#but i had wanted to explain this for a while know and i had the Words

[readwritealldayallnight]

It’s been months since Simon has been home

All he wants is to see you, his sweet girl, so much so that he loses track of what the actual date on the calendar is, in favour of counting down the days, hours, and minutes until you’re in his arms again

That’s why Simon’s surprise when he walks in to the local shops is genuine, before quickly turning into annoyance, when he notices that almost all the shelves are stocked with things for Valentine’s Day

Bright red, pink, and purple gifts covered in glitter and sparkles, sequins and jewels, all of them screaming out one word, over and over and over again for shoppers to see

Love

It’s a word Simon tries not to think about too often, in spite of it being part of his daily vocabulary

Yes, while your hunk of a man’s favourite pet name for you has always been love, it’s a word he has yet to say to you outside of being anything more than a name, a word he has yet to say he feels for you, even though his heart spells it out with ease each time he is with you

It’s hard for him because he can remember exactly the last time he told someone that three word sentence

Christmas Eve, a lifetime ago, he’d just gotten off the phone with his brother, sister-in-law, and nephew, hearing the young boy shout out into the receiver that he loved his uncle Si, a light hearted chuckle slipping past the Lieutenants lips before he’d replied back without issue that he loved him too, before he hung up and never heard his family’s voices ever again

He wants to say it to you because it’s true

He does love you more than anything, but he just can’t bring himself to say it

Those memories have become so tangled up in trauma, his mind associating darker times with those three goddamn words, the ones he knows would mean so much for you to hear he just can’t bring himself to speak aloud

He has dreams where he forces himself to say it, where he tells you a thousand times over that he loves you, whispers it in your ear, shouts it from the rooftops, writes it down everywhere for you to see and even etches it into his flesh with a needle and ink, until the dreams become nightmares and he’s yelling those words at your bloody corpse, writing it in the snow dusting your tombstone, waking up in a cold sweat, dreading the day you say those three words to him and he can’t explain why he can’t say them back

And while he can’t yet explain to you all of the demons that continue to call his skull their home, he finds himself not needing to, not with you

With you, there is no pressure to say things that cause him more pain than joy, there is no need to explain things that he struggles to fully comprehend himself, there is no need to perform or act in any way that isn’t true to him, not with you, his sweet girl who somehow understands him more than he feels he understands himself most days

Instead, with you, he gets to say things that are his own version of I love you, no matter how grand or small:

“I see you”

“You’re the best thing I’ve ever had”

“I can’t believe I get to call you mine”

“You make me so happy”

“Let me carry that for you”

“Put your seatbelt on”

“I made dinner”

“I’ll do the dishes, you go sit”

When the 14th of February eventually rolls around, you aren’t expecting anything out of the ordinary, never having acknowledged the upcoming gimmick of a holiday with Simon

Which is why you’re so surprised when you wake up to find the spot next to you in bed empty, noises in the kitchen letting you know Simon hasn’t gone far

Bare feet slowly padding towards the sounds of a grand breakfast being prepared with much frustration from a seasoned soldier who struggles to use seasoning, you can’t help the overwhelming grin that takes over you face when you see nothing more than a simple card standing up on the dining table, no bells or whistles, no flower petals thrown all over the flat, no orchestra serenading you awake, just you and Simon, all you need, all you want

Reading the card stretches your smile further than you thought possible, quickly sneaking up on your love to wrap your arms around him from behind, his own matching smile etched upon his face as he scrambles up the eggs, imagining you enjoyed the card, which reads in his scratchy handwriting:

“ I ♥️ you ”

[softyuujis]

I want to put my two cents on a Caleb headcanon cause I saw a few and I don’t like em so here’s mine for the possessive girlies out there.

Caleb is a BIG virgin. Has never looked at anyone who isn’t MC/you. Has never had a thought of another girl or woman who wasn’t you. Never imagined a life with someone else other than you. It’s ALWAYS and will always be you. He wants every first to be special and it’ll only be special if it’s with you. First hug, first hand hold, first kiss, first time intimate; it HAS to be just you, just you and him together.

HOWEVER, he’s not dumb. He knows his first time together with you has to be perfect. He can’t be coming undone in his pants before he’s had a chance to enter you. He can’t get overtly excited touching you resulting in making a fool of himself. So naturally he turns to books. From female anatomy books that explain the clit and where the g-spot is. To romance books to smut books. Anything describing the female pleasure you bet he’s checking it out, reading word for word, 100% taking notes and reading them twice, thrice so it’s imbedded into his head so when the time finally comes he doesn’t fumble.

And while boys and men use porn to get off, Caleb uses it like he’s got a school assignment where has to watch a movie and take notes. From porn on the popular page, to the inexperienced couples making their very first videos, Caleb assesses each and has pen to paper. Scrutinizing each facial movement, determining if the pleasure written is legitimate or amped up for show (he especially hates those). Every touch, every glide, every thrust, he zeros in on it and puts it to paper.

Does he get hard? Originally, no. He sees this as any ordinary assignment. For the sake of your pleasure. But then one girl looks a little like you for a second, and maybe the man beside her from the side looks a little like him. And then his mind drift to you. You in these positions, him right there with you, touching you, making you moan. He never reaches completion if he doesn’t imagine you, you and him, together. After all, all that he’s doing is for you. For your comfort, your pleasure, you moans and shakes underneath him. So he does a good job, so he’s good for you.

And while technically it would be much easier to put what’s he learned to use on someone else, he can’t go through that betrayal. He is after all, all yours. Being touched by another would be a violation of your relationship. Yes, he’ll keep the good guy act in public, smile to everyone, laugh at a few jokes but words and insincere smiles is all anyone else gets. You receive him wholeheartedly. All his jokes, all his touches and brushes of skin. All his thoughts and attention. All you. All of him is yours.

[rafesslxt]

beach night

DAY 1 valentines special <3

SUMMARY: it‘s your first valentines day together and rafe wants to do something special for you, even asking his sister for help.

WARNINGS: make-out session at the beach, rafe being the cutest ever, romantic date, emotional gift, rafe crying, mention of rafe's passed away mom

WORD COUNT: 2,4k

NOTE: english isn‘t my first language, thank you all for reading! Every like, comment or reblog is appreciated! <3

"What are you doing?“ Sarah‘s voice echoed through the steamy kitchen as she appeared in the doorway, which was filled with smoke and cursings coming from Rafe‘s lips as he tried to scratch the last remnants of noodles from the pot that was now pitch black.

"I‘m cooking." his voice was tight, his jaw tensed as he thossed the ruined pan into the kitchen sink. "fuckn‘ shit" he mumbled under his breath, running a hand over his buzz cut and then across his face.

"Yeah.. and why are you trying to cook?“ Rafe sighed, now looking at his sister's amused face. "It's valentines day." he answered, as If that would explain anything.

He rolled his eyes and groaned. "I wanted to surprise her with a.. romantic dinner." A smile crept onto Sarah’s face at her brother’s words. 

"Oh I should‘ve known this is about y/n. Why else would you be in the kitchen the first time after 20 years. So, what did you have in mind ?"

Rafe glanced back at his culinary disaster.  "I wanted to surprise her with dinner tonight – i know i can‘t cook, so I thought I’d practice beforehand to avoid ruining it.”

"Why don‘t you take her to a nice restaurant? You know she appreciates everything, no matter what you do." Sarah should know, she‘s your best friend. But Rafe already knew that you would be happy even if you both just sat on the couch watching movies all night long.

"I know that. But she deserves more. She deserves everything. And I don‘t want to do something with money, that‘s not impressing her." He sank into a chair, running both hands over his head, his elbows resting on the desk in front of him. “Can you help me?” 

"What?", Sarah looked at her brother in surprise. "You heard me. You‘re her best friend, you have to have an idea come on." "Well -", she began, walking over to sit across from him. 

"I mean let‘s brainstorm. What does y/n like? What is she talking about the whole time when you two are together?"

He leaned back, letting memories of their conversations, dates, and time spent together flood his mind "I mean she loves her family, her dog, her friends.. she likes clothes and makeup.."

His sister rolled her eyes. "Not like that. That‘s what every girl likes. I meant stuff like.. her passions."

Rafe nods. "She loves animals, always talking 'bout them. Loves trying new food, experimenting with it while cooking. Uh – she also loves the beach, the ocean in general."

Sarah smiled at him, causing his eyebrows to furrow in confusion. "What?“ "I didn‘t know you could be such a listener."

"Come on, Sarah, I don't have time for this." his voice tighter than before. "Alright alright.. what about a date at the beach?", she suggested.

Rafe's eyes widened, "Yes yes yes! She once showed me some tiktok's of a picnic at the beach 'n stuff. Bet she would love that." Rafe stood up from his chair and began pacing around the kitchen, excitement coursing through him at the thought of her face when she saw a full picnic spread out on the beach. 

"But how do I get the food to be warm when we get there ? I would have to pick her up." His gaze landed on his sister again. "Can you pick her up?"

"Yeah gonna do. John B and I aren't meeting until 10 pm." "Okay great. Uhm - okay I need to go and get everything. Just text her you wanna do something with her since John B doesn't have time for you -" "Uh - he does have time; he's just-" "Yeah yeah, broke ass boyfriend who's late so he has to push the date to 10pm to get everything sorted."

-

He had literally thought of everything. He even enlisted Topper’s help, since that idiot hadn’t managed to secure a date aside from a little hookup that never happened because she dumped him.

Topper assisted him in setting up four fire torches adorned with fairy lights, and he also brought over the food while Rafe continued arranging the rest. He arrived exactly five minutes before you were supposed to show up with Sarah.

“Thanks, man.” He gave his friend a light slap on the shoulder, surveying the setup.

"No problem man, I like y/n. Even though she's a pogue." Topper chuckled before he turned towards Rafe. "Okay bro, gonna leave before the princess arrives. Call me up If you need anything else alright?" He nods and starts walking backwards while Rafe gave him thumbs up and a little smile.

Topper hopped into his car and drove off the beach, taking a different route to avoid crossing paths with you and Sarah. 

Meanwhile you and Sarah laughed in her car to a joke she just told you. "I can't believe he said that!" "It's JJ, what do we expect I guess?", you giggled, glancing outside the window for a short moment. "Yeah, touche."

You noticed Sarah taking a turn toward the beach instead of continuing down the road to her place. “Where are we going?” you asked, curious. "I don't know, felt like taking a quick stop at the beach. Romantic at Valentinesday.", she joked, wiggling her eyebrows.

A small laugh left your lips at her corniness. "Stop, you're almost acting like JJ when he wants Rafe to get mad at him for flirting with me." "I know, saw it last time and I had to listen to Rafe ranting the whole day at home how he's gonna punch JJ in the face so he never can talk to you ever again without a tongue."

You both hopped out of her car when she parked near the ocean. Just a little bit of sand separating you from the waves.

You quietly walked down towards the shore, Sarah taking a turn around a little cliff. That's when you saw it. Him.

"Have fun.", Sarah whispered into your eyes before disappearing behind you.

With your heart racing, you walked down theshore toward your boyfriend, a smile stretching across your face. “Rafe... what did you do?” you asked, clearly shocked, your breath taken away as the view became clearer.

As you reached him, he instantly reached out, pulling you close, his hands finding yours and intertwining your fingers. "Thought surprising you with something different than expensive stuff.", he smiled like a fool, full of love.

Tears of joy tingled in your eyes as you looked over his shoulder. It was breathtaking, like something out of a movie. Therewere various plates of food: one filled with your favorite fruits, another with candy, and a third brimming with crackers,cheese, olives, and everything he had found on Pinterest. Next to the plates sat a large pizza box and a bottle of your favorite wine, accompanied by two glasses.

Everything was beautifully arranged on a large white blanket, adorned with rose petals scattered among the different items.At the end of the blanket was a massive pile of pillows, every cushion Rafe could find around the house, except for those on the beds.

"This is - I don't even have words like, wow. It's so beautiful Rafe, thank you. Thank you so much." He reached down and tilted your head upwards, looking right into your eyes. "Everything. There's nothing I wouldn't do for you.", he whispered before crushing his lips against yours.

The kiss was tender and full of love, his lips moving slowly and intensely against yours.

He teased your bottom lip,smirking against your mouth as he felt you open up for him. His tongue found yours, and within moments, the kiss deepened,your hands exploring his chest and wrapping around his neck. Your body pressed against his, feeling his heart racing beneath his chest..

You felt your stomach getting all tingly, heat slowly pooling low in your stomach when you felt his hands greedily wandering over your stomach and right side, down towards your ass cupping it and pressing you even tighter against him.

A moan slipped past your lips, which he swallowed down like the air he needed to breathe. "Shit, stop doin' this shit or I'm gonna have you before we even made it to the blanket." he murmured against your lips, brushing his against yours.

Your eyes locked with his and a little smile formed on your lips. "Hmm, we wouldn't want that to happen, right?" A cheeky grin spread across Rafe’s face, revealing his mischievous thoughts.

You playfully rolled your eyes and took his hands in yours, pulling him toward the picnic. As you settled down, you glancedover your shoulder. When you turned back, Rafe was already hovering over you.

"I'm hungry.." Rafe grinned, looking at you like you were his last meal. "Rafe stop!", you giggled and pushed him off you so he tumbled beside you.

"Come on, let's eat before it gets cold.", you suggested, opening the pizza box. You took a piece and put it on a plate, placing it in front of Rafe while he uncorked the wine and poured each of you a glass.

"To us. To you, the most beautiful girlfriend on this planet.", he said with a cheeky smile, clinking his glass with yours before taking a sip.

You two started to eat and drink, the night filled with you guys laughter and chatting. "I know we said no big gifts and stuff but I still have something for you.", Rafe started when he placed a strawberry in front of your lips. "Rafe.." "Don't start baby doll, you're my girl, I can gift you what I want, alright?" A sight left your lips before you wrapped your lips around the strawberry, sucked it in a little bit and bit off a peace.

Rafe watched you intently, wetting his bottom lip with his tongue. "Damn you wanna get me high and dry tonight huh?" "What the hell?" you let out a loud laughter at that quote. "Weirdo.", you smirked at him while he pulled out a little box from the pocket of his jeans.

He pulled you into his lap, putting his head onto your shoulder from behind. "Here, open it.", he whispered inside your ear, putting it into your hands. You smiled at him and slowly took the lid off the small boy.

A small gasp left your lips when you looked at a beautiful shell that was threaded onto a golden necklace. "It's the shell you gave me when we first crashed into each other at the beach – the day you moved here, remember?" he kissed your cheek.

You could feel your heart aching with love, your troat slightly throbbing, trying to hold back the little sob. "You still have it?" "Hmm, always had it the top drawer beside my bed." his lips brushed against your cheek before he placed a gentle kiss there.

"Can you put it on me, please?" you asked, your bottom lip slightly quivering. " 'Course." he softly brushed your hair over your shoulder, took the necklace from your hand and placed it around your neck, securing the little clasp before placing your hair back over your shoulder. "Done."

You looked down at your chest and smiled at the little shell that hung now right above your other Necklace with an "R" on it. "It's beautiful, thank you. Can I give you yours now?", you smiled up at him, bending your head a little to look at him.

Before he could protest that you shouldn’t have gotten him anything, you pulled out something from your little purse. "Close your eyes." He obeyed, waiting patiently. You took his hand and opened it, placing the cool item in his palm.

"Okay, open now." ´, you told him, waiting for him to look at it. he opened his eyes and looked down o to his hand, a little golden necklace placed on it. He let out a chuckle and looked at you.

"Seems like we have similar tastes, huh?" "Open it, Rafe.", you said softly, knowing what's inside the golden pendant. He raised an eyebrow at you before taking it in both his hands and opening it up with his fingers.

His smile fell as he stared at the little black and white picture that was placed in it. He felt as if he were frozen, unable to move or even breathe. "Rafe? Baby..", you careful asked him, not sure If it may have been a bad idea to ask Sarah for that picture.

You saw his eyes filling with tears until the first one dropped right down his right cheeks, his lips starting to quiver. "I -" he tried to talk but his words were cut off by a little sob that made its way out of his throat. More tears followed down the first one on his cheek.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to make you cry, Rafe. Shit I -" He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a tight embrace, his head resting against your shoulder as he sobbed like a child, clutching the necklace in his fist. 

"Thank you.", he cried out, his eyes closed as he tried to regain his composure "Do you want me to put it on for you?", you asked softly, kissing his cheek while your arms were wrapped around him.

You just nodded, causing you to get up a little and carefully taking the necklace from his fist he had opened for you. You put it around his neck like he had earlier around yours and placed the pendant on his chest, a soft smile on your lips.

He looked down at it, opening it again and looking down at a little photo of his mom inside of it, smiling brightly at the camera.

"I asked your dad for it. He told me it was -", you corrected yourself, "is, his favorite picture of her." Rafe took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a second before meeting your gaze again.

"I love you so, so much, y/n. This is - it means so much to me." He said, his voice still trembling. "I love you too, Ray." He pulled you in for a sweet kiss, both his hands cradling your cheeks. "Best Valentine ever.", he chuckled against your lips, making you giggle.

Best Valentine indeed.

masterlist | taglist | navigation | valentines day special

taglist: @supernaturaldawning @cardibre91 @aegonsslxt @juliet-017 @lizzysmith110 @mattyskies @my-name-is-baby @synicaljah @tiaajosephin @gxdsfavgal @whyamireadingthis @starkeycore

xoxo sarah <3

[ayumigotabittoolonely]

Nerd gojo x nerd reader! Headcanons

Nerd!Gojo x Nerd!You Headcanons

Part 2 ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

♡ Gojo Satoru, the prodigy. The guy who solves complex math problems in his head like it’s a simple 2+2. If someone ask him how, he’ll just smirk and say, “Just run your mind faster.” As if that makes sense.

♡ Gojo, the last-minute genius. He does his assignments at the last possible second but still gets a perfect score. People have accused him of using black magic. He doesn’t deny it.

♡ Gojo, the overanalyzer. Someone calls him a know it all as a joke, and next thing they know, they’re stuck listening to a 30-minute breakdown of why intelligence is subjective and how human perception affects knowledge.

♡ Gojo, the human stopwatch. He calculates the exact time people take to do the most random things:

Shoko takes exactly 3.2 seconds to process a joke before laughing.

Suguru sniffs his food for 2.6 seconds before deciding if it’s poisoned.

His teacher blinks an average of 18 times per minute when lecturing.

♡ Gojo, the walking encyclopedia. He acts like he knows everything psychology, physics, chemistry, math. Whether he actually does or not is debatable, but he’ll never admit he’s wrong.

♡ Gojo, the fact machine. He drops random trivia constantly, just to flex. “Did you know honey never spoils?” “Gojo, no one cares.”

♡ Gojo, the exam escape artist. He drags Suguru out to do something totally unproductive before exams, but somehow still tops the class while Suguru barely passes. Suguru has stopped questioning it.

♡ Gojo, the romance skeptic. Laughs in the face of love at first sight, listing the exact probability of it happening.

♡ Gojo, the worst date ever. He once explained The Art of War on a date. The girl left before dessert. He still doesn’t know why.

♡ Gojo, the secret romance reader. He totally didn’t get caught reading a romance novel in the library. And he totally didn’t like it.

Then, there’s you.

♡ You, the transfer student. No expression. No reaction. The class went dead silent when you walked in, as if even breathing would be too loud. The teacher praised you, and you just nodded like it didn’t matter.

♡ You, Gojo’s accidental rival. Sitting next to him was a nightmare. He asked the most stupid questions, and you ignored all of them. He assumed you were just an edgy wannabe. That made him laugh.

♡ You, the real threat. When exam results came out, Gojo was shook. For the first time, he wasn’t the top scorer. You were. And your reaction? A shrug. No smile, no satisfaction. That’s when you became interesting.

♡ Gojo, the forced study partner. He forced the teacher to make you his partner. You weren’t amused.

“Why do I need to do practicals if I already know the answer?” you questioned

“To see if it’s true or not, dummy.” He grinned, waiting for your response.

“If it’s in the book, it’s already true.” He had never wanted to strangle someone and marry them at the same time before.

♡ Gojo, the doomed fool. No one ever entertained his nerdy ramblings, but you? You matched his energy. When you started debating him on his own topics, he knew he was done for.

♡ Gojo, the AI skeptic. He swears you talk like a robot.

“That’s not an effective method.”

“This is scientifically incorrect.”

“Are you a government experiment?”

♡ Gojo, the challenge seeker. He constantly challenged you to competitions. You refused every time. “Not interested in unnecessary drama.” That hurt his soul.

♡ Gojo, the frustrated observer. He needed to see a crack in your facade. Anything. He studied your every move, trying to prove you weren’t an AI.

♡ Gojo, the mimic. He caught you muttering the pi table to regain focus. He immediately adopted the technique.

♡ Gojo, the sore winner. If he scored higher than you, he wasn’t happy he was annoyed. What’s the point if you don’t even care?

♡ Gojo, the reluctant believer. He told you about his hobbies with way too much excitement. You told him about yours, but your blank expression made him question if you were lying.

♡ Gojo, the paranoid calculator. He tried analyzing your movements, but everything about you was too precise. It freaked him out.

♡ Gojo, the not-so-subtle spy. Since you lived next to Suguru, he used that as an excuse to observe you. Every time he saw you, you were either studying or staring out the window like a lifeless statue. You caught him multiple times. Instead of yelling, you just stared at him. It was terrifying.

♡ Gojo, the insecure nerd. He nervously brought up Dungeons & Dragons, expecting you to be clueless. Instead, you knew everything. He had never felt average before.

♡ Gojo, the desk menace. He constantly poked you during class, hoping for any reaction. You just stared at him, unblinking, until he became flustered and left.

♡ Gojo, the insane conversationalist. He told you the wildest theories, and you listened like it was just another casual conversation. It drove him insane.

It took me 4 days to think of a gojo nerd scenerio 😭

And you GUYS HAVE TO REQUEST DO IT

Part 2 will be here

@naomigojo

[maeintree]

almost doesn't count | s. reid

Summary: Spencer Reid has been crushing on you ever since you joined the BAU, and Valentine’s Day feels like the perfect time to finally ask you out Pairing: early seasons!Spencer Reid x agent!fem!Reader Word Count: -900 Author's Note: just some fillers to put something on my masterlist! and some lil lovey dovey valentine's day fics!! this is really short but i missed spencer so here ya go!

Spencer Reid had been working up the courage for weeks.

It wasn’t as if asking someone out was an impossible feat—he had recited entire passages of obscure literature from memory, broken down complex behavioral patterns in serial killers, and once even explained the mechanics of quantum entanglement to Morgan (who had promptly told him to shut up).

But somehow, walking up to you and asking you out on Valentine’s Day seemed more daunting than anything he’d ever faced before.

His crush on you had been a quiet thing at first, sneaking up on him the moment you joined the team. It started with stolen glances across the bullpen, the way your laugh made his heart stutter, and how you always listened—really listened—when he rambled. And then, before he knew it, you were in his thoughts more often than he cared to admit.

So, on Valentine’s Day, he made a decision: he was going to ask you out.

It started with a simple Valentine’s Day card. Well, simple in theory. In reality, it was an intricately folded piece of card-stock, filled with Spencer’s neat (?) but small handwriting, detailing an absurdly specific statistic about the origins of Valentine’s Day traditions.

You knew it was meant to be sweet, in his own Spencer way, but it also made your heart race in ways you weren’t prepared to admit.

Spencer, naturally, was oblivious.

“So, historically, Valentine’s Day wasn’t actually a romantic holiday,” he had begun, sitting across from you in the BAU’s break room, his fingers nervously fidgeting with the sleeve of his sweater. “It originated from the Roman festival Lupercalia, which was a—uh—fertility ritual involving the sacrifice of goats and, um, the slapping of women with strips of their hides.

Which is—obviously—not romantic at all, but somewhere around the 14th century, Geoffrey Chaucer wrote ‘Parlement of Foules,’ and that’s where the association with love really started. Although there’s also speculation that St. Valentine himself was a priest who performed marriages in secret, which is why—”

You leaned forward, watching him with amusement as he continued rambling, the words spilling out at an almost frantic pace.

It was endearing, the way he talked so much when he was nervous, and you weren’t sure if he was even aware of how much he was saying at this point.

“Spencer,” you interrupted gently, resting a hand over his. “Breathe.”

He blinked rapidly, as if suddenly realizing he hadn’t taken a proper breath in minutes. “Right. Breathing. That’s—uh—important.”

His cheeks turned a shade of pink that rivaled the candy hearts Garcia had placed around the office. “What I—I mean, what I was trying to say is that I know Valentine’s Day is usually about, um, flowers and chocolates and not historical analysis, but I—uh—I wanted to give you something that—”

“That’s uniquely you?” you offered, smiling.

He exhaled, relieved. “Yes. Exactly.”

You took the card, running your fingers over the embossed edges. It was thoughtful, sweet, and—most importantly—Spencer. “I love it.”

Spencer’s face lit up in a way that made your heart stutter. But before either of you could say anything more, a loud whistle from the doorway made you both turn.

“Reid,” Morgan drawled, grinning as he sauntered in. “Did I just hear you giving a TED Talk on Valentine’s Day?”

Behind him, JJ and Emily exchanged knowing smirks, while Hotch simply raised an eyebrow in quiet amusement.

“Oh, he didn’t just give a TED Talk,” Garcia chimed in, appearing suddenly with her arms full of pink-wrapped candies. “Our resident genius just made the most adorably awkward Valentine’s confession in BAU history.”

Spencer groaned, burying his face in his hands. “I hate all of you.”

You laughed, nudging his shoulder. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Spencer.”

And despite his embarrassment, despite the teasing, despite the overwhelming urge to disappear into the floor, Spencer smiled. Because, for once, he didn’t entirely mind being the center of attention.

It was supposed to be simple. Once everyone clocked out, he’d find you outside, ask if you wanted to get dinner—something casual, no pressure. But as he stepped outside, he saw you before he could call your name.

And he saw the man standing next to you.

Saw the way you smiled at him. Saw the way he cupped your cheek before leaning in to kiss you.

Spencer stopped in his tracks, feeling his heart plummet to his stomach. The words he had rehearsed in his head over and over evaporated into nothing.

The man pulled away, and you hugged him before stepping into a car, leaving Spencer frozen where he stood.

“Well, that sucks,” Garcia’s voice cut in, startling him. He hadn’t even noticed her walking up beside him, arms crossed as she watched the same scene unfold.

He swallowed hard, trying to keep his expression neutral. “Who is he?”

Garcia tilted her head, looking at him like she was about to break bad news. “That’s her boyfriend. Aren’t they cute?”

Spencer felt something in his chest tighten, but he forced a small smile. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “They are.”

Garcia’s face softened. “Spence…”

But he was already turning back toward the parking lot, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Garcia.”

She sighed, watching him walk away, before muttering under her breath, “Okay..”

help this feels so ooc for him, i'm so used to writing cocky people.. i'm so sorry! but anyhow, likes, comments, & reposts are greatly appreciated!

[clementine-thedestroyer]

What about Raccoon! reader and bear! price. I think that would be a funny play on the usual prey hybrid reader.

Like this trash panda keeps leaving berries and cool junk outside Prices cave. He doesn't think the trash is as nice as you do but when he finally catches you and you have to try and explain Raccoon courting to him, he gets to decide if he wants to accept your offering or not!

(idk anything about Raccoon courtship btw I made that up💀)

I’m obsessed. I love this so much.

Maybe you’re bringing him what, in your eyes, isn’t even trash. Anything shiny, soft, or remotely interesting will catch your interest- one man’s trash is another man’s treasure and all that- and of course you want to share your greatest treasures with him.

So you start brining him your best finds as little gifts. The first thing you bring to him is an old disco ball ornament meant to dangle from a rearview mirror (it’s got a few of the reflective tiles missing, but they’re no great loss).

The second gift you bring is one of the reflective, crinkly cat toys that looks like little balls of tinsel (shiny and crinkly!!), and the third gift is a section of shiny copper pipe you found about to be thrown out.

You bring him other, smaller gifts too- those were just your favorites. You bring him some of the little minnows you snatch from the creek’s shallow banks and every pretty rock that catches your eye. If you don’t mind bugs, maybe you even bring him a butterfly with pretty wings or a shiny beetle to enjoy.

And all the while, John is convinced someone is fucking with him. Why is there a pile of 3 flopping, still alive and actively suffocating minnows in front of his den? What’s he even supposed to do with them? Eat them? They’re not even half the size of his pinky finger. Unsure of what to do, he ends up picking them up and taking them back to the water, perplexed by the situation.

But as more and more “surprises” of the like show up, he’s only getting more and more confused. Within a month, he’s found piles of junk in front of his send and he’s had to escort multiple sets of minnows and even a few frogs back to the stream. What’s he supposed to make of all this? What possible reason could someone have for leaving a broken pencil for him to find. Was there some sort of message?? Was that metal pipe supposed to be a threat???

So eventually he gets tired of being messed with and has a stakeout, hiding back in the underbrush and watching the entrance to his den as night falls, hoping to catch the perpetrator in the act.

He falls asleep on watch, only waking up at the sound of light, cautious footsteps near the entrance of his den.

He doesn’t hesitate. He knows this must be who’s been messing with him for the past few weeks.

He shoots out of the bushes, tackling you to the ground and ignoring your shrieks and squawks of protest as he wrestles you onto you back, pinning your arms down and glaring down at you.

“Alright. Jigs up. You had your fun messing around with me, but I’m tired of waking up to crap or half dead animals on my doorstep. Time to fess up.” He growls, looking at where he has your wrists pinned, noticing the mangled, bent metal fork in your hand.

Yep. It’s definitely been you.

“Christ.” He grumbles, plucking the fork from your hand, inspecting the twisted metal. “What the hell even is this? Where do you find this crap?? How much effort have you been putting into messing with me?”

“You don’t like it?” You say, your voice cracking.

John looks down at you, taking in the look of hurt in your eyes and the small, light grey and almost oval shaped ears sticking up from the top of your head.

He sighs, resigning himself. Of course you were a raccoon hybrid. He should’ve realized he was being courted… just the gifts and offerings of food didn’t quite line up with what he considered to be typical courting gifts.

He releases your wrists, sitting back on his heels to take his weight off you and taking a deep breath in.

“No… it’s… it’s fine. I love it…. Why don’t you come on inside.”

(Then like a week later after the two of you talk it out and he starts courting you back he just asks why the fish always had to be alive when you left them there and you just told him to prove that they were fresh)

[pawpels]

Adding on because I had a similar childhood:

Though my parents didn’t fully embrace it, my grandfather had a philosophy that went like this: “If it won’t kill them, and it won’t hurt anyone else, just let them do it.”

While I’m sure this wouldn’t work for kids who WANTED to do bad things, it was just fine for my sister and I, because it meant that we’d experience natural consequences instead of artificial ones.

If I wanted to skip dance class, we would talk it out, but ultimately I could choose to stay home if I was feeling too upset. It would just mean the next week I wouldn’t know part of the routine, and would have to work harder to catch up.

If I wanted to play rough, that was okay as long as it wouldn’t result in injury or permanent disfigurement. I didn’t like pain, so explaining exactly how I was likely to hurt myself usually did the trick.

One thing I noticed was some classmates weren’t allowed to make certain mundane choices for themselves. They couldn’t quit taking piano lessons even though they hated piano. There was no point to enforcing that kind of rule, and yet their parents wasted energy making them do something so minute.

There are up and downsides to this, by the way. I still have trouble forcing myself to do things I don’t like. I have issues with entry level jobs where supervisors get to make up inane rules that I’m expected to follow. I struggled in high school because I loved learning, but didn’t care about grades, so I would often get in arguments with teachers or skip assignments I thought were stupid.

“No rule that must be enforced by threat is legitimate” is great in a political sense, but it’s also something that you can apply to literally everything. It will get you in trouble sometimes, so just be careful and learn to pick your battle. Some of them are well worth fighting

I am exceptionally lucky in that my parents never hit me, grounded me, confiscated my things, banned me from my hobbies or threatened any of these actions to make me behave as a kid. as an adult it has made me realise how very very long a road most people have to traverse before they can take a statement like 'no rule that must be enforced by threat is legitimate' seriously.

[little-jana]

"Meant to Be"

Pairing: Spencer Reid x wife!reader

Genre: fluff

Words: 3.2k

Warnings: Brief mention of child abandonment, emotional themes, adoption, foster care

Summary: Spencer and his wife never planned on having kids just yet—but when they find an abandoned baby near the FBI headquarters, everything changes.

a/n: request by anon

The day had started out like any other. You and Spencer walked hand in hand through the streets of D.C., enjoying the crisp morning air before he had to head into work. Being married to an FBI agent meant cherishing moments like these—the quiet ones, the normal ones.

But then, as you passed by a quiet alley near the FBI headquarters, a soft, muffled cry stopped you both in your tracks.

Spencer stiffened beside you. His hand instinctively tightened around yours. "Did you hear that?"

You nodded, scanning the dimly lit space between two buildings. At first, there was nothing but dumpsters and scattered debris. But then, just barely visible near the wall, you saw it—a small baby carrier.

Your heart lurched.

“Spencer…” You whispered, already moving toward it.

He was right beside you as you knelt down. Inside the carrier was a tiny baby, no older than a few months. Their chubby cheeks were flushed pink from the cool morning air, and their big brown eyes blinked up at you in confusion.

A note was tucked beside them.

Spencer grabbed it, his hands trembling slightly as he read aloud. I’m sorry. I can’t take care of him.

That was all. No name, no details. Just a heartbreaking confession.

You swallowed hard, instinctively reaching out. The moment your fingers brushed against the baby’s soft blanket, he let out a tiny whimper, his tiny hands grasping at the air. Without thinking, you scooped him up, holding him close to your chest.

Spencer let out a shaky breath. “We need to call the police.”

You nodded, but your eyes were locked on the baby. He felt so small in your arms, so vulnerable. He had no idea he’d been abandoned—he just wanted warmth, comfort. Love.

Spencer made the call while you rocked the baby gently, whispering soothing words. When he looked up at you, something in his gaze softened.

You didn’t realize it at the time, but that was the moment everything changed.

---

A few hours later

The baby—who the doctors estimated to be around three months old—was in good health despite being left outside in the cold. You and Spencer stayed with him at the hospital, waiting for Child Protective Services to arrive.

You hadn’t put him down once.

Spencer watched you the entire time, his mind whirring. He had always imagined you holding a baby one day, but it was supposed to be later—years later. Yet here you were, cradling this tiny boy like you were meant to be his mother.

And Spencer felt something shift inside him.

“Do we know his name?” you asked the nurse, adjusting the blanket around the baby.

She shook her head. “Nothing was left with him. For now, the social worker is calling him ‘Baby Doe.’”

You frowned, looking down at him. “That doesn’t seem right. He deserves a name.”

Spencer hesitated for only a second before saying, “James.”

You blinked up at him in surprise.

“My mom used to read me The Turn of the Screw by Henry James,” he explained. “I always liked the name.”

You smiled. “James. I like it.”

The baby—James—yawned sleepily against your chest, and something inside Spencer clenched.

He wasn’t ready for kids.

But suddenly, he wasn’t so sure he could imagine letting this one go.

---

A few days later

Spencer came home late from work, exhausted and distracted. The case had been tough, but it wasn’t what was weighing on him.

It was James.

You had spent every spare second checking on him, calling social services, asking about his placement. You hadn’t said it out loud, but Spencer could see it in your eyes.

You wanted to keep him.

And the terrifying part?

Spencer wanted that too.

As soon as he stepped inside, he found you curled up on the couch, your phone clutched in your hands. You looked up at him with an unreadable expression.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, immediately alert.

You took a deep breath. “The social worker called. James’ birth mother doesn’t want him back. He’s being placed in the foster system.”

Spencer’s stomach twisted.

Foster care.

James was so small, so vulnerable. He deserved better than being shuffled between homes, never knowing where he belonged.

The words were out before Spencer could stop them.

“What if we take him?”

Your eyes widened. “Spencer…”

“I know we didn’t plan for this. And I know it’s fast, and crazy, and maybe completely irresponsible. But…” He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t want him to go into the system. And I don’t want to spend the rest of my life wondering what happened to him. We could do this. We should do this.”

You stared at him, searching his face. “Are you sure?”

Spencer let out a breathless laugh. “No. But when I see you holding him, when I think about him going to strangers instead of us… I know I can’t just walk away.”

Your lips trembled, and Spencer reached for your hands.

“Let’s foster him,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “And if—if things go well, maybe one day we can adopt him.”

Tears filled your eyes, and you nodded. “Okay.”

Spencer let out a shaky breath, pulling you into his arms. He wasn’t sure what the future held, but one thing was certain.

James was meant to be theirs.

---

Six months later

James had turned your world upside down.

Sleepless nights, endless bottles, diaper changes—it was nothing like the quiet, controlled life Spencer had envisioned. But he wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Because now, his days started with James’ giggles and ended with you rocking him to sleep.

Because every time James reached for Spencer with his chubby little hands, his heart ached in the best way.

Because Spencer had thought he wasn’t ready to be a father.

But he was.

And as he stood in the doorway, watching you hum softly as you cradled James against your chest, Spencer knew he had never been more certain of anything in his life.

He stepped forward, wrapping his arms around you from behind, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder.

“You were right,” he murmured.

You turned your head slightly, smiling. “About what?”

Spencer rested his chin on your shoulder, watching James sleep.

“About us being ready.” He swallowed thickly. “About him being ours.”

You reached up, lacing your fingers with his. “We should make it official, then.”

Spencer’s breath caught. “You mean…?”

“Let’s adopt him.”

A slow, disbelieving smile spread across his face. “Yeah?”

You turned in his arms, resting your forehead against his. “Yeah.”

Spencer kissed you then, slow and deep, pouring everything he felt into it.

James might not have been in their plans.

But he had been in their hearts all along.

And now, he was home.

[lovecla]

TBH ; LUKE HUGHES

PAIR ex-luke hughes x fem!reader, auston matthews x fem!reader

SUMMARY maybe luke hughes’ passion isn’t enough. he just doesn’t know about it, yet.

WORD COUNT 1.1k

WARNINGS suggestive, jealous luke, size kink, heavily inspired by the song ‘tbh’ by partynextdoor, lowkey toxic luke, mentions of sex.

FROM ME TO YOU listen, i know i have, like, one hundred and twenty things to write but this is one of my favorite songs and i just wanted to leave this here!!! this is something super short, messy and not at all my style, but i still wanted to do something with this song. i’d recommend reading this while listening to the song ;) as always, i love you and have a nice reading!

𐙚

HE COULD’VE swear he felt it when you entered the room.

It wouldn’t be easy to explain if he tried to, but with the way the hairs on his arms stood up when you stepped into the room, he knew he was screwed.

He was sitting on the couch across the room, with a couple of people standing in front of him, as he discussed with Curtis about something he now can’t seem to remember.

“Duude.” He heard Curtis calling him, and he nodded, his perfectly styled curls moving with his head.

“Yeah?” He answered, but he didn’t bother turning around to look at his teammate. No, he couldn’t. Not when you had just entered the room with no one other than the captain of the Toronto Maple Leafs, Auston Matthews.

Luke didn’t know what he was feeling, but he knew it wasn’t right. He was sitting somewhere angry and frustrated as he watched the way your body seemed to float towards Auston’s. The dress you had chosen for that night would probably be in his thanksgiving speech, because he was, indeed, thankful for the opportunity to see you wearing something like that: short, white, almost transparent with a huge slit in the middle, that left little to the imagination.

He didn’t even know why he was noticing you in the first place, since he remembers how he was the one who fucked everything up between the two of you, but fuck. He can’t really help it.

The way you’re laughing at the shit Matthews’s saying, the way you blush slightly under the warm lighting whenever he touches your waist or lower back. The way Luke can tell everyone thinks how much the two of you look good together.

And it infuriates him.

But now— now, you have finally noticed him. You were scanning the room with your eyes when you made eye contact with him, dropping your smile in a millisecond. He can see the way you gulp and hold Auston’s hand a bit tighter.

Luke watches as you force yourself to draw your attention back to the conversation happening in front of you, but he feels accomplished when he notices that, once in a while, you will look at him, for nothing more than a second.

Still.

He finishes the rest of his beer, feeling the bitter taste of it fill up his mouth. He wants to scream at himself to let you go, to stop staring at you like a fucking creep, to not let his mind wander through dangerous, dangerous memories.

Yet, he does none of these things.

He just watches the way your nipples pierced the dress you were wearing, hard and there for everyone to see. He licks his lips, remembering how happy he was when you’d told him you weren’t much of a bra type of girl.

You say something to Matthews before kissing his cheek and excusing yourself, walking towards what Luke assumed to be the bathroom.

“Man,” he hears Curtis, again. “She’s not yours anymore.”

And? He wants to ask. “I know.” Is all he says.

Knowing that you aren’t his anymore doesn't stop him from getting up and going after you, leaving the beer bottle on the table sitting in the corner before walking down the expensive hallway until he’s standing at the door.

“Luke, what—” he hears you asking, but he doesn’t say anything. He just walks inside the bathroom with you and closes the door behind him, hungrily eyeing your body, as he had been doing for the past few minutes.

“Y/n,” is what he says, and you have to pretend that hearing him say your name for the first time in months doesn’t affect you. Because it shouldn’t. “I miss you.”

“What the hell are you talking about, Luke?” You hear yourself asking— you’ve fantasized about this scenario several times before and you’re still not sure of what you’re supposed to do. “You can’t just say things like that. I’m with Auston now and God,” you put your right hand on your forehead. “If anyone sees us here, together, then—”

“I can see that you’re with him,” he scoffs. “It’s all over your face. The way you look at him makes me sick.”

“I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do about that,” you say, crossing your arms in front of your chest, not missing the way his eyes linger around your boobs for longer than they should. “Luke.”

“Does he know you used to belong to me?”

His question takes you by surprise, and you bite your lips, suppressing a frustrated moan. “If you let me end things with you because you didn’t want to make our relationship public, then why would I tell people about it? It was your choice not to.”

He knew you were right. And that made him even more upset.

“Then he doesn’t know about the things we did,” he whispers, standing tall in front of you, making you realize once again that he’s much larger than you, much bigger, much stronger. “He doesn’t know about how loud I could make you scream, how wet your pussy would get whenever you saw me, how you loved when I threw you around like you were nothing but a toy.”

“Luke—” you sigh, but he shakes his head, while pressing his thumb against your bottom lip. His touch burned.

“How when we first started dating you’d cry because you were so worried that I wouldn’t fit,” he chuckles, like the memory itself is enough to make him laugh. “And how you cried even more when I made it fit, when I forced my cock inside that tight, little cunt of yours.”

“Luke, stop,” you mumble against his finger. “You… you shouldn’t be telling me this. We’re— we’re over.”

“No, Y/n, we aren’t,” he says, kissing your cheek, gently. “I miss it when you’d lay with me, body so tiny next to mine it makes me hard just thinking about it,” he presses his finger harder against you. “I miss it, Y/n.”

You sigh, closing your eyes.

“So, tell me, baby, are you with me?”

You shake your head.

“No,” you say, even if you don’t want to. “Not anymore.”

“Y/n, fuck. I loved you.” He reasons, and you open your eyes, just to frown at him.

“Your passion, or whatever you want to call it, isn’t enough,” you answer, stepping away from his touch. “You don’t have what I need.”

“Liar.”

“Maybe,” you whisper. “But that’s just how life is.”

“You’re not being honest with yourself, Y/n, you want me.” He argues, scrunching his curls in his hands.

“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?” You ask, raising your eyebrow before turning around and leaving the room.

Leaving Luke and your history with him behind.

if you want more… ! (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)

LUKE HUGHES MASTERLIST.

NHL MASTERLIST.

[ladiesworldsblog]

You know, the truth hurts sometimes. And it definitely does, if you doesn’t like what you hear, from a person you’re deeply in love with.

I’d lost my heart early to that gorgeous woman, I‘d known her for a while and we dated for a while. I always wanted more from her than she wanted from me. I saw the one and only woman of my life in her, she just saw a good friend in me.

We spent some time together even after she got married to one of my rivals. My heart was already broken, but I tried to enjoy to spent my time with her as much as possible. After some drinks I finally was courageous enough to talk to her like a real man. And I dared to ask her why she chose him over me.

She tried not to start laughing and replied:

„Do you really want me to explain it? Isn’t it so obvious? Don’t be silly… everyone in town seems to know, that you’re tiny down there. You haven’t really had a girlfriend before… and may I make a guess? You’re still a virgin, huh?“

I blushed and just gave her a shy and silent nodding.

„Cute. Would be nice to be the first one, sweetie, but I‘m just playing with the big boys. You know, what I mean, right?“ She gave me that sexy naughty look… it got me excited and she knew it, she could read it in my eyes. „You won’t believe it, how good his thick cocks feels inside of my tight pussy. You have no idea, how he stretches me out. He’s an amazing guy to fuck with.“

She kept eye-contact with me, while she took off her shoes. I thought that she might want to relax a bit and her feet may hurt a bit. But she had a naughty plan in her head. Suddenly I felt her feet touching my leg under the table… while she called the waiter to make another order. As he was getting close to our table and asked for our wish, her foot reaching my crotch… slowly caressing my dick through my pants.

He waiter was experienced enough to see in my face that I got an erection, but he was professional enough to say anything about it as well. He took our order and disappeared for a while. She was teasing me harder and harder in the meantime and as the drinks arrived, I couldn’t hold it back any longer. I came. Hard. I moaned and roared. It was so obvious what just happened here.

It felt so humiliating, I got all eyes on me, I felt degraded… I blushed. But she had her beautiest smile on her face and I must have looked so cute, she gave me a big wet kiss. I ordered an Uber to get her home safely and as we sat in the backseat, she pulled down her panties underneath her skirt and gave them to me. It had a wet spot on it and she smelled so lovely and adorable.

It was her way to say goodbye, the next week she was leaving with her newlywed husband to the states.

[muchosbesitos]

CANDY SHOP

horny and inexperienced, choso stumbles across a sex shop nearby. little did he know his purchase of a toy would include more than stellar customer service.

FEATURING: choso kamo x fem! sex store worker

CONTENTS: 18+ content, MDNI. non canon compliant/au, smut, use of a toy, sorta kinda public, orgasm denial, submissive choso, use of mistress

WORD COUNT: 1.2k

AUTHOR’S NOTE: i love pathetic men (ᵔᴥᵔ)

“welcome to arousal zone.”

you stood behind the counter with a playboy magazine in hand, chewing cherry flavored gum while haphazardly flipping through a couple of the pages. anything that helped pass the slow shift faster.

working at a sex store on the outskirts of tokyo hadn’t been exactly what you’d wrote down on your five year plan—but it paid the bills. once you removed the occasional frat boy that stumbled in buying an anal plug as a gag, the job wasn’t too bad.

you looked over to see the pale man stepping foot into the store—immediately looking out of his element. he gawked at the selection available at the front like a zoo exhibit, staring at anything and everything that he could take in before making his way further into the shop.

choso roamed the halls of the store like a lost puppy—staring at all the different toys outlining the shelves. cock rings. fluffy handcuffs. pocket puss- choso nearly cracked his neck with how fast he did a double take, eagerly placing the box in his hands. he began reading through it, sticking it under his arm when he finished.

along with a waterproof vibrator. until he realized.. he had no idea how any of this shit worked.

“excuse me,” he walked up to the counter with the two items in tow, meeting your bored expression when you looked up from the magazine.

“do you have any tips for any toys… or how they work?” he rubbed the back of his neck, a sheepish expression on his face at the question. you raised a brow, leaning across the counter. not missing the way his gaze went down to your chest.

“well it usually depends on what you’re into, but i can give you a hands-on demonstration if you’d like.”

which is how you found yourself locked in the cramped fitting room, rubbing your palm across the stranger’s hardening cock. “lemme see the toys you picked out,” you snagged the boxes up before eyeing each piece, deciding to unbox the vibrator.

“so this one has four modes—each one more intense than the last,” you explained, your fingers tracing the outline of his cock. you looked up from the manual to see him gulp, a devilish smile appearing on your lips. “don’t worry, i’ll take care of you.”

you flipped the switch on, the wand vibrating in your hand, “though i gotta say, you’re desperate. letting me do this and i don’t even know your name.” his cock visibly twitched the moment you pressed the tip against the tent in his pants.

“d’ya want to know my name?” the man asked through shaky breaths, his chest starting to heave. he unzipped his pants, lowering them down to his thighs before speaking up again, his cock leaking onto the patch of hair going up his stomach.

before you had the chance to respond, he quickly spoke up, “choso, my name’s choso.”

“choso,” you tested the name on your tongue, a moan leaving his lips when you did. you slowly started to move the vibrator against his hard cock, watching the man grow even more and more sensitive.

“more,” he looked over at you with big, pleading eyes that almost made you want to agree.

“try that again,” you clicked your tongue, pulling the vibrator away completely. you dragged your manicured nail down his happy trail, pulling away before you reached the trimmed patch of hair at the base.

choso racked his brain as he tried to figure out what you wanted to hear, deciding to go with the next best option, “give me more, please. i’ll do whatever you want me to do, accept whatever. just give me more.”

“that’s it, there you go,” you placed the vibrator against his shaft yet again, moving to the second level of intensity. your hands moved down to his sac, holding them in your palm before starting to gently move them in your hold.

“ngh-fuck!” choso was reduced to a puddled mess, gripping onto the ends of the dressing room bench. you switched over to the last level without much of a warning, feeling his thighs quiver underneath you.

he tried—he really did. try to think of anything else other than the impending orgasm. thought about the wretched smell wafting off his brother’s back. thought about the questionable things he’d encountered during his late night wanks. but to no avail.

it was shameful how quickly just a couple of your words and the vibrator had him this close.

"lemme cum," choso whined, his cock twitching with every buzz of the vibrator that jolted against his shaft. drop after drop of precum fell onto your hand as he approached his climax, his balls growing heavy.

"i don't know, you were being a little impatient there, baby. we talked about this," you cooed, cruelly pulling the vibrator away just right before he had the chance to cum. a loud whine left his lips, bucking his hips to try to get any friction. to try to get anything.

“p-please mistress. make me c-cum,” choso’s voice cracked, quickly correcting his mistake. you pressed the vibrator two times, lowering the intensity before pressing it against his sensitive cock. rubbing his own pre with the wand like lube.

“see what happens when you ask nicely,” you mused, leaning in and pressing an open-mouthed kiss on the side of his neck that had him shivering. gently suctioning the skin between your lips, leaving him with a purple-red reminder of your time together. “but fine, i promised to take care of you after all.”

choso came within seconds of you increasing the vibration against him again, a pathetic and desperate moan leaving his lips, “right there, mistress. right there, please please don’t stop.” rope after rope of cum landed over his pants and thighs, a couple droplets managing to land on your fingers.

his eyes were locked on the way you stuck your pointer in between your lips, watching intently as you swirled your tongue around it to collect every drop. it had him wondering what you’d do to his cock if given enough time. “leave a couple seconds after,” you broke his fantasy, getting up from your spot and setting the vibrator down.

discreetly leaving the dressing room like it was all a dirty secret. and as the post nut clarity started to hit—hard (almost nearly as hard as him after that sinful imagery), he started to feel like a dirty secret.

choso took a couple seconds to gather his breath, pulling his pants up and stuffing the vibrator back in its box before making his way over to the register.

"come again soon," he didn’t miss your innuendo, scrambling to pick up his bag as soon as the receipt printed. he left the store with his cheeks slightly flushed and his zipper down, a couple white stains marking the black material of his jeans.

about as subtle as a bull in a china shop.

you turned to look at the next customer in line, a balding middle aged man with a gold ring sparkling on his finger, “can i help you?”

"can i get the same service that he got?"

[syngularitysyn]

Caitlyn & Vi - apologies and trust

Caitlyn and Vi are very different, but they share a commitment to the same values: Honesty, loyalty and directness.

Caitlyn has felt like a misfit since she was a kid, not fitting in with the fakeness of Piltover high society. She resents her mother for not letting her see 'the real world', by which she means the Undercity. Caitlyn doesn't care about apologies either. People apologize to her multiple times and she doesn't even acknowledge it. Their actions have already spoken and that is more important than their words.

Vi explains how to earn her trust while tied up in Ambessa's tent: 1. Be honest 2. Be patient 3. Just shut the fuck up (actions > words)

Episode 7 breaks up the flow of the current timeline. The next conversation Vi has after talking to Ambessa is with Caitlyn. The subject of trust is immediately brought up. Vi doesn't trust Caitlyn, and for good reason. Caitlyn knows this and understands why. 'Can you blame me?' Vi asks, and Caitlyn remains silent, but her emotions are shown on her face; shame, guilt, regret, and anger (at herself) expressed in the explosive 'I KNOW!'.

1: Be honest. Vi doesn't trust Caitlyn anymore, and Caitlyn immediately leads with honesty, starting with the 'I know', agreeing with Vi that she let Ambessa and her hatred for Jinx poison her. She lowers her defenses and tells Vi exactly what happened with Jinx while Vi was unconscious. How Jinx only cared about Vi's safety and then surrendered.

2: Be patient Caitlyn then tells Vi Jinx is being held in the bunker while she decides what to do. That she was waiting for Vi to recover instead of acting on her own. She wants to be on the same page as Vi again, but they aren't yet.

3: Shut the fuck up Vi walks off after asking 'who decides who gets a second chance?', and Caitlyn shuts the fuck up, clenches her jaw, and lets Vi walk out. There is nothing she can say to fix things between them, action is needed.

Cait talks to Jinx and sends all the guards to the Hexgates so Vi can break Jinx out if she wants to (and potentially leave together with her sister). Vi chooses to put herself first for the first time in her life when she learns this.

This is how Caitlyn won Vi's trust in the first season as well. Trading her rifle (which she's had since she was young and the only protection she has from Silco's goons) for medicine to save Vi. Telling the Firelights to take her and let Vi go. Taking the hextech gemstone to the council with Vi and Ekko (which was the initial plan).

Caitlyn lets Vi take the lead and make the decisions, but does pause multiple times to slow things down. First to disclose she saw someone else, wanting there to be no secrets between them, which is met with 'I don't fucking care.' And again when she sees the bandage on Vi's side, not moving forward and hovering her hand over it in silent apology but also in question. Caitlyn is willing to address it now if Vi wants to. Vi then decides she doesn't by pulling Cait back in, saving that conversation for later if they survive the battle.

[pegasussomnus]

timber is bad for tim's character:

A. There is no real good reason to have him paired with Tim. He only appeared in six issues and none of his interactions with Tim gave us insight into who Tim was as a character or lead to any meaningful developments. The whole 'he represents the War Games era of Tim in terms of uncertainity' or 'his civilian life before losing his dad' that was used by the author, is just untrue as we never see Tim seriously appreciate his friendship like he does with say Ives, or the people at Brentwood as something that keeps him grounded or as a distraction from the hero life/normaly he needs nor do his interactions with Tim show said uncertainty like the struggle of balancing the civilian/hero life that we saw his above friends do. All of his appearances are either comic relief or a springboard/exposition for more important developments such as Tim's relationship with Darla.

There is also how he wasn't a close friend of Tim and more often than not, Tim was shown to not like him too much. At best they were casual friends and none of their interactions went beyond that. The nicest thing Tim said about him is that he "THINKS he's going to END UP LIKING" him not that he actually does so which at best shows Tim is willing to give him a shot.

At worst? Well

Yeah. The first panel is his first impression of him while the last three are the LAST interactions/mentions Tim has with him and occur after saying he 'thinks he's going to end up liking him'.

It makes no sense why Tim would even want to reconnect with him let alone date him. Tim's opinion of Bernard went from "I guess we can be friends but this guy is sus to "maybe he's not so bad and deserves a shot" to "nah screw this guy". It's telling we keep getting sold a false meta history of them being super close friends and have Bernard essentially replace Ives to try and sell the pairing.

B. Like it really doesn't do anything for Tim at all.

Bernard doesn't help Tim grow as a character, or even as a person relationship wise as Tim is still doing the same faults he did in past relationships with civilians not telling them he is Robin, keeping secrets, cutting dates/missing them, etc). but they are "resolved" by just making Bernard some ultra perfect guy who knows Tim's identity

Aka the resolution he had with Stephanie in terms of the civilian/hero life balance of having someone who knows both, so Tim is getting a balance he already had and not to mention you can't even say Tim progressed in this manner or learned from his mistakes as he never revealed his ID in the first place, so it requires no growth on his end) (never explained how he does, not to mention watering down Tim's competence in keeping his ID) so it's all moot.

Tim also doesn't progress in his civilian life at all. Like he lives on a boat and (it is said that Bernard helped motivate him to do this but never shown/explained at all and all we see is Bernard saying he likes it and the people there)? Like he doesn't even meaningfuly develop a connection with the people there aside from friendly neighbors at best. As an example There was this "subplot" of them being in danger of being evicted but Tim just doesn't care at all or do anything. Like why not use some of his wealth from his dad or something to like buy people's boats and resell them at a cheaper price so the people can stay?

The people on the boat don't even offer him a meaningful civilian connection as like I said he just doesn't connect with them and even then that civilian connection is kind of moot in the last issue when they all know his identity as Robin so that balance or finding a solution is rendered moot for the same reasons as above as he already found that balance with the Batfamily/YJ friends who know both aspects of his life and again he didn't even it reveal it to them.

Like what do they offer him? People to chill in a non-vigilante way? Like he can already do that with the Batfam/YJ and not to mention that as the series showed the Marina got involved in a lot of Robin related stuff because of Tim's ID, so it's also moot.

Another point is how Bernard for a 'relationship for Tim beyond Robin' really is a relationship where the substance largely comes from Robin. Like aside from Robin is how they got together which Bernard even states in issue 3, in the beginning of issue 7 when Bernard list why he likes Tim all the things he likes about him are reflective of his role as Robin. Like his whole trusting Tim to keep him safe, Tim being special, and Tim being his lucky charm, the examples he uses are of Tim saving him as Robin/being Robin.

And issue 7 also shows like I said above that what saves the relationship is Bernard knowing that Tim is Robin. Not to mention how he really only opens up to Tim/confides in him seriously when Tim is Robin as shown in issue 3 and 9. Hell in issue 3 when he talks about wanting to help Tim, knowing that he knows his ID, when he talks about Tim 'taking too much on his own and not asking for help and loosing himself or whatever' we know it's about Robin.

And issue 10 the grand saving moment for their relationship after the 'falling out' in issue 9 was Bernard saving the day in a Robin related mission and getting the ID reveal (but not really)

Issue 7 highlights how Tim really doesn't do anything for Bernard as Tim. Like all he does is tell him that his parents suck, he's great to make him feel better, and tell us a bunch of stuff about Bernard we've never seen before.....twice and given how the issue kept emphasizing this point (to the point where villains commented on it) and how over the top his parents/with Bernards heroic it felt generic and like the bare minimum and Tim felt like an exposition device.

Tim never really talks to him about his issues with his parents or actually substantially helps him as after Tim does the above it immediately cuts back to their relationship for cute moments. Like Bernard giving him the necklace isn't even connected to Tim 'helping' as he was gonna do that anyway.

Tim as a civilain is just the BF and the real substance comes from Robin (as it was a Robin related mission and Tim saving civilians as Bernard which lead/inspired Bernard trying to save his parents and oh look Robin once again is tied to their relationship)

TLDR: Bernard doesn't make sense as a pairing, doesn't do anything for Tim as a character nor fulfill the purpose he was supposedly brought back for

The mental gymnastics people do to hate timber should be studied under a microscope.

The fuck you mean he is bad bisexual rep because he is dating a man… and how does that makes him gay???? Have you ever talked to a bisexual person???

“Oh it makes less of his past relationships” how?? How?!? Is he not allowed to be infatuated with his current partner? Should he continue pining after his past relationships even tho he is dating someone else???

[jybyls]

Haunted feelings || T.C

Masterlist

Synopsis: Fear turned out to bring out hidden feelings. (Thanks @darkpoetdreamer for the idea)

Warnings: Fluff, strangers to friends (?) to friends to lovers, haunted house, bad writing, not proofread, I think that's all.

Words: 2.3k

- 📜🎧🍂 -

Sam, Chad, Tara, and you were sitting in the living room, bored to death. You had no ideas of what you could possibly do, so you were all just minding your business on your side. Well, I'm not really minding your own business. You kept glancing up at Tara every now and then.

You wanted to talk to her but you didn't know what about, it's not like you guys weren't friends, actually you guys were basically best friends but lately it's been oddly hard to act normal around her and you couldn't figure out why. Yes, you did not use your brain on that one.

"Guys !! I have plans !" Mindy exclaimed as she ran into the living room, almost slipping down. Y'all looked at her excited frame, wondering what she had in mind, "What, Mindy ? Wanna do a horror movie marathon ?" Chad mocked his twin sister, which only led to her giving him a dirty look. You slightly giggled at the scene in front, looking at Mindy to hear her answer.

"Don't say this. I might consider it." She said and that ended up with all of you screaming 'no' because you're sick and tired of watching the same horror movies Mindy propose, "No, please, let's not consider that as an option of a plan. What was your main idea ?" Tara spoke up, but your brain didn't listen.

It just went, 'blah, blah, blah, proper name, place name, background stuff..' Safe to say you're a simp. It didn't go unnoticed by Sam. Her older sister sense has been tingling toward you for a moment now.

She definitely knows something is up with her sister and you. She kept her suspicion to herself, tho.

"Will you all shut up and listen to me ? My plan is to visit a haunted house. Y'all are down, or are you too afraid to follow me ?" Mindy exclaimed with a teasing tone, taunting you to follow her in her amazing idea.

"If we don't agree to come with you, you won't go. You're too afraid to go by yourself, that's why you're asking us." Sam, more than calmly, explained her point, which was true, but the shorter twin would never admit it. "That's not the point ! Are you coming or what ?" She shouted, distracting you from Sam's words. You all laughed at her.

"You know what ? Fuck it." Tara said, "Where's that haunted house of yours, anyway ?" The younger Carpenter mocked her friend, not really believing that place existed. "It's down town." Mindy grimaced and Tara reciprocated it, "Very mature of you, girls." You sarcastically said before standing up to get your jacket. They watched you with a dumbfounded look on their face.

"Well ? We're going or not ?" You asked. The twin immediately smiled and screamed, "YES ! Let's go, bitches." And with that everyone is outside, walking to that haunted house. Chad and Mindy were in the front, arguing, Sam was right behind them, not even listening to their faded words, while Tara and you were awkwardly walking next to each other.

You quickly became friends when she moved to New York. You were going to the same college and had the same classes most of the time. You didn't know Tara's story, you didn't know what she experienced, well, at the beginning of your school year you didn't even know who was this Carpenter girl and why was everyone whispering stuff about her and her apparently psychotic sister.

You didn't really care, tho, you thought it wasn't your problem until one morning in your English class your teacher assigned the class for a group project and you got teamed up with Tara. Everyone's eyes were on both of you, but again, you didn't care. You didn't know her, how could you judge her ?

By the end of this class, you came to the conclusion that you liked her. She wasn't mean, like students said. She was actually sweet. She did come up strong at first, but how could you blame her when the whole world wouldn't listen to her until she had nothing left to say ? Well, you couldn't.

You couldn't blame her for anything. And you felt like that when you just met her, so it's safe to say that now that you're down baf for her, it made it impossible to blame her.

Even with her trauma and her sister's advices for some reasons she trusted you. She quickly opened up to you and talked about what happened to her in Wosboro. She talked about Ambet, her sister, her parents, everything. You know everything about her, and you took care of that information. Obviously, you trusted her equally.

You told her everything she needed and wanted to know about you. And ever since you never left each other's side. Eventually, Sam learned to appreciate you, and so did the twins. Oddly enough, everyone agreed with Tara when she suggested that she should be part of the group.

It's been three mot hs now that you're part of the group, and they can all easily say that they like you a lot. You're trusted, and your company is always more than welcome.

You've currently all arrived at the so-called haunted house, holding you phones up with the flash lights on because of the darkness inside. Tara and you stayed close to each other, Sam was behind the two of you while Chad and Mindy were walking to the front, but they quickly backed up with a jump once they heard a noise.

"Did you hear that ?!" Minday whispered-yelled to all of you with a hint of dramatist, "Yes, I fucking did ! What was that ?" Her brother answered with the same tone. "It's the floor." The short brunette rolled her eyes at their dramatist, "It's cracking." You continued, slightly laughing at their reactions.

They huffed, "Yeah. No, yeah, we knew. We were trying to scare you guys." The boy answered with fake confidence, trying to stand taller. "Sure." Sam tried to hold back her mocking smile. You and Tara weren't has strong tho, not only were you mockingly smiling but also directly laughing at them, shamelessly making fun of their sudden fear.

The twins rolled their eyes, huffing again but eventually gave up. They knew they couldn't win with Tara as an enemy. The brunette might be small, but God knows she can and will bite back. With no mercy whatsoever.

You all walked, trying to call in any spirit, but obviously, nothing happened. The scariest thing you saw was a drawing of penis probably made by some teenage boys who found this place before you. The twins kept getting scared by random noises, and they also kept claiming not to be, which was quite ridiculous but strangely funny. It gives Sam something else she can mock them about, and that's enough to make this woman content.

Midnight suddenly hit your watch. You wanted to go home. However, you didn't want to ruin everyone's fun, so you stayed quiet. You lazily follow your friends around. Your mind was far away, thinking about a thousand different things but mostly one thing. Actually, one person. Your best friend, Tara Carpenter. This girl has been haunting all your thoughts.

At first you believed it was nothing, 'It's just because she's my new best friend. That's why I'm always thinking about her.' You told yourself, trying to get some sort of reassurance even tho you knew you were lying to yourself.

Because you knew damn well you're not supposed to think about what your best friend's lips taste like, neither are you supposed to think about her hands on your body and yours on hers. But since you didn't want to ruin your friendship with her, you closed your mouth.

Whenever you felt like telling her she looked pretty, you didn't. Or you'd just say something like, 'cool outfit' or 'cute haircut', when in reality you wish you could tell her how stunning she looks, how you can barely brung yourself to believe that she's real because of her beauty. You wanted to ramble about how much you loved her freckles, how you wanted to kiss every single one of them.

But you couldn't. That was the best you could do. Small, furtive compliments. You were to fucking scared to say too much and risking making her uncomfortable. Or worst disgusted by you. That'd be the end of your world. And your world resolve around her so it's easy to say that if she rejects you in any way you'd be a heartbroken mess.

Little did you know that the girl you were crazy about was head over heals for you. She wouldn't admit it to anyone, she barely even admitted to herself to began with but damn was she down bad for you.

She didn't want to say anything by fear of ruining your friendship. You were so dear to her she would never forgive herself for losing you. So instead of trying any kind of move on you she decided to stay quiet and cherish every second she gets to spend with you.

"Can we head back home or do you still want to walk around like idiots ?" Sam spoke up, clearly tired of this little adventure. You immediately nodded, "Yes, let's go home. I'm getting tired of this." Tara followed you, "Yeah, we're going home." Mindy whined however she agreed.

"Alright, alright. Let's go home. This place's a dump anyway." Chad led the way out of the building, Mindy on the other was terribly disappointed. She wanted to see a ghost or any spirit so badly but nothing happened. Sad for her, but good for all of you because it meant you could head home with a quiet Mindy.

The walk back home was full of teasing against the upset girl who kept huffing and rolling her eyes. You and Tara didn't participate much to the teasing since you shared earplugs with your shared playlist blasting in your ears. To make sure the earplugs wouldn't fall you stayed close to each other, your fingers brushing against one another. Your heartbeat went faster as you hardly blushed, thanks to the darkness it wasn't visible to anyone.

You hesitated for a moment before taking all your courage and interviewing your pinky with hers. You were about to pull away but she was faster to react, squeezing your pinky with hers. You looked down at your hand, a shy smile appeared on your face. You bit your inside cheek, trying to suppress your smile as you looked in front of you.

Beside you Tara was shamelessly smiling, evidently happy about what just happened. Neither of you spoke a word, the simple yet loving gesture meant more than anything.

The older Carpenter had a suspicious look on her face when she saw you and her sister hurrying upstairs the second everyone got home. She trusted you enough not to worry about anything, but her older sister instinct was hitting like crazy. She knew something was going to happen in this room. And she wasn't wrong.

You closed the door behind you as Tara connected her phone to her speaker, soft music was playing in her room. You sat on the chair of her desk while she sat on her bed. For a short time neither of you spoke, enjoying the calm music until Tara broke the slight awkwardness of this moment. "I think we need to talk." Her tone was eripus which cause you to panicked, "What-? What about ?" You faintly stuttered, your eyes widened a little bit. "About what happened earlier." She knew she was making you panick and this brat was savouring it.

You were overthinking like crazy, 'Did she just held my pinky by politeness ?', 'Did I make her uncomfortable ?', 'Oh my god. Did I just loose my best friend ?' Were one of the few questions that went through your brain when she mentioned what happened some minutes ago.

You shakingly breathed out, "What about it ?" You anxiously fidgeted with your rings, waiting for her answer but your mouth had other plans. "Did you not like it ? I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I really didn't mean to. It's the last I ever want to do. I love you too much for that."

Fuck.

Maybe you should learn to think before speaking in anxious situations. You both froze at your final words. You tried to speak again but nothing came out of your mouth. Oh, you definitely screwed it.

"You love me ? Like love me, love me ?" Tara asked but again you couldn't find any words to answer so you just nodded. She was dumbfounded. She didn't know how to react. She dreamt of this moment but never expected it to actually occur.

A long silence came between you, even the music couldn't make the situation less awkward. You were so incredibly ashame. You felt like you were burning. You finally found some words, "I should go. I'm sorry." You stood up however it wasn't in Tara's plan to let you go anytime soon. "No, no. Sit back down." Her tone was enough to make you melt. You listened without thinking twice, sitting back down on your chair.

The brunette shook her head and tapped the empty place next to her on her bed, quietly telling to sit next to her. You understood her command and moved to sit next to her.

As soon as you were next to her, her hand found yours. "You didn't make it uncomfortable. Yes, I liked it. And I love you too." She gently whispered, her soft smiled grew on her face, "Like love me, love me ?" You murmured, you barely had the strength to find your voice. The whole thing was unbelievable.

Tara chuckled then nodded, "Like, love you, love you." She nudged your shoulder which caused you to follow her chuckle. "How long have you liked me for ?" You quietly asked, "For too long. So what do you say we stop waiting, hm ?" She smirked as she looked at you. You instantly nodded, "Yeah, that sounds great." You smiled, squeezing her hand.

Waiting this long was worth it, you're finally with the one you love.

- 📜🎧🍂 -

A/n: Rushed end because I'm tired. This was supposed to be a Halloween fic- my bad lol. Have a good day/night. I hope you forgive me for how bad this is. Love y'all <3

[cuubism]

this instagram reel made me think so strongly of a human AU viktor that I had to write a little ficlet about it

--

Normally, the fact that Jayce is such a light sleeper is a problem. Being easily awoken by any rain, wind, traffic, Cait traipsing in at midnight after going to see Vi, his own anxious thoughts--it's not beneficial to his sanity. Today, though. Today, he's grateful for it, because it means he wakes up at 4am when his phone buzzes with two Snap messages in quick succession.

Blearily, he opens the app, squinting against the bright light of the screen. There are really only two people in the world who send him snaps, and Cait is asleep in the other room of their shared apartment. Which means it's Viktor.

It takes him a second to even comprehend what he's seeing.

Viktor seems to be reclining in a hospital bed, shirt open over his bare chest which is covered with various wires stuck to the skin, an IV in the back of his hand and a heart monitor clipped to his finger. Despite all this, he's throwing up a peace sign with his free hand and the look he's giving the camera is downright sultry, his dark undereye circles almost giving the impression of a smoky eye.

I lived, bitch, the text over the photo says.

Jayce rapidly taps through to the next one.

Similar photo, but now the text reads, It's giving Consumption core, whatever the fuck that means.

It doesn't sound much like Viktor but hopefully that means someone's there with him, even if they're just taking photos instead of, you know, helping.

Nevertheless, Jayce vaults out of bed, pulling on the nearest clothes and grabbing his keys and-- because Viktor is sick or hurt or having a flare up or God knows what-- rushing out of his bedroom.

He's scrambling so much that he trips over the rug in the living room and goes down, hitting a side table with his shoulder and knocking the lamp on it onto the floor with a clatter. Fuck. He pushes himself to his feet again and--

The light in Cait's room goes on. Vi opens the door, rubbing her eyes. "What the fuck, man."

"Sorry," Jayce says, abandoning the fallen table in favor of shoving his feet into his shoes. "I gotta go, Viktor's in the hospital and--"

"What?" Cait emerges behind Vi. "Is he okay?"

"I think so? He sent me a snap so--"

Vi picks up Jayce's phone from where it's fallen to the floor and studies the picture. "Sounds like Jinx is with him." She tilts her head. "Kind of a good photo. Hot."

"Vi." Cait takes the phone and gives it back to Jayce. "Do you want me to come with you?"

"No, he wouldn't want everyone crowding." Viktor hadn't even specifically asked Jayce to come but like hell is he not going to. "I gotta-- I need to go--"

"Alright, be safe," Cait says, and Jayce is already rushing out the door.

While on the bus to the hospital, he texts Viktor directly. Are you okay??

The singularity is near, Jayce, Viktor writes back. I'm ever closer to transcending biology. I am composed of so many wires now; soon they will replace my veins entirely.

Jayce can't tell if the fact that he's typing in coherent sentences means he's okay or if the fact he's expounding on futurology at four in the morning from a hospital bed means he's not okay.

I like you not composed of wires, he replies.

Too late, Viktor says. I did try to explain to them that this is normal but they insisted on all of the wires.

Pretty sure it's not *normal*, Jayce says.

On the plus side, this hospital isn't stingy with the good drugs.

Jesus Christ. That explains the philosophizing.

Excuse you, I can do it perfectly well sober.

Should have brought you your Fuller novel the way people bring stuffed animals to the hospital. You could hold it for comfort while you fall asleep.

You are coming? says Viktor.

Yeah, Jayce says, of course I'm coming.

~

Technically, Jayce is Viktor's emergency contact, but there's still been issues getting in to see him in the past since Jayce is "not family." But apparently, Viktor had Jinx tell the hospital front staff that he was allowed in, because this time they direct him right to Viktor's room when he arrives.

Viktor is sitting up in bed when he gets there, indeed attached to a lot of wires, though a nurse is taking some of them off so they must have finished some tests. This is a different hospital bed, an actual room rather than the temporary ER situation he seemed to have been in in the photo before, which is not a good sign, though at least it hopefully means Viktor will be discouraged from leaving before its safe for him to do so.

The nurse passes Jayce in the doorway as she leaves, and Viktor turns to him, offering a wan smile. He looks tired, but then, he always looks tired lately.

Jinx is indeed there, perched on the end of the bed like a gargoyle. She waves at Jayce. "See, I told you my messages would get him to come."

"Some messages," Jayce says, sitting in the chair by Viktor's bed. Viktor looks at him curiously, and Jayce hands over his phone.

Viktor studies the snaps, and rubs his forehead tiredly. "Jinx, I asked you to text Jayce, not send hospital boudoir, or whatever this is." He peers closer at the messages. "Hm. They are good photos, though."

"Told ya."

"Viktor. Are you okay?" Jayce asks, pocketing his phone again. He takes Viktor's hand between both of his own, rubbing his knuckles.

"Just a flare up," Viktor says. Sure, Jayce thinks, 'just.' "Truthfully--do not gloat--I've been up too late and I got dehydrated, and I'm sure that exacerbated things."

"We were on a roll," Jinx complains. "There's no time for sleep when you're in the zone."

"Hm, until there suddenly is," Viktor says brightly. "I am okay, Jayce, truly."

"Alright. I was worried." And, carefully, he lifts Viktor's hand to his lips and kisses his knuckles.

This thing between them--it's still new and tentative. More tentative from Jayce's end, really, he's always worried about mucking it up. But he tries to remind himself that nothing's really changed, they're still the same friends that they've always been. They just... do other stuff, too.

Well, and Jinx is now sending him photos of Viktor looking like the star of a vampire romance film.

"I'm going to get snacks," Jinx declares unsubtly, climbing off the bed and heading for the door.

"The vending machine has Taki's," Viktor calls helpfully as she leaves.

"How do you know that?" Jayce asks.

"I've been here before."

Of course.

Jayce sighs, pressing his forehead to their joined hands.

"You know," Viktor says, "if you were not able to bring me a book to cuddle. Am I allowed a you to cuddle?"

"I'm pretty sure that's against the rules."

"Meh, rules," Viktor says, dismissively. "What will they do, kick me out?"

"Kick me out," Jayce says.

"They won't," Viktor says, with such certainty that Jayce somehow believes him.

So he climbs into the hospital bed beside Viktor, arranging him carefully around all the wires and connections. Viktor curls into his side, resting his head on Jayce's shoulder.

"Thank you for coming," Viktor murmurs.

"Of course." Jayce can't imagine not coming as soon as he got that message. Even if Viktor thinks it's all unremarkable and normal. Viktor being in pain is never not going to make him drop everything and run. Even if that means he has to do a hell of a lot of running.

"You know," Viktor says. "The future of disembodied cloud consciousness does have a shortcoming."

"Oh, yeah? Only one?"

Viktor tsks, poking his arm. "It occurs to me that without a body it would be difficult to appreciate my personal furnace here."

Jayce squeezes him tighter. "Maybe your future disembodied consciousness will just have to have a temperature sensor. Might as well give it a pressure sensor too... oh wait, I think we might be circling back around to a body..."

"Perhaps it is not all bad to have a body," Viktor sighs. "Only mostly."

"Only mostly," Jayce agrees, kissing the top of his head.

--

two books referenced obliquely in this:

The Singularity is Near by Ray Kurzweil

Operating Manual for Spaceship Earth by R Buckminster Fuller

I think Viktor would be into them.

[stringofswineteeth]

I wasn't going to respond because I wasn't confident in my previous response so didn't that adding on to whatever response anyone had was going to be helpful, wasn't much to add that would be worth disagreeing with whoever responds, they'd have it handled.

I'm responding because I don't think your addition is worth disagreeing with. But, you said you can't wrap your head around it, so I am going to explain my concerns because I think they're important to understand.

There ARE people impersonating legitimate researchers right now for nefarious purposes. And it's not about it not being the "perfect time" it is about it being outright terrifying time, where I'm not even convinced getting gender related healthcare from verifiable organizations is safe. This isn't something I'd advocate against doing because there's a lot of complexities to personal situations and everyone must take calculated risks.

There's plenty of links I wouldn't trust and risks I wouldn't take that I wouldn't get in the way of others' decisions surrounding, at least without verifying that it is ONLY dangerous.

Basically, I don't think my response should've been what it was, but I also think it is worth considering why I would respond that way. The level of danger related to all things being openly queer, especially getting entered into a database as such, is unprecedented in my lifetime, not just imperfect. On top of that, the people involved are very young, and the economic situation might encourage making rash decisions when money is involved. Also ig worth noting that the dangers of unknown links have only grown.

Again, I think I probably should've minded my own business, or spoken in less definite terms, especially if I'm not willing to do research into the organization I am concerned about or click links provided. I also think what I was advocating for, hiding, can be damaging because part of the goal is not just to kill us, but also to make those of us who remain invisible, and I hadn't thought through the implications of that.

I'm editing in an addition because I'd rather be done with this, but I am still thinking about it. All the above that I said holds true, but I don't feel right about leaving it there. Yes, we need to be loud and make sure our voices and history is not erased. At the same time, it is extremely important to be aware of the risks you are taking and make your choices very intentionally. If you have investigated this source and have decided they are trustworthy and contributing to their study is important enough that it is worth the risk, absolutely be brave and go forward with that. I don't want your voice erased, I just don't want you to put yourself in danger that isn't balanced out by the good it does. please be extremely careful. I wouldn't feel okay about leaving this up without really making that point clear. Especially under unverified links to the same type of content we KNOW is being imitated by people who wish us harm.

I am not encouraging you to roll over, I am encouraging you to tread extremely carefully while acknowledging that there are some risks worth taking. It is up to you to decide what those are.

Researchers at the Lyda Hill Institute for Human Resilience with the University of Colorado Colorado Springs are recruiting LGBTQ+ teens (ages 15-18) and their caregivers for a study of an online group program.

Parents and teens can EACH earn up to $160 for their participation.

Click the link below to learn more!