. You said it yourself. We’ve kept the poor girl waiting long enough.” Diesel smirked as he patted your thigh and Shawn relented.

“Right right. How selfish of me.” He cooed as he tussled your hair before moving back towards the top of the bed. Diesel helped you shift to your stomach. Rubbing a small circle into your lower back before pulling away. Shawn himself sat expectantly. Legs spread as he looked at you with a smile. “You still got energy in you pretty girl?” He asked as he went to place a hand on your head. You nodded before moving a bit closer to take his cock in your mouth, savoring it for a moment before beginning to bob your head slowly along the length, shawn tilted his head back. Letting out a small sigh as he closed his eyes and tightened the grip on your hair. “That’s it sweetheart…. You’ve got it.” He encouraged. But you were brought out of the bubble abruptly.

You felt a heat prodding at your entrance. Big. That was the first thing that came to mind, big, hot, heavy. You glanced back to see Diesel Aligning himself. Teasing a bit with long drags against your pussy that would occasionally graze your clit causing a small whine that caused a groan from Shawn. “Diesel… whatever you’re doing don’t fuckin stop man…” Shawn said before looking to his bodyguard who smirked before finally inserting himself. Your legs shook ever so slightly as he did, back arching as you went to pull away from Shawn to let out a moan. Diesel filled you up in all the right spots, as if he was made perfectly for you. They both were. You almost were sure this was a dream. This couldn’t be possible. But Shawn quickly brought you back to the moment as he cupped your face with one hand.

“Thought you said you had it in you.” He teased and you gulped. Whining for a moment as Diesel worked on pounding into you. You gripped the sheets tightly before you sunk your head down back to Shawn’s length to continue your earlier work, bobbing your head up and down, running your tongue along his stupid pretty cock. No wonder he was always so showy about it.. about himself. He was an enigma almost, a modern day Dionysus. You moved your hands to grip Shawn’s thighs instead, it helped you feel a bit more grounded in a sense…

Diesel’s thrusts into you had you seeing stars, he could be so brutal with his grip around your waist… his hands were huge. But it was a good brutal. The kind of brutal you’d think back oh and go man. That was a wild night…

You pulled away from Shawn’s length for a moment to catch your breath. Your hand going to take the place of your mouth, it was well lubed up enough at this rate, you quickly began to move your hand up and down the length. Looking up to Shawn with pretty doe like eyes.

“A-am I doing good..?” You asked with a smile. You knew you were doing good. You placed his tip to your ginge as you kept your hand movements going, Shawn gritted his teeth slightly as his hands gripped your hair.

“Fuck… fuck yeah you’re doing good just..” he let out a small groan, it didn’t take long before he had come undone and was spewing into your mouth. You quickly wrapped your mouth around the tip to try to catch as much as you could, hand still working to pump what was left into your mouth. Once it was over and you pulled away from him, his head slumped as he panted. “Jesus sweetheart…” he began with a smile before looking at you, his eyes softening as he watched Diesel work. Pounding into with a vigor that he had experienced himself. Shawn took his time reaching over towards a heart shaped ashtray to start a smoke for himself, he might as well enjoy the show. Diesel had hiked one of your legs up to get deeper inside, if that was even possible but you seemed to be enjoying it with the way your eyes rolled back and hands dug into the sheets as if at any moment they’d disappear from under you. It didn’t take long before that coil in you snapped once again causing you to spiral and cry out as you came against Diesel’s length, before Diesel himself finished he pulled out abruptly to furiously rub himself to finish. He ended up spraying his load on your stomach as he panted slightly. Looking down at you before fixing himself to put himself back in his pants.

The rest of the night was a blur. To fucked out of your mind to clearly recall but you remembered bits and pieces, heart shaped bathtub, Shawn and Diesel kissing, how comfy the bed was once you were under the covers… no wonder you passed out so quickly… and when you awoke you were on your own. You looked around for a moment before rubbing your hips.. Diesel had done a number on you. On the bedside table sat a tray.. someone must’ve called room service for you before leaving… it made you feel. Nice that they had thought of that for you. Your clothes were neatly folded and set on one of the chairs with your bag, and the hat on top, and near the tray you noticed a little piece of paper.

‘Call me if you ever need some good fashion lovin~’

The flowy handwriting and number made you feel giddy… he left you his number. Shawn Michaels left you his number. You quickly went to put the piece of paper in your bag. Stumbling a bit to get there but once you did your phone began to ring. You stared at the number for a moment before picking up.

“Hey! I was wondering when you’d pick up!” Your friend's voice rang out and you smiled.

“Sorry just… slept in. That’s all.”

“Slept in. Uh huh. Yeah sure I totally believe it.” They teased, causing you to giggle.

“Oh whatever… how’d it go last night with Razoooor Ramon.” You said in your own teasing tone and you could hear the snicker from the other line.

“Oh it went just fine. I won’t get into the nitty gritty… but where are you at? I want to make sure I don’t lose you.”

“I’m at the heartbreak hotel.” You could practically hear your friends gasp in realization at what your night had been like. You snickered, telling your friend to give you a little to get ready before you’d be ready to go…

#shawn michaels x reader x big daddy cool diesel #shawn michaels x reader #diesel x reader #wwf x reader #i popped off on this one i think #wrestling smut #Blowfly Writes #shawn michaels #big daddy cool diesel

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esther-dot · 2 years ago

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hello! i’ve followed for a while but never talked to you. thank you for being such a great jonsa and asoiaf source. i’ve been thinking lately about how sansa’s vale arc might proceed and was curious if you know of any theories about when/how her marriage to tyrion might end.

sansa needs to be unwed for littlefinger’s schemes to work. he seems to want sansa to believe he’s just waiting around for tyrion to die, but that doesn’t seem in character for him. it seems more likely he is actively trying to end her marriage behind the scenes.

do you think she’s likely to stay married to tyrion for much longer? or might her married/unmarried state end up as convoluted as the northern succession, maybe with a decree of annulment floating around somewhere like robb’s will?

Aw! Thank you so much for saying so! I really enjoyed your tags contributing to the Rhaegar & David parallels, and your post about his name.

I haven't been reading much meta this year, so I may have missed it, but I don't know that we've ever developed a specific theory about when Sansa's marriage to Tyrion would be handled! We've sometimes talked about a nice ol' widowing which is fun (but not what we'll get imo), @kellyvela found an exchange in which Martin said that someone doesn't have to go to the High Septon for an annulment but obviously will have to request it in their own name and it would reveal their location (link), so that means, it can't be safely done while Sansa’s pretending to be LF's daughter. She could do it once in Winterfell, and we've talked about the possibility of Tyrion trying to bring the North to Dany's side in DoD 2.0 via his marriage to Sansa, and if that is the route Martin wants to go, it would be pretty juicey, and really fuel Tyrion's rage if Sansa has already had their marriage annulled. That's a fun way to play it.

We've also talked about post a girl in grey trip to the North, considering loyalty to Ned and hatred for Lannisters, the North might just say fuck it, we don't recognize that forced marriage. Or, and I really do think this is possible for drama's sake, we have the two religions, and they might use that to defend not recognizing the marriage and, considering the byronic Jon quote, and how often bigamy pops up in gothic/victorian lit, I don't dismiss the idea that Sansa might marry someone before the old gods prior to an annulment being secured. That might mean, the annulment doesn't happen until close to the end of the story. I personally like the idea of a secret Jonsa wedding, but lot's of Jonsas expect it to be public after R+L=J to reconcile the Jon KitN turning out to be a Targ debacle. Either way, this would mean when Jon reunites with his friend Tyrion, they're both married to Sansa which is also a very sick twisted fun way to play it! (Stop throwing tomatoes, y'all know that would be funny!)

As for LF's current plans, I have no idea! He believed Cersei would end Tyrion, he'd then get rid of Cersei, and that at that point he could reveal who Sansa was:

"A marriage . . ." Her throat tightened. She did not want to wed again, not now, perhaps not ever. "I do not . . . I cannot marry. Father, I . . ." Alayne looked to the door, to make certain it was closed. "I am married," she whispered. "You know."

Petyr put a finger to her lips to silence her. "The dwarf wed Ned Stark's daughter, not mine. Be that as it may. This is only a betrothal. The marriage must needs wait until Cersei is done and Sansa's safely widowed. And you must meet the boy and win his approval. Lady Waynwood will not make him marry against his will, she was quite firm on that." (AFFC, Alayane II)

No man can wed me so long as my dwarf husband still lives somewhere in this world. Queen Cersei had collected the head of a dozen dwarfs, Petyr claimed, but none were Tyrion's. (TWOW, Alayne I)

The mention of the queen's name made her stiffen. "She's not kind. She scares me. If she should learn where I am—"

"—I might have to remove her from the game sooner than I'd planned. Provided she does not remove herself first." (AFFC, Alayne I)

Cersei had the motivation to go after Tyrion, so it made sense to me he thought she'd handle it, and then he'd handle her, but seeing as what he wants to do is reveal Sansa as herself, get the KotV to go North and reclaim Winterfell, I'm not sure what he is currently planning, now that he says his timetable is screwed? Unless he thinks the mayhem of KL, Cersei's current trouble there, Aegon and then Dany's arrival will allow him to get the annulment undiscovered? Cersei is at odds with the High Septon, so maybe he thinks he could get away with it? That doesn't make sense to me though, not with the way news flies. I guess the weather is something of a shield, but not enough. Maybe he planned to kill someone and try to pass them off as Tyrion? Marry Sansa to Harry quickly after and take her North where Cersei wouldn't be able to get her? The emphasis is on Tyrion being alive, not the annulment, but maybe that's a misdirect. I really can't say. If any of you have spec, let me know and I’ll reblog it!

#jonsa #don’t worry—I’ll stop clogging up the tag soon 😂#anti tyrion #dot chat #< for filtering

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raspberryconverse · 9 months ago

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I don't think I've written a fictional story since junior high or high school (I took Creative Nonfiction: Journal Writing in college) and I just started writing one again.

This is sort of a RPF, but the real people are me and a friend of mine from high school (the one who's in love with me) and it's based on my own life. A sort of therapeutic way of dealing with this situation and the "what if I didn't move to Milwaukee" question.

It starts out as a true story, but instead of moving to Milwaukee and meeting my spouse, I move to Chicago. Specifically the friend's house (he bought a house 8 years ago and rents out the extra rooms to friends, etc).

I'm not sure where it's going to go or if I'm going to share it (if I do, I'll definitely have to change his name in it), but I'm hoping it gets me out of the "maybe he was the one who got away, not the guy who dumped me for grad school" spiral I'm currently in.

Ugh. I wish I had my therapy tomorrow and not couples therapy. I really need to unpack this with my therapist and I'm not sure I can do it in couples therapy. Especially since Spouse isn't jealous or upset about what happened (there was some cuddling, but I was sober enough to not only drive home, but make sure he didn't cross any lines). But god, did I want it to. I knew if I turned my head towards him, he would have tried to kiss me. And since I haven't had more than a peck from my spouse in weeks, I might have let him and I definitely would have really enjoyed that.

I'm proud of myself for setting the boundary with him, but I'm also longing for more than what I've been getting. And Spouse totally understands the temptation, based on the state of our sex life, but I still feel guilty for wanting it so bad.

But IDK, maybe if they actually kissed me, like really kissed me, more than once a month, I wouldn't feel that way.

#the one that got away #unrequited love #but i'm married #is this what marriage is?#writing

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mangoposts · 11 months ago

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None of this would matter to you but I jus need to rant lmao

I miss my ex so bad like bro did me so dirty but goddd I love him like when we were dating he was so cute and perfect I thought he was the one but he broke up w me outta nowhere n now he hates me idk why actually

But im gna rant ab the cute things he always did so i can giggle like a lil girl again 😇

He used to call my mum mum like he loved my mum and she loved him thwy werw besties and him n my sister had a very brother sister relationship like he would make lil jokes and she'd just say he sounds like a 50yr old man cuz he didn't have a squeaky ass voice HAHA

Everytime we were on facetime with me him and our friends id be having a convo w my friends while hes playing fortnite minecraft wtvr he was playijg and randomly he'd just say random shit like "your so perfect" "your hot as fuck yk" LIKE OH MY GOD??? LITERALLY MARRY ME I'LL PROPOSE

And whenever me him and our friends went out to town id be outside wherever were meeting and hed sneak up on me and grab my waist and whisper in my ear "guess who" AHHHHH GIGGLING

He was also the best kisser oh my god LIKE??? And he was the best hugger too like I could cuddle that man for hours

OH THAT REMINDS ME OF THE TIME we were at my house every1 was out and we were jus cuddling on my couch watching a movie and i fell asleep and i woke up and he was stroking my hair and said "sleep well baby?" I CANNOTTTTTTT

and i specifically remember this one convo we had when I didn't answer his facetime cuz I was listening to lil peep since hes mine and my exes fav n staring at the ceiling as one does and when i answered I said "Sorry i didn't answer I was listening to lil peep I think im back in my lil peep phase" and he said "that's my girl" UM FUCK ME!?

Bro i miss him so bad like come back babe the kids miss you (the kids being my cats)

Sorry for the long ass rant but UGHHH I WANNA GO BACK

This is a little too real i miss my own ex now LMFAOOOOOOO

#🥭

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eastsidemags · 5 months ago

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DARKFORM Signing

East Side Mags is super stoked to welcome all 4 members of the creative team behind DARKFORM - an amazing indie comic with talent spreading from Essex County to Venezuela!

Meet the minds behind DARKFORM and get all 4 signatures! Collect them all!

ABOUT THE AUTHOR/CREATOR My name is Marc Saporito, born and raised in Bloomfield NJ, married to my wife Allison for seventeen years. I have seven beautiful children. Caring for them is the driving force behind who I am and what I do!! I Love them so much!! I’m currently a maintenance worker, house painter, and former Christmas tree salesman!!! I remember the days of standing outside in the freezing cold At Plochs home and garden center, selling trees with my Plochs brothers!!! It was a great time every year!! A big shout out to them, you know who you are!!! Many thanks to Anibal for helping me visualize this project and helping me when I thought all hope was lost. Also thanks Junior for working with him. These two Artists are top notch in this field true masters of their craft!! Another big shoutout to my brother Tony and his wife Cecilia, love you both!! To my brother from another mother my producer and friend for over thirty years Daniel Russomano. He is also my creative partner on these projects who didn’t hesitate when I asked him for his help. When he agreed I then knew my lifelong dream was about to happen. The world is going to hear a lot from MDM STUDIOS, because we have a ton to say and create. So sit back and enjoy a new breed of superhero one that’s going to take the world by storm. Last but not least I know the world is a very harsh place at times but we need to help the less fortunate, honestly I try and do my part everyday!!! Thank you. You can find me on Facebook and Instagram under Marco Sappo!! God bless all!!!

My name is Junior Mejias, im a Venezuelan comic book artist and illustrator. My journey into comics began with a anime called Naruto, which I would watch every Saturday night. It made me fall in love with great storytelling and inspired to tell stories through my own art.

I think creating comics is much like creating a film, if not more challenging. As comic book artists we are tasked with bringing a script to life by depicting life, emotion, and movement through nothing but 2D images.

What I found works for me in my approach to creating comics is working backwards. What I mean by that is figuring out how I want the page to end and how that panel will look and go from there. An old professor of mine once told me if you drive without a destination you'll drive forever.

When it comes to artistic influences I have two that come to mind. Greg Capullo who penciled Spawn for many issues. He has spectacular pencils as well as an amazing eye for filling the space, and J Scott Campbell who’s known for his beautiful stylization of comic book women.

My favorite thing about making comics is the penciling alongside great storytelling. I love starting the production and creating something out of a blank page. I like to take my time rendering my pencils so tight they squeak!

On the other hand, my least favorite thing about creating comics would have to be the occasional artists block, sometimes you just cant find the the perfect angle for a specific scene and as a perfectionist I don't settle for anything but the best I can offer.

My name is Daniel Russomano i was born in Newark New Jersey and I reside in Nutley New Jersey . I have a son Daniel, a daughter-in-law Lindsay, a granddaughter Mila and another granddaughter on the way. I have a French bulldog named Rocky and a parakeet named Angel who are best friends. I like spending time with my family and pets. I also like to grow tomatoes in my garden. I like to read and go fishing.

My favorite super hero is of course The Dark Form. I also like all of the other superheroes. If I could choose one super power it would be to have the strength to unite the world in peace.

Marc Saporito and I have been friends and coworkers for over thirty years. So when he approached me about coming on board as a producer and investing in the dark form i said yes. Now we share our ideas and work together to create one of the best stories you will ever read. I am on Instagram @ thedarkform.official.

Anibal Arroyo is an illustrator and self published author. He is mostly self taught but did attend the prestigious Joe Kubert School of Cartooning and Graphic Illustration, achieving a one year certification. He has worked on several independent creator owned projects from graphic novels to children’s books.

He works in a variety of mediums including traditional as well as digital methods. An exceptional sequential artist and storyteller with an incredible eye for detail, Anibal is an asset to any creative project he dives into.

Don’t miss this all-star signing and grab a copy of DARKFORM quadruple signed by all the creators!

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outcastbybirth · 1 year ago

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HI THERE AND HOWDY! :D

First off, welcome! I’m excited to meet you and get to know you and your lovely muse/muses! I’m even more excited to start plotting and writing together! I just have a few things I’d like to address and get out of the way first!

If we start talking and or plotting and then you suddenly stop talking to me. I am going to assume you didn’t want to write and may abandon the entire thing, as I am shy and fear of bugging others tends to stop me from asking if they wanted to continue. So please, keep talking/interacting/plotting with me so I know we are okay! Even if it's just to say hi the last thing I want is to miss out on a chance to make a new story with you.

I also reserve the right to choose who I roleplay with. I am a mom of three, and I don’t want to feel overwhelmed or ruin any potential good rps between us by taking on too many partners!

I won’t force myself if I don’t feel a connection/don’t have muse/am uncomfortable with the content of your blog. Please respect my right to take care of myself and make RPing a fun experience.

I tend to be ship shy especially when it comes to my ocs, and have a hard time asking for a ship/rp, please bare with me for the time being as I gain the courage to ask you to RP. However, I am open to any ship as long as asked and it is plotted. I am 29 years old and will not ship or do NFSW stuff with you unless you’re well over 18.

I am comfortable with almost anything but child-related offenses, rape, incest, self-harm, and suicide all of these things are extremely triggering for me due to some intense things in my childhood. Absolutely no pedophilia rp or anything to do with harming children on my blog, I will not reply whatsoever. Absolutely ZERO talk about self-harm to me ooc please, I am a recovering self-harmer, and that kind of chatter triggers me severely. However rping it as long as it is not c***ing/burning/hitting oneself (like locking themselves in their room type, doing it for rituals or distractions in battle is different.), then I am usually okay.

When it comes to venting: I completely understand that you might be feeling overwhelmed and in need of someone to talk to. However, as a mother of three, I also have other responsibilities that require my attention. While I am always here to lend an ear and offer support, it can be challenging to constantly handle emotional dumping without any breaks. I truly value any and all conversations and enjoy being a listener, but I also need to take care of myself and my family. I hope one can understand where I'm coming from and know that I'm always here to help in any way I can.

When it comes to my aesthetics: Now normally I don't see this in a lot of rules but I feel the need to add it in mine. If I post an OC aesthetic, PLEASE DO NOT REBLOG IT FOR YOUR OWN OC. Especially if we're not mutuals, and you do not plan on crediting me. I cater my work specifically toward my muses and spend hours on said aesthetic. Please, I work hard on them to promote my ocs the last thing I want is to feel like they're just resources. However, if I happen to post an aesthetic related to a CANON CHARACTER, one is more than fine to reblog and reuse all I ask for is credit. :)

Please refrain from reblogging memes and such from me, as I am not a resource blog and would love the actual person who made the memes to get the credit!

No god-modding my characters, canon or otherwise, I will refuse to respond to the post. I respond best with basic roleplay etiquette.

I WILL NOT respond to any form of AI generated replies/rps.

I have over 15+ years of roleplay experience under my belt, and I am open for plotting. I am a huge plotter and love to make friends, I’ll even spoil you rotten with ship songs and blurbs of said ship! As much as I love to plot, I am open to winging it too!

I do double/triple up in characters during roleplay, but that’s only because my muses generally tie into one another at some point.

I am extremely oc friendly, and am just plain friendly in general, I also roleplay on discord too.

#rules #cara

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beatenxnotxbroken · 1 year ago

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HI THERE AND HOWDY! :D

I also reserve the right to choose who I roleplay with. I am a mom of three, and I don’t want to feel overwhelmed or ruin any potential good rps between us by taking on too many partners!

I won’t force myself if I don’t feel a connection/don’t have muse/am uncomfortable with the content of your blog. Please respect my right to take care of myself and make RPing a fun experience.

Please refrain from reblogging memes and such from me, as I am not a resource blog and would love the actual person who made the memes to get the credit!

No god-modding my characters, canon or otherwise, I will refuse to respond to the post. I respond best with basic roleplay etiquette.

I WILL NOT respond to any form of AI generated replies/rps.

I do double/triple up in characters during roleplay, but that’s only because my muses generally tie into one another at some point.

I am extremely oc friendly, and am just plain friendly in general, I also roleplay on discord too.

#rules rules rules #awooo

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bisaster-energy · 1 year ago

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I'M SO GLAD YOU ASKED....

just gonna go down in chronological order ahem

1-2: are pretty straightforward-classic first meeting vs last goodbye. the idea that when they first met cas simply lets dean stab him bc it won't hurt and dean is ready to kill him bc he doesn't know cas from adam. and then at the end cas is being stabbed again except there is no dagger because dean is the dagger HE killed cas (at least that's what he thinks). what doesn't change is that cas still doesn't mind

3-4: ofc ofc ofc the physical imagery was so fun i was like oh wow look fire and then snow!! just like the lyrics! but also. at this point in s6 cas is trying to hard to make the right choices but it feels as useless as lighting matches in the snow because dean just sees him as a traitor and then a child that doesn't know anything. and asking his father for help is just as pointless because there will be no answer

5-7 !!! goddd kicking cas out..crazy. cas is just reunited with them and now he's being told to leave. he thought he was home and it was just. swept out from under him. and dean who did this with no explanation can't seem to separate himself from cas. cas tries to get used to life on his own and does well and then dean comes waltzing in hey let's go hunting cas just like old times you're too big for this shitty job!!!! it's whiplash and sad

8: he can't find surrender. ephraim came because he followed cas' pain. it's been established that cas is self-loathing and suicidal but still. dean gives him an angel blade. so he uses it to save himself. physically symbolizing dean giving him the means to survive

9: the lobotomy arc my beloved <3 he can't keep control! his mind is not his own but even when he can't process that dean is there dean manages to shake his entire world enough that he literally breaks brainwashing ok ok ok

10-11: dean implores cas to remember because he needs him always he needs him he needs him to save sam rn specifically he's completely destroyed the persona that was emmanuel on itself reverting him forcefully back to cas: my angel my friend. mine. and then after cas gets all fucked up after the events of s6 and then healing sam he wants to avoid conflict altogether and sam and dean left him in meg's care so he was avoiding it. but now he needs cas back in the fold but he doesnt want to hurt anyone anymore he wants to run away. he will be convinced tho he always is

12: physically he'd just spun cas to face him. also he's turning cas' world over he's changing his mind only fueling the doubts he's been having and actively cas' faith is shifting from god and his og mission to dean.

13-14: parallels the previous scene bc cas is trying to convince dean of what dean once showed him: that there IS value in life here on earth it wasn't all a lie. there was you. there was me. we are real. dean just walks the fuck away lol

15: jack killed mary and dean is pretty upset about that erm. anyway you're dead to me scene and cas was actually shattered by that hello. bc even if dean is just lashing out it still hurts bc contrary to dean's beliefs about angels cas feels things very very much. he felt that. dean's going back to his "jack is a monster" mentality but cas cannot subscribe to that. so dean's pushing him away out of anger and grief and cas just takes it at face value even tho he knows better cos still. it hurts

16: and you want children! dean likes kids he takes care and he's back to not trying to kill jack (awesome) cas wasn't even in this ep which is fucked but anyway. just to express the dichotomy of dean's view of jack throughout. it goes up and down like. he had a gun on jack in the s14 finale but now he bakes him cake.

17: dean literally begged chuck for this. he basically tried to kill himself on that last case but now cas is home in the middle of nowhere cas is home. it's at times like these where cas is assured that dean does want him around. these moments are what he holds on to when he's unsure. i believe that dean does want to be with me. his touch told me i have to believe

18: this is a little chuck won theory for ya. um like. dean wanted to change the narrative entirely bc cas believed he could be more that what chuck designed him to be he knows he's more. but instead he dies at 40 smth and acted like it was all chill. dean was ready to sacrifice anything sam included for the birds the bees and cas but. this ending. he just accepted it even tho it was wrong. ik dean gets out of heaven in the winchesters but that show doesn't exist to me idrc about it

the placement of the lyrics physically is just some fun i was having. sometimes they form cas' wings. when he can't find surrender i covered his eyes. he wasnt making eye contact so i covered dean's face. i covered dean's mouth because he was just saying shit he knew would hurt. the dagger. the last lyric covering the kaz license plate lol. also last lyric being cut perfectly instead of ripped out cos it's fake like that finale instead of raw like the rest. like free will died with cas. Or smth

i am...falling, yeah

vampire empire, big thief // castiel

just because i understand you doesn't mean i understand what you want from me

@butch--dean @thepondstogether hey guys! i made another thing rq

#supernatural #lyric edit #analysis #castiel #thanks for asking i love talking <3

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pinkvenomsstuff · 2 years ago

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Friends don't kiss friends pt. 2

Carl Gallagher x fem

You arrived at the abandoned lot that Carl spoke of, and as expected, there really were teenagers gathering there. The strong smell of marijuana and the dozens of beer bottles and cans thrown on the floor seemed to abduct the whole place. "Are you sure you want to stay here?" you asked Carl "Yes, there are some friends of mine that are here." he replied, walking over to one of the cars that had the hood open. "Hey white boy Carl!" one of the guys yells, Carl greets him with a smile. "Hey guys! Just Carl now." he smiles, you appear behind him attracting the attention of your friends.

"Is this one? Who is it?" a guy with a joint in his hand asks. "My girl." he responds with a wide smile, squeezing his waist a little. "So you guys date?" "No." he denies it smiling awkwardly "She's my best friend bro." "Oh, wait. Is that the girl you used to talk about in juvie? Here you say you liked-" Carl covers the boy's mouth, looking at you with a very embarrassed look. "Hey, alright." you say smiling subtly, he stops holding the boy's lips. "It's the girl you told me about earlier when we were at Paty's?" you ask.

Carl scratches the back of his head nervously. "Yes it is." "Oh, nice." you gesture for the boys to make room for you to sit with them. "So, tell me, what was this super mysterious girl Carl said like." you say patting his thighs. "Oh, well. I remember him saying that she was quite pretty, and that he had a crush on her since he was a kid." one of them starts. "Yes, and what a girl saw it. Because to make that old Car's heart go soft..." he jokes, punching his chest, everyone laughs. "Yeah, he was like a fucking boring loon in love. It was like, "Oh my God, I like her so much. But I don't know how to tell her that. Oh bro I'm so insecure." he tries to imitate Carl's voice, horribly, you laugh at his imitation along with the boys. "I love Y/N so much."

He completes, the boys continue to laugh and make fun of Carl. His eyes widen and you stop for a second, wondering if you've heard his name or just one very similar to his. "Y/N Y/Y?" you stutter when asking. "Yeah, I think, some shit like that." the boy responds by puffing smoke from his joint. You bow your head looking slowly at Carl, who is already staring at you, you end up choking on your own saliva in that tension. "Oh shit girl. Are you okay? Have a beer." one of the boys who had a scar on his lip hands you a bottle.

You thank him by picking it up and taking a few sips while looking at Carl, he looks away to the floor. The boys sense the tension between you. "Uh... what's going on?" one of them questions looking at the two of you. Carl is reluctant but ends up coming to you and taking your hand gently, he lifts you up and you walk in front of them. "Guys, this is Y/N." he says, jaws dropping and surprised eyes fall upon you. "Fucking bro. Sorry man..."

"It's all right." he looks at you smiling slightly. "Well, at least she's a really pretty girl." one of them says. "Yes, she is. And I think it's time for us to go." Carl says shrugging his shoulders, the boys let out frustrated grunts. "Oh, but you just got here." "I know, but I don't want it to be too late. The sun is already setting and I need to leave my girl at home." he explains, shaking hands with each of them.

He hugs a specific boy, who whispers in his ear. "She seems like a good girl man, take care of her." you can hear through the not-so-distant distance between you. "Yes, I love her with my life." you try very hard not to let a grandiose smile appear on your face. "Alright man. And Y/N take good care of this Carl, this kid is a roller coaster of trouble, really." the same boy as before speaks smiling, you look into Carl's eyes, glowing as bright as a constellation. A smile forms on his lips. "I'll take care of it. It was nice meeting you."

You give them one last wave, walking to your car. You see Carl walking towards you, following his steps but leaving significant distance between you. You pull the car door open, getting into it at the same time as he does.

You start the car, get out of there and continue to your house. There was a deafening silence there, it was only possible to hear his uncompensated breathilips You just heard that your childhood crush also has a crush on you. Her eyes met Carl's a few times, but no words left her lips.

You're forced out of your thoughts when you realize you've turned the street to your house. You park the car in front of your house, turn it off and get out. You take the keys and take a few steps, approaching the door. You look at Carl hoping he would say something before you walk into your house and things get awkward between you. Seconds and more seconds, he doesn't say anything, you understand. "Um, okay bye." you mumble feeling tears form in your eyes, you try to put the key in the lock but fail miserably because it has fallen out of your hands.

"Cum!" you exclaim, Carl comes running up to you and hugs you. You take a while to return the hug but then you do. The heat of his body, the incredible scent of his masculine perfume invaded her nostrils. He pulls away holding your face, your blue eyes rolling across your face, as if analyzing every single thing about you. "Y/N, I love you." his words make you lose control of your body, you had to lean on Carl to keep from falling. "Y-You what?" "You heard."

He smiles mischievously, pulling his face to seal your lips. In a kiss that is calm but full of passion and lust, you put both arms around his shoulders, and Carl continues to hold your waist. You break the kiss after almost a minute to catch your breath. "Do you love me too? Because if you don't, I get it, seriously, I won't be upset-" You don't wait for him to finish that bullshit, you grab his shirt collar and pull him to kiss him again. Your tongues meet during the kiss, dancing in perfect harmony, as if you were in an orchestra. With steady hands coming down from your hips to your ass.

"You talk the fuck out." you say breathlessly, Carl smiles and so do you. "How long have you felt like you like me?" you ask, sitting on the sidewalk, so does he. "I think since that time when you kissed me to ward off some Southern boys who kept bothering you." he reveals "But maybe it was when we broke into the principal's office to get his cigarette back." you laugh remembering the moment, but then you stop to think. "Carl! That was almost five years ago, you could have said you liked me."

"I didn't know how." he shrugs his shoulders a little sadly. "There was this sixth grade guy who was popular and a boy friend of Karen who had a crush on you." "Was it the same boy you hit because he touched my ass?" you ask remembering what happened. "Yeah. He was a shitty asshole, but he was handsome. I'd seen you talk to him a few times, I thought you liked each other. That's why I started kind of dating Bonnie." "The blonde girl who lived with her family in a van?" "Yeah. And then the bitch Dominique and Kelly. But it all went wrong, I didn't know why, but now I do."

"And because?" you ask leaning your head on his shoulder. "You. I've always loved you, since preschool I think, but I dated other girls because I thought you didn't like me. That's why I never really loved any of them or managed to maintain the relationship, I was always thinking about you. what it would be like to kiss you, touch you in other ways, feel you..." He squeezes her thigh subtly, a wave of shock seeming to course through her veins. "Hey, no silly hands here!" You hear your father's voice behind you, you turn around and see Kevin hugging Veronica at the door.

"Mom, Dad! How long have you been there, and listening to our conversation?" you ask holding out your hand for Carl to get up. "I think since 'I've always loved you'." Kevin says smiling, you laugh at the situation and so does Carl. "Since you've heard everything. Can I sleep over at his place?" you ask crossing your hand in Carl's. "No, Yes!" his parents exclaim together, his mother steps on his toes. "Yes dear, but be sensible." she says smiling proudly. "Yeah. Kev groans. "Carl, if you impregnate my daughter I'll cut off your dick while you sleep." he threatens, Carl's eyes widen. "Okay dad. Let's go Carl."

"Hm...wait." he says, you stop looking at him confused. "What?" you ask, Carl reaches into his own pants pocket, he looks at you like you're a goddess or something. He holds your right hand and kneels in front of you. "Oh, you na-" "Shut up. I'm trying to be romantic around your parents here." he whispers in his ear, you laugh the way he said. "Well. Y/N Ball, do you agree to date and eventually marry this handsome cadet Carl Gallagher?" he asks, a bright smile plays on his lips. "Yeah, oh shit. But we'll talk about the wedding later."

He gets up and you run jumping on his lap, Carl starts laughing leaving kisses all over your face. He presses you against his body, your legs around his waist as he hugs your back. Carl puts you down after a few seconds. He opens the box and looks at you confused. "Oh, I should put the ring on before, right?" you laugh. "Yeah, but fuck it, we make the rules here." "Yeah, fuck it." he exclaims placing the golden ring on his right hand's ring finger.

"Oh Carl..." you study the ring on your finger, incredibly beautiful and exactly your size. "That must have been expensive... it didn't have to." you hug him. "Of course I did. You deserve the best babe, I love you." he kisses his forehead affectionately, you take the opportunity to put the other pair of the ring on his finger. "I love you too."

"Damn, they're so cute Kev!" Ve exclaims, tears falling from his eyes. "Mom, don't cry or I'll cry too." you say, really starting to get emotional. "Okay, no crying here. You're a man!" Kev almost screams, wiping the tears from her eyes. "Alright…let's go before this gets even weirder." Carl says in his ear, you laugh. "We're going, parents."

You give your parents one last smile before crossing the street with Carl, you enter the playpen seeing Frank still lying on the floor, but unfortunately he is awake. "Carl..." he whispers holding out a hand. "Fuck Frank!" Carl grumbles stepping over him, you do the same entering the boy's house. The family is gathered in the living room. "Hey guys!" you greet everyone with a friendly smile. Fiona waves at you.

"Hi bros. Y/N, why are you blushing?" Lip asks, you swallow hard. "Oh fuck it. Grab a beer and sit down." you look at Carl shrugging his shoulders, Debbie hands you a bottle of beer. Carl sits on the floor, as all the seats are taken. You sit next to him, he puts an arm around the back of your neck, you smile passionately at each other. "Did the sun go down or is it you smiling? How disgusting." Debbie makes a face. "It's you shutting your mouth." Carl responds. "Carl!" you push him lightly.

"Shut up all of you. That way the movie loses its fun." Ian yells, you all fall silent. Fiona holds out the glass jar of nachos filled with cheddar and bacon for you. Suddenly, she lets out a scream, covering her mouth with her hand. "Wait. Y/N is that a ring?" she asks in surprise, you nod smiling. "Yea." "Who are you dating? Because Carl is almost on top of you, that would be a betrayal, right?" Liam asks innocently. "No? How would I cheat on my boyfriend with himself?" you laugh playfully.

Debbie drops her pizza slice. "Oh what? Really?" Ian asks ruffling his hair. You and Carl answer yes, the family rises to hug you. "I'm happy, but why so much excitement people?" you ask seeing Fi bring more beers and food. "What? Are you kidding? Carl's been in love with you since kindergarten, we look forward to that." Lip says. "Oh... when was that?" Fiona asks. "Literally two minutes away." Carl responds by eating his nachos. "Holy shit, I can't imagine how Kev will react to that. He's such a drooling, jealous father..." "He knows, they were in front of us when Carl proposed." "Fuck!" Fiona laughs.

You dial your parents' name and your family group appears. You ask them to come here saying they're having a very lively movie night. In just a few minutes they show up with the twins on their laps, Debbie puts the kids to bed and joins you. "You know there's a Frank on your porch, don't you?" Veronica says sitting on Kev's lap that he is sitting in the armchair that expelled Lip. "Yes, we left it there." Ian says carefree. You look at everyone, it's true that Frank is a horrible father, but since Franny was born he hasn't been that bad for you; and that makes you feel a little sorry for him. Even if he deserves it.

"So you're going to leave him there?" you ask. "He's doing like, three degrees, he could freeze to death." "Yea." Lip responds, everyone agrees. "Tomorrow morning he should get up and go straight to the bar to drink or do a lot of cocaine." Fiona talks laughing. "Don't worry, Hon. Frank lives as long as a fucking cockroach." Carl says kissing his neck, everyone looks at you with disgusted faces. "Ew. You guys look like an old couple" Lip and Ian joke. "Fuck you Gallagher's!" The rest of the night was you drinking, eating and laughing a lot. As if nothing in the outside world could stop you.

#carl gallagher #carl gallagher x reader #shamaless #fiona gallagher #gallagher brothers

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milkshakefemme · 4 years ago

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So ummm I put some posts in the queue again for once lol

#txt #anyway im gonna yell in the tags now because im like. having a moment #god i need to like make my own friends who are mine specifically and meet me before the host #because every other time i front im just like.#oh i bet they wish mr host was here instead of me #u know. just system things #and like i have a right to exist........ im here sometimes. im alive im a person #but i dont think im who anyone wants me to be? um #this is all like 98% in my head btw. im just being mentally ill #i wish i had my own body i wish i had my own bodyyyy god #tired of this </3 #i have to pretend to be a boy irl and then on the internet im like.#host's friends also wish i was that boy because theyre mostly friends with him not me #um 😳 if u know us im not like vagueing anybody im just venting #and again. i dont think this is actually real its just how i feel in my shitty little brain

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andiitom · 2 years ago

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I just read your Ramshackle fics?? Heascanons?? For Twisted Wonderland and oh my gods I am invested. All I can imagine is MC, livid and in tears, storming their way through campus to the headmaster’s office (where maybe a prefect meeting was about to start, like they were waiting on MC or something) and MC is pissed. Throwing a diary at the headmaster, cursing him out, claiming he killed them (the previous ramshackle students). Of course everyone is like “wtff 👀” staring at each other before MC takes another diary out of their bag and begins to read the entries (specifically about how they barely have any money for food and such, and that one kid who started the school year with a round healthy face is now very pale and thin). I’m sorry I can’t. Like it never crossed my mind that those graves could belong to previous students and the fact that it’s “covered up” especially in your story. I can also just imagine MC cleaning the gravestones afterwards like you said and the rest of the students checking up on MC. And like how would they react to all the diaries ending on the same date (especially if it’s fast approaching??). But like how would they other students react to the things MC discovered about the Ramshackle dorm in general.

But anyway, I love this. I love your story. It got my brain going, my brain thinking. Take you time, sweetie, but holy fuck I need more. Like shit this is so good!! Like I want to know more. I really want to know more. I can just see Ace, Deuce, Grim, and MC just going on little adventures uncovering the secrets of Ramshackle dorm, like holy shit. What if they found a journal about another student like MC, as in magic-less and essentially coming from a different world/dimension. Keep up the good work sweetie, my mind is completely blown.

A/N: sorry bestie I start rambling towards the end let me know of any Grammer or spelling errors!

If you want more of my ramshackle/other dorms hc or have any of your own I'm just and ask away ♡

CW: mentions of bullying and death!

I am so glad you loved it, bestie! And oh yes, I've come up with so much ramshackle brain rot and the whole there was another MC tidbit, I'll go into that with my own Mc, but I don't want to spoil anything.

I have it all but its all unorganized in a Google doc But here is a little snippet:

Crowley turns a blind eye to most things, especially when money and more acclaimed are involved. What's the cost of a few nobodys who can't do magic disappearing? They're just ghosts.. shadows, a blink and they're gone. Only a few remember those faceless, nameless students, and the memories they do have are of them being pushed down stairs or being forced to dance in hot iron shoes. Many of the NRC alumni have fond memories of being sorted into their dorms, making new friends, skipping classes to take a dip in the lake.

Sadly, for the students unlucky enough to be sorted into that dorm overlooking the hill, it was a death sentence. In the past, the dorm residents just dropped out after the first few months, not even making it to the first exams. However, enough stayed one year to warn teach the incoming first years. Most of the teachers were there for the check, and only a few cared about their students. For the ones who cared, seeing the life drain from some of the brightest minds they've seen was gut-wrenching. There was nothing they could do. Crowley turned his back as he counted his money, and all they could do was the same.

I absolutely love it when Disney let's Yana make the twst world dark, even if it's just little sprinkles. Like the gem mines and the two OB dwarfs, or what Leona went through back in the afterglow. I have a lot of stuff that I've written that I don't post much of because I let the intrusive thoughts win and shit gets dark quick. It's the implications of how TWISTED everything is, gets me going.

The ghosts don't remember a lot of their previous lives, but they feel a calling. So maybe doing that calling would help them remember so they can move on. They're not working because Crowley can cheap out; they're working because it's where they feel the safest. The librarian ghosts are there because, in some long forgotten past, they remember hiding away in the deepest parts of the library.

I like to play that the whole house is alive trope, but not in the way Casita is, but the way the house from Monster House is. Ramshackle is aware of everything and it's letting Mc solve the mystery of its forgotten past.

Mc didn't need to read the rest of the diaries to know how things went for the other students. They only needed to read one. While flipping through the pages, they noticed dark splotches littered the later entries. They thought it was just a way to censor the lives this school ruined, as the stain always covered the date or a name.

The log books weren't any better. Mc took note of how every few months the penmanship would change. Neat and flowing cursive to thoughtless and stiff chicken scratch, either the writer would change or they were reading someone else's devolve into insanity.

Day 45-

We were given our monthly budget … only 300 modals to split between 20 students. I asked the Headmaster if he could increase our amount but all he said he was stretched thin with the building of the new calaseam everyone's budget would be low for the coming months.

Day 49-

I asked around the other leaders and they said their budget had been the same… each of them getting around 3,000,000 modal.. That is 5 times the amount we get. We can only buy bread with the amount we're given.

Then at some point the log book changed from budgeting and general grievance to count how many students they'd lose.

Day 112-

I watched as two of my first years walked into the woods with five Scarabia third years following close behind. only the third years came out.. 18 students remain.

Day 195-

I sent two of my dorm members to collect papers from whoever is the current Savanaclaw dorm leader. It was a mistake as it's been three days and they have yet to return. 14 students remain.

Those are some of the things of note that I wrote for Ramshackle Lore. Tho the one thing I disagree with is Crowley part bestie... Sure, Crowley can be an ass, but he's shown that he cares about his students. Like during Chap 2, he could have ignored the students getting injured, but he didn't, so he went to the person he trusted the most to solve the case. Crowley knows that if he goes around asking questions, the students will get scared because if the Headmaster is calling the students getting injured into question, that means something bad is happening. Word got back to Leona that he would have to lay low, throwing his entire plan into the fire. So, by getting a student to do the questioning, the culprit would be caught. He also disregards leona's title and reprmands him for his dirty tricks.

I believe the previous headmaster(s) turned a blind eye to the treatment of previous ramshackle students. But it would be a great scene..

An angry Mc bursting into his office during a dorm leader meeting throwing a book at him while spewing vitriol at Crowley because, for all they know, he's been the headmaster. They blam him for the deaths of the students. He knew what was happening and he looked away, and he's going to do the same to them. Crowley shuffles through some of the pages. He can see why Mc would assume the worst. While waiting for them to calm down, he will explains himself.

Ramshackle had long abandoned when he became headmaster. It wasn't like he also wanted to know the history of the decaying dorm. Why do you think he meets with the ramshackle ghosts? Every time he thinks he's getting close to the truth, fifty more mysteries appear. It's all just a misunderstanding. He knows he can be irresponsible and let money blind him. Anyone would do that, but he'd never go as far as to let students hurt others just for the hell of it.

#im unwell #started to ramble #twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland headcanons #twisted wonderland first years #twisted wonderland oneshot #twst mc #twisted wonderland x reader

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imagining-in-the-margins · 4 years ago

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The Birds & The Bees (S.R. | Pt. 4)

Summary: Reader has a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day, which her Professor is hellbent on making a little bit better. A/N: If y’all thought you hated Kyle (bathroom bitch boy), just wait until you meet the new antagonist (of the female variety) here... I hope you all enjoy! 😚 Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Slow Burn (NSFW, 18+) Content Warning: Sexual themes/fantasies Word Count: 6.3k

MASTERLIST | Series Masterlist

——————————————————

Einstein once attributed his genius to his childlike sense of humor. Studies performed since then have largely proven his point — funny people tend to have higher IQs, which makes sense when you consider the cognitive and emotional intelligence required to produce humor.

Spencer Reid was no exception. The only problem was that his humor was so remarkably niche and impossibly specific that barely anyone could understand the punchline. He insisted to me that he’d gotten better over the years, which I only barely believed… until he told me a joke that hadn’t left my mind since. A joke that he described as ‘just crude enough to make it palatable to the layman.’

"Caffeine and Viagra are both phosphodiesterase inhibitors,” he’d said — a slow start if there had ever been such a thing. But I held on to hope, hanging on the ecstatic, guileless smile he wore. And boy, was I glad I did, because what he’d said next broke me into a frankly embarrassing fit of giggles that returned with the memory every time.

“Which explains why both of these drugs keep you up all night."

The poor barista stuck working the busy early morning shift eyed me like I’d grown two heads when I once again devolved into laughter for no apparent reason. I almost felt embarrassed about it, but then I reassured myself that if she’d heard Dr. Spencer Reid tell a drug-induced-boner joke, she would also laugh about it forever.

I’d been thinking about him a lot lately. Not in a perverse way, either, despite his increasing comfort in breaching such topics in my presence. It was more like I’d started to infuse him into my every day, finding him in whatever way my brain would allow. While I made my way to his office, I breathed in the soothing scent drifting from the cups that were precariously perched in flimsy cardboard.

The smell took me back to quiet moments in his office. The kind of simple serenity that accompanied silence between two people who need not speak to share ideas. Where the second you looked away, you felt their eyes follow you, like the universe couldn’t maintain its structural integrity without one of you looking at the other.

It was intoxicating and alluring; so easy to lose myself in. Something I knew was dangerous for a number of reasons.

For example, when I am not paying the utmost attention to my surroundings, I have a tendency to lose track of where I am and what I’m doing. I also tend to… drop things. Especially hot and otherwise dangerous things.

Things like the two cups of coffee that finally became too much for shallow, defective cardboard.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” I screeched as I became acutely aware of every place where scorching hot, drenched clothing hung on angry skin. Normally, I would at least try to sound more dignified while on my way to work, but it hardly seemed like it mattered anymore.

I was too busy hurriedly tearing at my shirt and dropping everything else I was holding. I’d gotten three whole buttons on my shirt popped by the time I remembered it wasn’t technically necessary. I dropped my bag immediately at the thought, tugging on the hem of the shirt and trying to bring it over my head.

Unfortunately, I still hadn’t regained my grace, and in the muddled mess of fabric, I’d also grabbed hold of my undershirt. Which meant that whoever was walking through the empty halls of the early morning in academia would find me, with my stomach exposed and clothing dripping while unintelligible curses flowed freely from my lips.

I expected most people would probably just turn around and leave. I probably would’ve. The giant splatter of coffee and the absolute idiot slipping in it were beyond saving.

But there was at least one person who saw the mess and stayed.

I smelled his cologne before I felt his hand was pressed over the bare skin of my lower back. Despite the fact my skin was burning, it welcomed the warmth of his touch. My body stopped at his command, waiting for him to break me free of the paradoxically frozen state I was in.

He pulled the shirt back down, just enough that I could see him when he wrapped his cardigan around my shoulders and started guiding me into his office, which I’d somehow managed to almost walk straight past in my daze. I wished that I could go back there, to the imaginary world where he hadn’t just seen me half disrobed and cursing while covered in the coffee that I’d meant to give to him.

Spencer’s hands left me once the door was shut, probably trusting, or at least hoping, that I could figure out the mess on my own. Oddly enough, I didn’t notice any signs of him staring at me. Like he only felt comfortable looking when I was clothed.

I tried not to think about it. Once I did manage to free myself of one of the shirts — without further flashing my boss — the anxiety brewing inside of me burst out in the form of frantic shouting.

“Hi Professor! I’m so sorry, I spilled the coffee!”

“Yeah, I... saw the puddle,” he mumbled, throwing a cursory glance back at the hallway before his eyes met mine with a terrifying level of compassion, “Are you alright?”

“Besides the boiling liquid on my skin and the horrid embarrassment? I guess,” I mumbled back before shouting, “Shit! This is why that woman sued McDonald’s! Why do stores serve coffee like that?!”

Spencer didn’t really say anything. In fact, he kind of just stood as frozen as I had been, staring at everything around me rather than meeting my eyes again. But while he seemed somewhat cool and composed, I continued to tug at my clothes to try and avoid the friction. It was then that he cleared his throat, covering his face just like he’d done when he saw me in an arguably more provocative position the week before.

Arguably, I said. I should have known that Spencer would win any argument. I should have considered why he was making such a point of not looking at me while I clawed at the white undershirt turned beige. But I didn’t. Not until I looked down to inspect the state of my skin.

I realized then that Spencer had been trying to figure out a way to inform me that not only had the coffee turned my shirt a different shade — it had also eliminated the opacity.

He could see my bra. Spencer Reid, my boss, was trying not to stare at my very clearly visible bra.

“God, this is the worst Monday of all Mondays!” I whined between half-sobs, “and Mondays are already bad, Professor!”

There must have been something else in that cry, too. Something akin to permission. Enough for him to step closer, managing to avoid looking at my chest in the process. I’d entirely forgotten that he’d wrapped me in his cardigan until he pulled it tighter around my shoulders like his own version of an embrace.

“That they are, Bunny.”

If my skin had been heated before, it turned to flames at the use of the nickname. It was honestly a pure work of magic that the liquid on me didn’t turn vaporize the second I’d heard the word.

Bunny?

I pushed the thought away as quick as humanly possible, focusing instead on the way my clothes were going from uncomfortably hot to frigid as a result of the usually refreshing air conditioning. But when I was once again reminded of the obvious undergarment, I sighed.

“I can probably ask a friend to bring me a replacement shirt, or just go to class like this,” I thought aloud, “No one really looks at me, anyway...”

Spencer’s response came immediately, his hands flying up in protest as he shouted, “No!”

I wasn’t quite sure how to reply to that, or even which part of the statement he was objecting to, so he was met with a wide-eyed, slow blinking stare.

“I-I mean, I have a shirt you can borrow. I don’t want to subject you to any further embarrassment,” he explained at a significantly more appropriate volume, “You can just wear my extra shirt.”

He turned away from me before I could respond, shuffling through something hidden beneath his desk that created more questions than answers for me.

“Why do you have an extra shirt?”

“Go bag,” he said in the most nondescript manner. It wasn’t necessarily abnormal, either. The question I’d asked didn’t spark any concerns in his mind, but it also wasn’t the question that I felt needed to be asked.

What I really wanted to say was caught in my throat. My hands clamped together in front of me tighter than my jaw that resisted opening to make way for the thoughts that felt more scandalous than they should’ve been.

“U-Um, Professor don’t you think—“

“Here you go,” he offered with a smile. I took the large, plain black shirt with a hefty dose of caution, my hands shaking along with my broken voice that still couldn’t finish the sentence from before.

Spencer finally noticed the struggle on my face, and I watched his body move from comfortable to defensive in a matter of seconds. Like he was worried he’d done something wrong in trying to be kind.

He hadn’t, but I felt like I had.

“Won’t people... you know?” I mumbled, motioning a hand between the two of us, “I’m showing up to your class at 8AM wearing your clothes…”

I thought that the words alone would be enough. I thought that the gesture was overkill. But Spencer was still staring at me with his head cocked to the side and his eyes narrowed in thought.

I was going to have to say it.

Won’t they think we’re having sex?

There was no way I was going to be able to say it.

“Aren’t you concerned about people getting… the wrong idea?” I blurted out, instead.

The confusion on his face shifted to a clever little self-assured smirk so fast that I almost missed the transition. My stomach flipped from the sight, but then he spoke again, and what had felt like it was filled with butterflies turned to rocks.

“I’d much rather them gossip about something that’s not happening than watch the young boys ogle you instead of paying attention.”

It wasn’t the words, but the way that he’d said them. Like they were silly, like the idea of us being together was so preposterous it could only be entertained by people he perceived to be children.

I was foolish, too.

“Don’t worry about them,” he said with a wave, “Just worry about making this Monday a little bit better.”

“O-okay. Thanks,” I whispered, turning and running from the room only to be reminded of the mess I’d made. But the pool of tawny liquid on the floor wasn’t the most disastrous thing anymore. That honor was reserved for the state of my heart, begrudgingly continuing to beat despite being broken.

Scooping up my bag that I’d abandoned before, I tried to allow myself to be happy about the little things. For instance, the fact that the shirt Spencer had handed me was probably the softest thing I’d ever felt in my life. It made sense, considering the sensory issues he always described.

Still, I waited until I was in the safety of a bathroom stall before I buried my face in the fabric. It smelled just like him, a mixture of freshly done laundry and vanilla. Much better than the cheap, burnt coffee that covered me. Funny enough, that sort of smelled like him, too.

By the time I slipped into his clothes, I had almost forgotten his joke entirely. I was too lost in the joy of sweater paws from his cardigan and fabric that felt like a hug. Or at least, what I’d imagined a hug from him would be like.

The energy it provided me was a better pick-me-up than any cup of coffee had ever been. I kept my squealing as quietly as I could, bouncing in place just like the nickname he’d chosen to let stick. But before I returned to him, I felt something. A small, noticeable weight in one of the cardigan pockets.

If I’d thought about it for longer than five seconds, if I’d reminded myself that they were his clothes and not mine, I would’ve let it be. I wouldn’t have pulled the little object from its safe hiding spot. It would have stayed locked away, leaving me none the wiser of its presence.

But I didn’t think about it, and then there I was, holding onto the sobriety token I should’ve seen coming.

Not that it was a bad thing; I already knew Spencer had a history with drugs. He’d mentioned it in passing in class and was deeply involved with a number of volunteer programs around the area. At one point, I’d even taken it upon myself to research his history.

That research, while I regretted it now, feeling that it violated his privacy some way or another, led me to a second conclusion. As my thumb ghosted over the embossed number five, I realized that Spencer had been sober since he was released from prison.

My heart swelled with pride and relief that felt shameful. I didn’t want the token to have such a profound effect on the image of him I’d already crafted in my mind. Lord knew I didn’t need any more reasons to idolize him. And, at the end of the day, I’d only discovered this information by happenstance.

Part of respect, I decided, meant ignoring the way that fate seemed to push us together. If Spencer ever wanted my opinion on his sobriety or strength, surely, he would just ask. So, I slipped the chip back into the pocket and made my way back to him without worry for what it meant.

While I had no worries, Spencer was another story. I’d barely even made it through the door when he saw me. All of the papers he’d been holding immediately fell from his hands the same way the coffee had fallen from mine.

“Oh no! My clumsiness was contagious!” I laughed, bolting over to help him only to find his face an unhealthy shade of red. He chuckled back but said nothing else as he scrambled to pick up the loose-leaf that had splayed itself all over the floor.

Once we were back on our feet and as collected as we could be considering the circumstances of the morning thus far, his eyes met mine again. His cheeks were still flushed, unable to focus on anything specific and choosing to traverse my body the same way his hands had on Halloween.

“Sorry,” he mumbled in a way that made me wonder if he knew I could hear him, “I was distracted by how unfair it is that you look better in my clothes than I do.”

It was my turn to be flustered, but Spencer didn’t let the moment drag on. He tore himself away from me in every sense of the word, marching past me and halfway exiting the room before he found the courage to look at me again.

“Are you ready to head to class?” he asked as if it were an option.

I suppose to him, it was. For a second I imagined what the future would hold for us if I’d said no. What would he have done if I begged him to stay with me, instead? What if we rebelled against expectation and remained locked away in his office until we grew tired of one another? What if we never did?

My mind filled with fantasies of Spencer’s hands freely feeling my skin the way his clothes could. I could hear soft, breathy sounds of desire shaped like my name. For all of my inexperience, he would still find me intoxicating. He would grow drunk on me the same way a child finds endless joy in sweets that really ought to make them sick.

Then again, maybe he had grown used to the sugar. Maybe he wanted something more mature, a bitterness like molasses that was only earned from years I hadn’t had yet.

Regardless, I couldn’t really get into any of that. Instead, I just flashed a very awkward thumbs up to the man fifteen years my elder when I droned, “Sure am, Professor man.”

As stupid as it felt to do something so juvenile, the smile he gave was worth it.

“Alright then, Bunny,” he answered with his own little peace sign, “Let’s hop along.”

——————————————————

It hadn’t even been a week since I saw her, scantily clad in the plush, socially acceptable equivalent of lingerie. It’d been even less time since I admitted my own weakness to her. I’d replayed the memories of her visceral responses to my touch enough times that I should be sick of it. But there was no tiring of her.

I considered deleting the photos she’d sent me, convinced that it was cruel to keep them when she’d only sent them while inebriated and undoubtedly exhausted beyond belief.

But when I woke up in the morning, my stomach still reeling from the knowledge of what I’d done, all that she’d sent was a curious collection of emotes and a very brief note.

“Oops!” she’d written, “Bad bunny?”

I put that phrase out of my mind immediately, unable to handle the way it incited the desire for destruction in my veins.

“I’m always glad to hear that you are safe.”

That was the end of the conversation, and I was grateful for that much. Even the few words we’d exchanged would haunt me until I saw her again. Of course, the torture ended there, but only for a few seconds before it was replaced with other images and words.

It’d been hours since I’d found her flailing about half-naked in the hall while uttering rushed curses that sounded too crude for her lips. It’d been hours since I felt the soft skin of her lower back and became lost in an entirely different set of fantasies.

It’d been even less time since I saw her standing at my door, pulling on the sleeves of my sweater and staring at me with nervous, shifty glances. Completely unaware of just how beautiful she was in her simplicity. How much more torturous it was to see her wearing my clothes than any lustful suffering that lingerie or nudity could elicit.

I thought that it would get better throughout the day, but it didn’t. It only got worse.

I’d stepped out of my office for barely half an hour, but I returned to find her curled up on the plush chair. Her shoes were slipped off, revealing colorful socks that clashed with every other neutral color she wore. It somehow made me want her even more.

I stayed stuck for a few seconds longer, watching her with bated breath and shameless admiration. She was so caught up in the papers on her lap that she didn’t even notice my presence until the door clicked shut. It was then that she turned to see me, allowing a smile to blossom across her face despite eyes narrowed with suspicion.

“What’s all of this?” she asked, gesturing to the collection of bags hanging from my wrists.

“Did you know…” I started before my heart stopped at how she always leaned forward with excitement whenever I started a sentence that way, “that food is one of the best ways to solve a terrible Monday?”

“Which scientific study did you get that from?”

I paused again, debating telling her the many studies that would support such a theory, but then decided against it. Instead, I sought out her laughter and childlike joy that always brought out the best of her.

“Garfield,” I answered.

Sure enough, the office filled with the melodious sound of her happiness. I moved as quietly as I could, thinking back to when I was younger and thought of how powerful bottled laughter would be if I could capture it. Hers would surely right so many wrongs.

“You don’t have to take it if you don’t want to, but I figure it’s the least I could do.”

She approached me to assist before I’d even made it to my desk, and although I thought her hands were far too soft to be bothered with something like this, I allowed her to help.

“You could do nothing, you know. It was my own fault.”

“Yeah, but I wanted to.”

She laughed again, shier and shrinking into the sweater as she tried to find her place in such a domestic activity as sharing a meal with me in private. I thought of how it was a taste of my dreams.

Because as often as I did fantasize about her, undone, bare-skinned, and defenseless to my desires, I just as often envisioned her just like this. In fact, I found those fantasies more dangerous. They couldn’t be written off as mere lust. They were another, scarier thing.

“Well, lucky you I am an exhausted, broke grad student, so free food will always win me over,” she muttered, half-sarcastically but just sad enough to bother me.

“Duly noted,” I said.

I hid away the promises I wanted to make. That if she were mine, she would want for nothing. That I would give her everything she needed to bloom. That I would prune away any neighboring flower that dared get in her way or block the sunlight. There would be no need to worry of predators or pollinators intruding, because she would belong to me and only me.

I would be her earth, her rain, and her sun. I would be surely and shamelessly selfish.

Her shoulders rose with a cheeky, excited little giggle once she had collected her food. I wanted nothing more than to let her enjoy it to her heart’s content… but there was a problem.

“Nuh-uh, no way,” I chuckled before she had a chance to return to the chair with her precarious paper plate, “Get in the other chair.”

Her face scrunched up, bouncing back and forth between the two seats in the room like she’d heard something so strange that it must have been a mistake.

“Wh— your chair?”

“I will not have you ruining another shirt today,” I explained. It caused the confusion to quickly shift to an embarrassed frustration within seconds. Just as she opened her mouth to protest my teasing, I continued with something I knew would tie her tongue until she could no longer argue.

“If you’re so worried about what they’ll say when you show up in my shirt, just think of how they’ll talk if they catch you wearing nothing.”

That stubborn little thing still tried. Her mouth floundered, strange sounds of protest starting but never finishing until she gave up. She sulked over to the seat with an odd amount of self-satisfaction. She settled into my space as comfortably as she always did. With an ease that was almost unsettling to my tired, tortured heart.

Swapping places with her for that little bit of time was a good idea. I hadn’t expected that it would bring me as much serenity as it did. My usually busy lips kept their focus on the food, opting to listen to her ramble about any and everything that came to mind.

It wasn’t until she was fifteen minutes into an explanation on her paper that I realized how little I’d tried to learn about her life outside of me. Whether it was self-preservation or narcissism, I’d never decided. But what I was certain of was that it had been a brutal form of self-sabotage.

Because as I sat there, watching her clumsily, excitedly swinging her fork and proving my point that it had been a good decision to give her the desk, I saw her for in a different light than before.

She was not just a beautiful, mysterious flower peeking through the concrete. She was the trembling giant, the clonal colony of thousands of quaking aspen trees. An extravagant network of roots that flowed far beyond the seed that started them.

This sprout might be new, but her soul was ancient and celestial, wise and immortal.

“Who knows?” she sighed, coming to a natural conclusion of a story I had almost missed while lost in daydreams and metaphors, “Maybe one day I’ll be a professor, too.”

“You’d be good at it.”

For once, it felt like she accepted the compliment without a fight. I considered it progress all the way up until she shot back a thinly veiled taunt.

“Thanks. Means a lot from someone who has 4 stars on rate my professor!”

“Don’t forget the chili pepper,” I jokingly returned.

“Not sure I’d get one of those.”

I knew that my disagreement wouldn’t amount to much in the grand scheme of things, so I opted for a slightly-self-centered flattery instead.

“Just show up in that outfit,” I said with a nod that barely hid my actual intention of focusing my eyes on the rest of her, “you’ll be golden.”

“You gonna let me borrow it in ten years?” she hummed.

It was a dangerous proposition, an implication that made the pitter-pattering in my chest unbearable. Rather than chasing her down the rabbit hole of fantasies, I just chuckled before I answered, “You know how to find me.”

Then it happened again. Her face slowly changed, growing from a cautious optimism to a yearning. A subtle hint of words left unsaid. And although she wet her lips and set down her fork, the words never came out. They stayed stalled in her throat, and there was no discernible way for me to drag them out of her without hurting the both of us.

When a loud knock resounded through the room, the thought ended altogether.

“Come in,” I grimly announced, recognizing the intrusive sound as the death rattle for whatever might have been said.

As the door opened, I realized the same time (y/n) did that we had forgotten that the rest of the outside world wasn’t familiar with our dynamic. They didn’t have the backstory of how she’d perched herself on my chair with her shoes off and wearing my clothes.

Torn between scrambling to take more socially acceptable positions and the knowledge that our hurry would make us look even more suspicious, we both opted to remain frozen in place like deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming train.

When the door opened, however, I was somewhat relieved to see someone I found completely unthreatening. My closest colleague, a woman that should really terrify me all things considered, seemed mostly perplexed when she found a young girl in my seat.

She quickly turned to me, drawing out her words as she asked, “Oh. I’m sorry, am I... interrupting something?”

“No, what can I help you with, Candy?”

“I was hoping we could talk about my current paper proposal.”

She paused, and I took the moment to follow her glower to the flower still stationary behind my desk. (Y/n) stared back, seemingly frightened by the presence of the other Professor.

“If you’re busy with... office hours…” Candy muttered before turning back to me, “we can always set up a meeting for a better time.”

Before I could address the possible tension or implication, the girl at my desk sprung to action, clearing off any sign of her presence as she spoke.

“You know, I actually need to get going.”

“Are you sure?”

She didn’t look at me when she answered, “Yeah, I’m sure your papers are more important.”

If I’d turned back to Candy, I might have seen the condescending scowl that was driving her away. If I’ve had any inclination or desire to look at Candy, I would have realized that (y/n) wasn’t trying to escape from her connection to me. She was just trying to get out of my way.

It didn’t make it any harder to watch her leave. I took solace in the fact that she held tighter to my cardigan, trusting me to keep her warm by proxy as she ventured back into the real world. The world where we couldn’t be in peace.

“Thanks for the advice, Professor,” she said before she left, “You were right. As usual.”

One last smile was shared, somber but sobering. A necessary break from the intimacy of the moment.

“See you in class.”

The office felt so much duller without her radiance, but my disappointment would have to wait. As much as I actually didn’t mind the world knowing how my heart hurt from her absence, I knew that it was best I didn’t let it impact her academic career.

“Sorry again for the intrusion,” my colleague said in a much happier voice.

“It’s not a problem at all.”

She must have noticed the way it sounded like a lie, because her tone quickly shifted back to a slightly disgruntled confusion.

“I didn’t realize she was your student, too. What class is she in?”

It was juvenile, really, the way my heart fluttered so ridiculously at the mere mention of her existence. The excuse to discuss her again.

“Oh, did she not tell you?”

Candy just shook her head with a blatantly false smile.

“Unsurprisingly modest,” I laughed, making my way back over to my seat and running my fingers over the wooden armrests like it would be the same as touching her ghost, “She’s my TA.”

“Oh… I see.”

“She was the only one who would put up with me,” I offered with a chuckle. Self-deprecating humor was the only reliable personality trait I had. It was also, unfortunately, one that most women in my life despised and refused to let sit.

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

It sounded less sweet coming from her. I wrote it off as a product of the differences in their species. While the hummingbird of a girl who’d just flittered away was used to only drinking the sweetest, purest nectar, the bird of prey who’d entered relied on the work of others to gather the sweetness before they were devoured.

That wasn’t to say she was cruel; hawks are as much a miracle of nature as hummingbirds. I simply related to one more than the other. I understood one while the other remained a mystery. And I loved mysteries more than myself.

“So, you wanted to talk about your paper?”

“Oh! Yes,” she chirped, passing the packet over to me now that I’d found my way back to what she probably deemed my rightful place. “The conference is coming up so much faster than I anticipated, and I would love to hear your opinions on my first draft.”

I’d already started to read the first page when she spoke again, uncharacteristically bashful and anxious, “Since we’ll be presenting together, I figured...”

“Yeah, no problem at all,” I interrupted, not wanting her to dwell nor expand on the thought of us doing anything together any more than necessary, “I can send you mine.”

It felt curt, blunt, and off putting when I said it, but she didn’t take it as such.

“Wonderful. You have such a unique voice when you’re writing. It’s very refreshing.”

Immediately, a memory appeared at the forefront of my mind and led to a laugh that I couldn’t contain. Candy seemed pleased at the sound, and I felt the need to explain.

“Thanks. (Y/n) likened it to Ray Bradbury at one point, although in different and less flattering words.”

I could hear her clear as day, quoting my words with an overdramatized effect before laughing, ‘Pack it up, Bradbury, you’ve got more science stuff to explain.’

Of course, we both found her laughter-ridden explanation of the ‘meme’ far funnier than the original joke. She was probably the only person in the world who never seemed bothered by explaining everything to me ad nauseam.

“She is... certainly a choice as a TA,” Candy strained upon scrutinizing the smile that had returned to my face for the first time since (y/n)’s departure, “Will she be joining us at the conference?”

But then the guilt returned, wiping the smile from my face and replacing happy memories with deviant thoughts and fears.

“Oh... you know, I haven’t asked her.”

“That’s perfectly alright! I think we’ll do just fine without her.”

“Right...” I whispered, glancing back down at the stack of papers in my hand before setting it in the tray designated for (y/n). “I’ll have her look at your paper just in case.”

A lull in the conversation stretched past the point of comfort for both of us, and I glanced up at the woman I actually felt guilty for ignoring in place of fantasies that would probably never come to be. She hadn’t even done anything to warrant my disregard. She was an attractive woman — as beautiful as she was brilliant, really — she had worked very hard to garner my trust and academic collaboration. At one point, I had considered her one of the few potential candidates for something more than a purely academic partner.

But there was something about the way she looked at the honeyed girl that made my hair stand on end. A defensiveness and instinct that couldn’t be ignored.

“Is there anything else you need?”

“No, that was all,” she said as she broke from what I presumed to be her own daydream, “I hope your semester keeps going well.”

“Thanks, I hope yours does, too.”

I meant it, despite the aforementioned concern. I wished her well in the semester for both selfless and selfish reasons. I wished her well because she deserved it, certainly. But the other reason, the larger one, was that I hoped she would remain distracted. I hoped that she didn’t notice the way I would slip away from her affections to chase those from a more interesting challenge. One that remained mysterious, with hair covered in pollen and lips sweet with ambrosia.

“I’ll talk to you soon, Dr. Reid.”

I failed to respond to her again before the door shut because my hands were already busy with rekindling contact with another.

“I have a proposition for you, Bunny.”

“Sounds ominous. I’m in.”

The fact that the response came before I could even shut off the display was so characteristic of her that I had to laugh.

“You haven’t even heard it yet,” I observed, to which she once again immediately responded, “Your point being?”

“I’m afraid this is an obligation that does require some expansion before agreement.”

Her response was slower, then, and I could almost see her with a slight panic and overwhelming curiosity that grew stronger by the second.

“Ominous and vaguely unsettling,” she said.

I considered drawing it out further, letting her imagination truly run wild with the possibilities. But then I realized that if she thought hard enough about it, she might reach the same place that had immediately come to my mind.

“Would you like to attend the upcoming conference with me?” I relented, almost stopping there but then frantically tagging on the conditions I knew would be most likely to cause hesitation. “You’d have your own room, of course. The department and I will help with funds.”

But, as it turned out, I didn’t need to be worried.

“A cheap weekend away from school where I get to be a nerd with you?” she sent with another set of small, smiling faces I was only just starting to understand, “Of course I’m going to say yes, Professor!”

“Perfect. I’ll arrange it.”

“I can’t wait!”

Although I felt the same, I forced myself to end contact again. I put my phone out of reach to prevent myself from spoiling any more of my fantasies than I already had. I didn’t need her to second-guess the possibilities of a weekend away together now that she’d already agreed to it.

The thought alone sparked guilt anew. Through the entire interaction, I’d infused each word with a charge that shouldn’t have been. Each line was far more provocative than it needed to be.

It was just an academic conference. Most people found them terribly dull, not to mention physically exhausting. It would not be a time away like most couples dreamed of because we were not a couple in any sense of the word.

Yet… I couldn’t help but feel that perhaps there weren’t as many differences as one might think. Because while yes, most people would be bored, I didn’t think Bunny would be. Clandestine meetings made between conference meetings sounded exactly like the kind of dreams we would share.

I believed it so strongly that my mind had already drafted several narratives that would suit her. I pictured her and I sharing company in public, unafraid of public displays of affection — innocent, childish kinds, of course — because we were miles away from those who might care.

That drunken, lust-inducing, half-lidded gaze from the week before would return. Except this time, I would taste the wine on her tongue, my hands sliding not over fluffy fabric, but the same skin that I’d felt for the first time that morning.

Behind our door, I would teach her so many things. Things that she would have begged me for. Things that others would see written on her skin in the shape of my fingers and mouth. Things that she would carry with a straighter back and dripping down her legs.

I didn’t just want to destroy her. I wanted to break her so that I could build her back with gold-laced lacquer. She would be my kintsugi creation full of sugar and honey, just imperfect enough that the sticky residue of her sweetness would slip through the cracks to coat everything she touched.

And then she would touch me, and I might finally feel like I deserved anything at all.

——————————————————

| Part Five |

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