#i always put a lot of thought into the ending so to know it feels this way to YOU I'LL CRY UR FEEDBACK IS LIKE THE ENTIRE GALAXY TO ME

[soundwavefucker69]

I don't share this often, but I am a trans man named Minty.

awhile after I got my legal name change, I asked my mom what she would have named me if I was a boy. she said Sebastian, and I groaned and complained that I should have asked before I got the name change, because I really DID like Sebastian now that it was occurring to me as a possible name and had ALWAYS liked Sebastian, even before my MCU days as a teenager. I had even considered it as an option but worried I'd end up looking like a weird fandom kid that had never let go of the MCU. if I had known that was the name my mother had picked for me, I would have had justification to choose it.

she asked me why I picked Minty then. i kinda paused in surprise because I thought it was obvious. and I was like. well. I wanted a name i felt like I could associate with childhood me.

after the first house we lived in was foreclosed on by the bank, we had to rent while my parents fixed their credit and swore never to get a fixer upper again. so we picked a nice house in our small town with only two real neighbors of note: an old lady, whose kids had forgotten about her, that lived way down the alley, around the point it turned from paved to dirt, the only house down there, who had a pomegranate tree in her ill-tended front yard, and a nice old lady next door that for some inexplicable reason had a miniature horse and a beautifully tended flower garden she had foolishly once planted mint in. she also had a very, very old fashioned rotary telephone. I mean the kind hardwired into the wall, of metal, with a speaker with a smooth wooden handle that sat neatly on top. not one of the plastic ones. the ones you see in old movies.

we loved these old ladies very much. the pomegranate lady was too old to keep up on her yard, so my brother and I would go with our dad to help weed whack and scrape up the dead leaves. we didn't offer too much, she was a proud sort, and couldn't pay us, but just enough to help out a little. and the mint in her flower garden lady loved it when we came by to say hi to her horse whose name I forget and loved to teach us how to garden.

she would send us home with mint. obviously. because when you have a mint infestation, well. it's pointless, but you gotta try anyway. and my mom would take that mint and make sun tea, just on the edge of not sweet enough, bc she was a bit of a crunchy mom, but not enough to reprimand me for sneaking a bit of sugar into my cup after to mix it up. (the sugar never dissolved right, especially after it was chilled, and i would always make a racket trying to get it to do so)

I told her I picked Minty because it ties me to my childhood. I didn't want to just cast it away. I wasn't Minty yet, but I also wouldn't be Minty without those days.

mom hasn't fully come around to me being trans. but she was quiet for a long, long time before she kind of whispered. I think I like Minty better than Sebastian. you should keep it.

my mom has always beat herself up over our childhood. she lacked a lot of stability in her upbringing and thought church was the way to go with my brother and I. unfortunately, she picked the wrong church. it was intensely traumatizing for us. we've had a lot of tough conversations about it. but I was able to tell her that day, you know Mom, I know you think you didn't do enough, but just know I'm not trans because you put me in a place where womanhood was miserable and I'm running from it. I don't remember much of the church, even though it consumed my life. what I do remember is my mother, the woman I may have complicated feelings towards, but have always admired and was always my standard for womanhood, being criticized by the other women for allowing me to read this book or that book and not bending or breaking under their rebukes for twenty years. I remember finding out as a twenty year old that I was the only "girl" in church that got the HPV vaccine, because you wanted to protect me, and not rely on chastity alone, like some sort of egotistical maniac who believed I'd always be your daughter, not a living breathing person that would make choices you didn't approve of as an adult, that shouldn't have to suffer for no reason from those choices. I remember you reading to my brother and I well into our teen years, using your acting talents that didn't blossom into the career you wanted to bring the characters in Peter and the Starcatchers to life. I remember listening to Lord of the Rings on cassette tape in the mini van, even though they said it was demonic when they found out. I remember the mom that let me be a tomboy. I remember the mom that would put on the Wind and the Willows on cassette from the library on rainy summer days and we'd listen to it and eat meatballs and spaghetti in the kitchen.

I told her, you're not a failure as a mother, and I didn't hate womanhood because of your example. it just didn't fit me. you made mistakes because you're human. I never thought of you as less than because you're a woman, and I didn't want to escape the cage you're thinking i wanted to escape.

my mom cried. I think that was the first time i made her cry and didn't feel bad about it.

anyways. not a soft memory, but it feels soft to me.

Tell me a soft memory

[whokilledsamara]

I love your Homicipher hc, they are so good! Would you be willing to do some N/ SFW for Mr. Chopped too? Like you did for some of the others? I understand if you don't want to or if it makes you uncomfortable, thank you anyway!

MR. CHOPPED N/SFW HCS

a hc list of Mr. Chopped x reader {an: SORRY GUYS IM POSTING MAINLY HCS RN,,, fics for me take a lot longer than usual so im just posting hcs to atleast get some reach.}

warnings! : smut, cunnilingus/blowjob, idk,,, cuckhold

{an: freaky shit,,,, like hes just a head so its kinda hard to fuck. did give him a section for IF he had a body.. MAINLY HIM GIVING HEAD,, i didnt rly know how to write this im sorry!! def will write more tho,,, im into him ngl}

SFW

what it would be like to be in a relationship with Mr. Chopped.

it would be relatively hard to be in a relationship with him for obvious reasons, though not impossible!

the thought of you makes him happy, and especially when you hold him.

he would have Mr. Silvair help most of the time. usually for the romantic aspects of things though.

while Mr. Silvair doesnt quite understand the relationship, he is glad to help.

being a talking head will obviously raise a few insecurities, so just reassure him that you indeed do love him! he gets his feelings hurt easily.

he absolutely loves when you play with his hair. if you put bows in it or decorate it, that will make it all the more special for him.

the first time he bit you when he was sleeping, had him crying for hours. he felt so bad that he harmed you in any way, and it took a while for him to "recover"

he loves kisses! he always shouts things like "Up, Up" or "Desire, Carry!" just so he can kiss you.

if you manage to get a hold of make up or something, he would absolutely love for you to do his makeup. {he likes to feel pretty}

he is a very sensitive boy, also a crybaby. how cuuuttteee...

if Mr. Silvair gives him a body, {ignore that one ending... we dont talk about it} then he wpuld be even more excited to see you.

the moment he gets a body would mean so many hugs and affection as a thank you for saving him.

he gets picked on a lot by the others so he usually tries his best to come to you.

NSFW

sex...?

sex is definitely a hard concept with him.

while yes, it is possible, just not in the way intended.

you could see him more as a pure object for your pleasure honestly, and he wants that.

whether you are amab or afab, he is perfect for the situation.

ive seen this referenced by another writer, but he would be like a "rose toy" or a "fleshlight" as people call it.

its a secret pleasure to watch you go at it with someone else. {ex: Mr. Silvair or someone.}

if he is gifted a body though, he definitely will pay you back for saving him in the first place.

personally he would be a soft and sensual lover with his new body, rarely going rough unless specifically asked to.

he is more of a giving top. definitely not dominant but is a top. he cares more about your pleasure than his. though, he does get all giddy when you wish to go down on his or something.

he is open to literally anything you want, he would have very few limitations on what he would do, but everything is open for discussion.

again, definitely either wants to watch you have sex with someone else, OR wants someone else to watch you and him go at it. {he would prefer Silvair.}

he definitely likes when you pull his hair or use him. will be submissive sometimes.

he is the type to cry during sex...

omfmg i love him sm

{ made by @whokilledsamara }

[leaentries]

some more nico with his pregnant wife!

➛ has a routine where every night before he sleeps he has to use one of those mini ultrasound machines to listen to the baby’s heartbeat. even if he’s in a roadie, you bet your ass he’s calling you so you can play it over the phone. he’ll just lay back in his bed, phone up to his ear or headphones on and just listen with a smile playing on his face. it comforts him hearing the strong, rhythmic beat. it’s his way of knowing you and the baby are safe.

➛ always talks to the baby! it’s one of his favorite things to do, especially when you first wake up. nine times out of ten, you’ll wake up to nico softly kissing your belly while murmuring sweet swiss-german to your unborn child. bonus, there’s often times when you’ll be reading or scrolling through your phone and nico is having his daily chats with the baby, and he just leans his cheek onto your swollen belly and gazes up at you. his big brown eyes are all full of love and adoration while he just watches your face while you read.

➛ he also is always touching your belly or body in some way when you’re pregnant. nico was very protective of you in the beginning, but now that you’re carrying his baby? dial it up about 100 notches. needs that reassurance that you’re okay and that you’re safe in his arms. very ‘caveman’ of him, but his body literally aches if he feels like he can’t be there for you. you and the baby are his lifeline, his world, and he would do anything to make sure that you’re both happy and taken care of. when you’re in public, his hand is against your back or on your hip. he’ll even keep his hand resting comfortably on your belly. it helps him feel like he’s protecting them. at home he’s much more unabashed about touching you. both his hands are splayed over your stomach almost at all times. if you’re cooking? he’s holding your bump. your cuddling on the couch? he’s holding your bump. your just standing up somewhere on your phone? you guessed it! he’s holding your bump.

➛ nico is also very in tune with your body and mind. he wants to be able to take care of you in the best way possible and make sure that you’re happy and content. don’t get me wrong, he loves making sure the baby is happy and healthy, but you’re his wife, his girl, and he’s gonna put your well being above all else. he’s the one whose texting or calling you every chance he gets when he’s not there. even if it’s just to hear your voice. nico can usually tell by your tone whether you’re feeling okay or not. if he’s at practice and he calls you during a break, he’ll know that because you answered the phone slightly different than normal that something’s off. and when he does find out you’re uncomfortable or upset about something, he’s racing to soothe your needs and fix it. nico hates seeing you unhappy and he’ll go to ends of the earth and back again if it means he gets to see you smile.

+ this turned out a lot longer than i anticipated, but i still have more thoughts if yall want more! also my inbox is open for your nico thoughts!

[draconeko]

I just arrived and I apologize in advance if I write a lot of text but omg I like to explain what's on my mind even if there's no need @asperanna @jonksi @onionowt @nanomii @rainbigbrain @ejsuperstar @ebi-skycotl ( You don't have to read my ramblings but I put the tags anyway )

Pluto is a mix of orange, skrunkly and smol. The kind of cat that I would totally hold in my hands but end up with a bitten finger. They are funny, they talk a lot and I find them very authentic, the kind that you imagine running energetically around you and their motivation rubs off on you, when I met them I thought they were more chill but I never felt disappointed for being wrong

Jojo/Kitty/Catofaurora I would say is a mix of Loaf and skrunkly, she is very funny, she makes you feel welcome, she is understanding and her humor always makes me laugh, she always has some joke to make about some random post. You can tell she has a good heart, that's why she is a loaf to me, I wouldn't be here if she hadn't found me.

Onion, nanomii and Rain were definitely (maybe still are) Tux, but now that I've interacted with them they're more of a mix of Tux and other cats

Regarding Rain, I agree with Pluto, they're totally a cloud, they're chill, they're calming and friendly, probably introverted like most of us, but they're the perfect person to talk to when you have an anxious mind.

Onion is a shorthair! Outside of admiration, I always remember the post that talked about their studies, I've always perceived them as someone who has worked very hard but is unable to notice how much their effort has paid off. As a person they seem very soft to me, maybe that's why the hug, must protect?

Nano is smol, we're both too anxious to even talk, we probably want to but we don't know how, if you read this nano, I appreciate you just for leaving little messages on rbs

EJ would say they're smol too, maybe smol creature? they are right in the middle where they are not chill enough to be a cloud, but not chaotic enough to be orange or skrunkly. It's a balance that I find very curious. I can't describe this with cats but I find them very full of passion, I admire people who are passionate about the things they like (even if it's just a hyperfixation). Basically a person that makes me very curious but I'm not sure how to interact

Ebi, Ebi is Loaf and shorthair, they makes me feel cuteness aggression, very soft, very gentle, a good listener not only to friends but to total strangers, sometimes very altruistic too. It's a surprise that there's so much evil for their ocs in their heart, I can expect it from Ari, from pluto, bohap or aria, but ebi… Anyway I still remember what they wrote when thet made the drawing of the deer of the nine colors, I think it's something that totally stuck in my memory and I don't know why.

I hope I haven't forgotten anyone, I'm sure I can assign a cat to some other mutuals but right now my mind isn't bringing them up.

WHAT KINDA CAT ARE YOUR MUTUALS

I REALLY WANNA SIT HERE AMD GO THROUGH TAGGING EVERYONE BUT I HAVE TO GO TO BED NOW SO I’LL DO SO TOMORROW!!!

[adimouze]

post-las vegas WDC max/daniel, rated M. ~1300 words. @girlsdads mentioned something about a lil bit of LL hating in a fic so. I did a lil bit of LL hating too.

-

A face floats into Max’s field of vision probably three hours into the fifth different party Max had been shepherded to since the race ended. He’s about ninety-percent sure he’s still in Las Vegas. He blinks blearily at it, hoping at least it’s pretty enough to look at. It has been a while since. Since.

Liam Lawson blinks back. Not who he was expecting. Gross. 

“Max,” he says, sounding too sober for whatever time it is. The club is loud but Max can still unfortunately hear him. “Are you okay?”

Max attempts a sweeping gesture, he’s carrying a glass of something and it hits someone’s back, making Max drop it with a smash. Liam cringes, looking like he’s about to complain. “This is my party, mate,” Max says, cutting off whatever Liam was going to say. “I’m fucking great.”

“Christian just left,” Liam says, and Max kind of hates how he talks but what can you do. Maybe he just doesn’t like Liam. “I think there’s another party happening a few blocks from now, do you want to join me?”

If Christian left that means Max can leave without theoretically offending anybody, even though it is his party. Half of the people around him don’t seem like people he knows anyway. “Nah man, you go on ahead, I’ll head back to the hotel –”

“Oh then I’ll head back with you,” Liam’s probably the most cheerful he’s been since Max met him. “Yuki scored and left me here.” 

Pity isn’t something Max feels often, but he does feel a bit of pity now. In his first year he was never left alone in clubs, either Carlos or Daniel were always there making sure they were around to get him back to wherever before they took someone home or to their hotel rooms. More often it was Daniel, and more often Daniel didn’t take anyone home, because they were sharing a room and more often it was just fun to watch onboards together, side by side. 

No one else but them. 

Then again, Max was a teenager in his first year and Liam’s twenty-two. He wouldn’t need babysitting. 

“Alright,” Max isn’t sure where he is. He doesn’t know how to ask Liam without sounding like an absolute idiot. 

“I have a car waiting,” Liam adds, after Max stared off into the distance for a few seconds, willing someone to appear with a car. Maybe Max isn’t being as subtle as he thought he was. 

_____

Red Bull and VCARB drivers are often put up in the same hotel, usually the standard room but Helmut had finangled him a penthouse upgrade on Thursday, telling Max that he deserved a proper room to party in, like Max was going to bring home an orgy. 

He’s pretty sure Liam couldn’t possibly have gotten a penthouse upgrade too. He’s sure hotels only have one penthouse? He’s sure. If he was less drunk he would be surer. But Liam makes no move to push any buttons. 

“Mind if I come up for a nightcap?” Liam asks, smiling. This is the most Max has seen him smile ever since he got Daniel…ever since Daniel left and he jumped in the car. Max does not want him to come up for a nightcap but Max is feeling generous tonight. 

“Sure, why not.” Someone had spilled what seems like a bottle of champagne on him at some point in the night and his shirt is sticking to him. He’s too tired to shower. Meh. It’ll be a problem for hungover Max tomorrow. 

The lift goes up insanely fast but still feels too slow for Max tonight. He’s WDC, four times WDC, he’s used to faster things, sue him. Liam is still staring at him. 

“Good driving tonight,” Max says, for want of anything better to do or say. He has no idea where Liam finished to be honest. 

“I finished 16,” Liam says flatly. Yikes. Well. 

The door dings open onto Max’s floor. And. 

Daniel’s sitting on the giant sectional of the penthouse living room. 

He looks gorgeous. Max wants to stare forever. He looks broad and good and tanned, his beard has filled in a lot more than when Max last saw him in Monaco, his hair thicker. The sweatshirt he’s wearing looks less oversized than usual, fitting his shoulders instead of drooping over them, and his trousers make his thighs look great. 

He’s smirking. He looks like a frat guy. He looks like one of those men from Victoria’s magazines that Max definitely didn’t jerk off over. 

Max is probably drooling, and Liam runs into him as he’s stepping out of the lift. 

“Oh sorry mate I – Daniel, hello.” Liam’s voice is a bit high. Confused. Probably scared. “Didn’t realize you were in Vegas. Red Bull didn’t…”

Daniel stands up and comes over. Max is still staring. Daniel moves like an apex predator and Liam’s just the runt of litter in this.  “Hey Liam. Well. Red Bull doesn’t own me anymore mate, do they? I can be wherever I want.”

He claps Liam on the shoulder in greeting then grabs Max’s limp hand. “Came to see my boy be the World Champion again.”

Liam’s probably saying something but Max doesn’t care, because Daniel’s pulling him in, arms going around Max, sticky shirt and all, and Max is going to swoon because Daniel smells good, good, good, their lips meeting after ages, Daniel’s lips and tongue the best, most refreshing thing Max has tasted all night. Someone’s moaning. 

It’s him. 

“Um…”

Liam’s still there. 

Max tries to pull back but Daniel’s got his hands on his ass, lifting, lifting, and Max’s legs going around him in response, and Daniel’s got them on the sofa in a second, Max perched on Daniel’s wide wide thighs without even separating their lips once. It’s the hottest thing Max has ever felt. He’s going to come just from the thought alone. 

“Liam,” Daniel’s saying, pulling back a few centimeters to give Max some breathing space. “I’m going to fuck my husband on this sofa right now, and he’s going to be screaming loud enough to be heard from the moon. So like,” he pops the k, and Max’s dick twitches, precome dripping into his underwear, “unless you want a front row seat to that for some reason, shouldn’t you be heading to bed?” 

“Husband?” Liam’s stuttering. “Excuse me? You can’t – Does Christian know? He’s going to be so mad at you, Max what the fuck –?”

“Get out,” Daniel says. Max has never heard him sound like that. “Now.” 

“I’m calling Christian,” Liam says as a parting shot. “He won’t – he’s not going to allow this.”

“Yeah you do that, mate,” Daniel rolls his eyes then squeezes Max’s ass harder. God, he’s so hot. Max feels insane. Husband husband husband. “What’s he going to do, fire me again?” 

The lift dings shut again. They’re blessedly alone. 

“Husband?” Max snorts, shivering as Daniel’s fingers undo his pant buttons. “Bit presumptuous of you, don’t you think?”

“The ring’s in the suitcase, baby,” Daniel says, smiling like a wolf, fingers curling around Max’s dick. Max grinds into the feeling, needing Daniel inside him right now. This is the best day of his life. “Was hoping you’d say yes.”

“Let me think about it,” Max laughs, and Daniel bites his nipple through his shirt. “Liam’s probably told the Herald by now.”

“I’ll personally send him the wedding photos,” Daniel cackles, licking up Max’s neck, leaving wet trails in the cold air con of the room, “if he promises to send me photos of Christian when he tells him I was about to fuck him in front of you.”

“Stop talking about Christian and fuck the World Champion already, husband,” Max says, his laughter turning into moans when Daniel all too willingly complies.

[2amriize]

.ᐟ RIIZE having a crush on you, but you have a bf ༉‧₊˚.

req: heyy idk if youre taking requests but if you do could you please do riize as your friends who have a crush on you even though you have a bf? thqnk youuu

pairing: riize x reader — masterlist

⭑.ᐟ shotaro

Shotaro would be very respectful about it. He liked you a lot, maybe too much, and couldn’t help but feel serious and angry when he saw you with your boyfriend. However, he wouldn’t want to ruin your relationship over his feelings. He’d always be there for you, sometimes even more than your own boyfriend, but he wouldn’t confess his feelings. He’d patiently wait for the day you realized that all along, he was the one meant for you.

⭑.ᐟ eunseok

He wouldn’t be entirely direct, but he also wouldn’t hide the fact that he liked you. He couldn’t bear seeing you with your boyfriend, so if he ever ran into you together, he’d probably ignore your boyfriend completely. If you ever told him about something bad or annoying your boyfriend did, he’d shake his head several times while whispering:

"I would never do that to you..."

⭑.ᐟ sungchan

He wouldn’t be able to stand it. Seeing you with another man? Absolutely not. Sungchan would be very direct about his feelings and wouldn’t act any differently just because you had a boyfriend. He’d buy you gifts that reminded him of you, text you every day, and constantly remind you how important you were to him. Even though you had told him countless times that you had a boyfriend and he shouldn’t do that, he’d just ignore your words.

"I just want you to see how I feel and that my feelings won’t change."

⭑.ᐟ wonbin

You’d definitely know that Wonbin had a crush on you because he’d often say things like, "Why are you with him and not me?" or "I think I’m better than him." Even so, he wouldn’t interfere with your relationship and would patiently wait for the day you were single so he could make his move.

⭑.ᐟ seunghan

Seunghan would be very, very patient. He wouldn’t be able to hold back his feelings, so he’d confess to you as soon as he accepted them himself. He’d make it clear that he knew you had a boyfriend and didn’t expect an answer, but he just wanted you to know. He’d even treat your boyfriend quite well, despite being the person he secretly disliked the most for having you.

⭑.ᐟ sohee

He would be so awkward around you, especially if your boyfriend was around. The moment he realized he liked you, he wouldn’t know how to act. Should he tell you? Should he keep quiet and let it pass? Should he distance himself? After a lot of thought, he’d decide to just try to act normal, though he’d always end up nervous and start rambling incoherently when you were near. Eventually, he’d accidentally let it slip that he liked you.

⭑.ᐟ anton

Even though it was difficult for him and he knew it would put you in a tough spot, Anton would confess his feelings for you, despite knowing you had a boyfriend. Who knows? Maybe by telling you, you’d see him differently. Maybe you’d realize you actually liked Anton too. Or maybe not, but he wanted you to know. He’d continue to treat you the same way he always had, but with a little extra attention, making sure you knew he was there for you whenever you needed.

masterlist // taglist: @regularsuh @gacktsa @totheseok @kkumistars @taroddori @enhacolor @ladylilith @electric-hearts @astrobymarwa @layluv123 @sunflowers1610 @nctrawberries @synkjellies @ramyeonzprincess

[morgana-larkin]

I love your writing and I have a Melissa x reader prompt for you.

They have something casual going on and Mel always tells the reader she is her girl until one day Melissa decides to really make the reader officially her girl.

I thought on something sweet 💕

Hi anon! I love that you love my writing and thank you for the prompt! I kept this sweet like you wanted as it could have gone dark 🙂. I based some of this off of Chappell Roan’s song Casual. Not edited in the slightest and I hope you like it!

On another note: I decided to wait on Worth It part 12 until the new episodes come out to meet Melissa’s family and see what they’re like.

Casual Now?

Warnings: Smut

Words: 2.6k

Both of you lay your head on a pillow after coming, catching your breath. You fall asleep and Melissa scootches closer to you and places an arm around you, gives you a light kiss to avoid waking you up, and then falls asleep beside you.

You wake up and you look to see Melissa is still asleep. You carefully get up as her arm is around you and then you quietly get dressed and then leave. Unknown to you, Melissa was awake the entire time, she woke up a few minutes before you did and she was just enjoying your body against hers, knowing you won’t be soon. She usually awoke a few minutes before you did and just enjoys the feeling of your body against hers.

She let out a sigh when she heard the door to her house close and she went to the window to make sure you got to your car safely. She then kicks her dresser out of anger and then goes to her bed and a tear falls down. The two of you started this casual, no strings attached relationship 3 months ago to let off steam from teaching, but it seems Melissa caught feelings in that time. She thinks back on what happened during sex last night.

You were under her as she had two fingers deep in you. You were a moaning mess and Melissa thinks you look beautiful and the sounds you make are music to her ears.

“Melissa, I’m so close!” You tell her as your legs start shaking.

“Come my beautiful girl.” She tells you and you immediately come.

Melissa didn’t mean to call you her girl but she figured you didn’t notice as you were so close to an orgasm. She sits on her bed thinking about what life could be like with you. If you started dating then she can show you off as hers, eventually move in together, and lots of kisses that she can steal from you.

The next day Melissa gets ready for work, she covers up the small hickey you left on her left breast by accident. She walks in and goes to the break room and sits next to Barb with the trio distracted by something on Janine’s phone.

“Did you see her again this weekend?” Barb asks her as Melissa slumps down in her chair. She of course told Barb when she started getting feelings as she had to tell someone.

“Yes, even if I know I shouldn’t, I just want to be near her.” Melissa explains to her.

“Melissa, you should end it or tell her.” Barb tells her sternly.

“I tried subtly talking about a relationship and she said it’s casual, just like we talked about 3 months ago.” Melissa says and puts her head in her hands. She then gets a text and she looks at her phone.

You: You look stressed, did the other night not help?

You messaged her and she looks and sees you across the room with some teachers and you’re looking at her.

Melissa: It helped at the time, but now I’m thinking of all the things I have to do this week

You: Need a pick me up after school?

Melissa: I’d like that

*After School*

Melissa makes her way to her car to go home and then prepare for when she sees you later. She gets to her car but then sees you walking out of the building and almost no teachers or cars around. She gets an idea and goes to you and drags you to her car.

“Melissa, what are you doing?” You ask her confused and she opens the passenger door and you smile then get in. “Can’t wait I see.” You tease her and she gets in after you.

She gets on top of you and begins making out with you and she feels the stress of today melt away with each kiss. She then goes lower and starts kissing your neck, and without knowing it, she starts sucking, marking you as hers.

“Melissa, don’t leave a hickey on my neck.” You tell her and she groans but then she trails lower and she lowers your shirt and starts sucking on your chest. You know she loves sucking on your body, but what you don’t know is she only started doing it to mark you as hers when she got feelings for you. She then gets down from the seat and drags your underwear down.

“It’s a good thing you decided to wear a dress today, my beautiful girl.” She tells you before diving right to your clit and you moan out.

“Oh Melissa, your tongue feels so good.” You gasp out and you feel her smile as she continues eating you out. You feel each lick and suck she gives your clit and you feel your orgasm start building quickly. She knows your body so well and knows how to bring you to an orgasm in minutes with just her tongue. You grab hold of her hair and you start moving your hips before she pins you down. Your legs start shaking and she goes faster before you moan out as you come. She pulls away and gets back on top of you and continues kissing you to help you come down.

You then slip your hand down her pants and find her clit and immediately start doing circles on it. Melissa gasps and grabs hold of the seat as you bring her to the edge in under a minute. She surges forward and kisses you as she comes.

“So, feel better?” You ask her as you take deep breaths while she rests on your lap.

“Ya, thanks hon.” She says softly and smiles at you.

“You looked really stressed in the break room this morning.” You tell her and she groans and rests her head on your shoulder.

“Don’t remind me.” She says and you giggle.

“Busy week this week?” You ask her.

“More like busy life.” She says and you hum. “Do you want to come back to my place? I have lots of leftovers.” She says and you look at her.

“Why do you want to feed me?”

“We’re friends aren’t we? Isn’t that what friends do?” She asks you.

“They do.” Is all you say as she draws mindless patterns on your chest.

“So want to come to my house then?” She asks you again and you smile and nod.

“Sure, I do love your cooking.” You tell her and Melissa feels happiness run through her entire body knowing she gets to spend time with you.

Melissa gets home and immediately gets changed into something more comfortable but also something that’ll have you staring at her. She goes for a dark pink low cut tank top, black leggings and a black knitted sweater her nonna gave her. You knocked on the door half an hour later and Melissa nearly ran to the door to answer it.

“Hey hon.” She tells you and you smile at her.

“Hey Melissa.” You say and go in when she steps aside. “You look nice.” You tell her when you take in her outfit.

“Thanks, I was just about to reheat the leftovers.” She tells you and goes into the kitchen and you follow her.

“I’m still surprised you offered me to come over. I know we’re friends but you barely offer any friends to come over to your place.” You tell her and she smiles at you.

“That’s because some of them annoy me.” She says.

“And I don’t?”

“You did at first, but you were new last year.”

“So what made you take an interest in me?” You ask her and she quirks an eyebrow at you. “At least, enough of an interest to want to sleep with me.” You add and she chuckles.

“You’re cute and you don’t annoy me as much.” She tells you as she gets the now hot containers out of the microwave and transfers the food onto a plate. She then takes the plates and brings them to the dinner table. You sit down and take your first bite.

“I always love your cooking.” You say with a hum and she smiles at you. “Why did you never become a chef?” You ask her.

“Because cooking is one of my passions but I only like cooking for people I like.”

“Well I’m honoured to be one of those people.” You tell her and Melissa can’t help but smile as you smile at her.

After dinner you both go to the couch with some wine and start a conversation.

“So why Abbott?” She asks you and you tilt your head. “You could teach anywhere, so why an underfunded school?”

“Because I didn’t become a teacher for a big paycheck, I became one to help students.” You tell her with a shrug. “What about you?”

“Same thing.” She says as she finishes off the wine in her glass. “Can I kiss you?” She blurts out and you look at her confused.

“Why are you asking? We’ve kissed before.” You tell her.

“Ya but only when we have sex. Right now I just want to kiss you.” She tells you and looks down at her hands. You put your wine glass down, cup her cheek and kiss her. She puts her hands in your hair to keep you from pulling away and enjoys the feel of your lips on hers. You pull away too soon for Melissa’s liking and you look at her.

“That was one hell of a kiss.” You say with a slight blush.

“Ya, it was.” Melissa agrees with a slight blush of her own.

“Did you really want me over because we’re friends and no other reason?” You ask softly.

“What other reason could I possibly have?”

“I don’t know, it’s just you’ve been acting different lately.” You say and play with your fingernails absent mindlessly.

“Different how?”

“It’s just… before, at the beginning of this casual relationship, you seem to only be in it for the sex, which is the reason we started this. But lately it seems like you want more than just sex.” You try to explain and she looks at you. “Like you kiss me a lot more now, you talk to me in school just to talk to me, you’re inviting me to your place for dinner, and the other day I ran into Kristen Marie and she mentioned you talk about me.” You tell her and she sighs.

“Can’t I just want to be friends with you as well as have casual sex.” She replies with.

“Is it still casual?” You ask her and Melissa freezes. She didn’t expect you to catch on to anything that she does differently.

“It’s still casual hon, I’m not interested in anything else.”

“I didn’t ask you if you were interested in a relationship, I’m asking if you have feelings for me.” You bluntly ask her and Melissa is looking at you like a deer in headlights.

“Look hon, I don’t know what you’re trying to get here but-” she starts to ask but you cut her off with a kiss. She immediately kisses you back and she deepens it quickly. You take her sweater off and she immediately takes yours off before you break the kiss to take off her tank top. “Wait hon, what are you doing?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“I didn’t ask you here for sex.” She clarifies and you roll your eyes.

“I know, but that tank top was driving me crazy as it gave me a great view.” You tell her before kissing her again. Melissa has become addicted to your kisses and always immediately kisses you back. You unclip her bra and tear it off her and cup her boobs with your hands. “Mm, I just love them.” You tell her.

“Touch them all you want.” She says and winks at you before kissing you again. She then straddles your lap and trails her mouth down to your neck and begins kissing it.

“No hickeys on my neck.” You remind her and Melissa has had enough.

“Why not?”

“Because we’re not together and I’m a teacher.”

“What does us not being together have to do with it?”

“Because I don’t want other girls getting the wrong idea, I don’t want them to think I’m not available.” You tell her and Melissa feels a tightness in her chest.

“Are you seeing other girls?” She asks you before she stops herself.

“On dates, yes, I’ve been on a date with two girls since we’ve been hooking up.” You tell her honestly and Melissa gets off of you and sits beside you on the couch. She puts her head in her hands as you look at her confused. “Melissa? What’s wrong?” You ask her and you put a hand on her arm.

“I don’t want you to go out with other girls, I don’t want you to be with anyone else.” She says without looking at you.

“What?” You ask her and she looks at you.

“You’re right, I do have feelings for you and I’m scared about that. I didn’t expect to get feelings for you. It did start off as just casual but about a month later I started having a crush on you.” She tells you and leans back onto the couch. You stare at her in shock before you grab her chin and turn her head to look at you.

“Are you telling me the truth?” You ask her and she nods as a tear falls down her cheek. You wipe the tear away before cupping her cheek and she leans into your touch. “I have feelings for you too.” You tell her and she puts her hand over yours that’s on her cheek.

“Really?”

“Yes, why do you think I’ve noticed you acting different? You know I can be oblivious to things like that but I noticed with you because I wanted to know if you felt the same way.” You tell her and she smiles. “And I honestly didn’t expect to tell you while your boobs are out.” You add on and she giggles.

“Are you complaining?” She asks and you shake your head.

“It’s an incredible sight and they’re a big weakness for me.” You tell her and you blush a bit. She then cups both your cheeks and leans in and kisses you.

“Do you want to be with me?” She asks when she pulls away.

“I thought you didn’t want a relationship right now?”

“I didn’t but I want you. I want you to be my girl and no one else’s.” She tells you and you smile.

“So that’s why you’ve been calling me your girl during sex lately.” You say and she nods. “I want to be your girl, but only if you ask me properly.” You say and she shakes her head.

“You’re impossible, you know that?”

“I’ve been told that yes but you want me to put your impossible girl.” You tease her with and she giggles before tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“I do. Y/n, will you be my girlfriend?” She asks you.

“Yes.” You tell her and seal it with a kiss. “Wait, how is this gonna go as we’ve already been having sex with each other?” You ask her. She rolls her eyes at you and brings you in for another kiss.

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[darkmatilda]

𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐨𝐟𝐟 | 𝐬. 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: spencer takes care of you after a serious accident.

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐰: hospital, rehabilitation, neck and brain injury, nud1ty

𝐚/𝐧: this is one of the potential endings of my fanfiction "with the light off" which officialy remains open up to your own interpretation. this version written to comfort all the hearts i've broken <3

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 11k

Spencer felt embarrassed by how, just an hour after leaving the apartment, he already wanted to call her.

She had already occupied a near-constant presence in the back of his mind, slipping in like a shadow—elusive and playful—darting between his thoughts, flitting from one corner to another whenever he tried, even briefly, to forget about her. But now? After that night they had spent together?

Spencer knew a lot about obsession. He understood the weight of the word and was acutely aware of its gravity. Yet he couldn’t deny it—he was obsessed with her. Physical contact had always been a sensitive yet profoundly significant subject for him. He didn’t allow many people that close. 

For him, touch was the ultimate proof of closeness and trust. Intimacy bred attachment. This wasn’t about desire in its rawest form—it was something else… though he wasn’t entirely sure what. He couldn’t define the bond they shared.

He felt bored, detached from the world when she wasn’t in it, and the only thing keeping him tethered to some semblance of normality was the thought—the imagining—that at this very moment, they were breathing the same air.

He was starting to think he might be losing his mind.

He held off on calling her precisely to avoid coming across as a lunatic in her eyes. He managed to restrain himself only once he was at work, where the seriousness of his profession demanded it. In a way, though, he felt lighter. Throughout the day, he was buoyed by the thought of their upcoming meeting, the excitement it brought—and the nerves. That mixture of emotions was enough to make the entire team glance at him with curiosity.

Garcia was handing out case files, her hair recently dyed a vibrant shade of red. Rossi, instead of opening his folder like everyone else, was watching Spencer from across the table, leaning on his elbow.

“Did you win the lottery or something?” he asked, so unexpectedly that Spencer glanced around at the others, unsure who the question was meant for.

When he realized the question was directed at him, he swallowed hard. Morgan’s raised eyebrow seemed to challenge him to a duel.

“Not that I know of. Why?”

“Because you’re practically glowing, sweetheart,” Penelope chimed in with a sly smile. “Don’t think you’re getting away without telling me everything later. I’ll get it out of you, don’t you worry. But for now, let’s get started…”

They immersed themselves in the case, but a few hours later, during a brief moment of downtime, he realized he was looking for an excuse to call her. Was a simple desire to ask what she was up to reason enough?

He wondered if she was still at his apartment. He hoped she was. He knew she’d eventually have to leave to prepare for the shift she was starting later that afternoon, but he couldn’t shake the unease gnawing at him about the whole situation with her roommate’s ex-boyfriend.

Realizing he’d been staring at his phone for far too long and that he’d soon need to get back to work, he made a snap decision and called.

But no one answered.

Logically, he reasoned that mornings were probably her time to sleep. Afterward, he tried sending a text message. But by late evening, when he finally returned to his apartment, he was starting to feel genuinely worried.

The question nagged at him: could it have been about the previous night? Maybe he’d done or said something wrong, something that had put her off completely?

Slowly, he walked into the bedroom, pausing in the doorway as his eyes landed on the perfectly made bed. It definitely hadn’t looked like that when he left it.

Then his gaze fell on the slightly ajar safe, and he froze. The combination was incredibly complicated, so he must have left it open when he took out his gun and badge. Besides those items, there was one more thing inside.

He had once again fallen into the trap of keeping Dilaudid close, even though he wasn’t using it. Was it possible she found it, and that’s why she hadn’t reached out?

It wasn’t that he had lied to her about being clean. She had seen how much effort it took for him to talk about it, so she approached the subject with incredible subtlety, never asking directly, but watching him closely, carefully, yet without pressing.

If she had really found it in his safe, she might have felt betrayed. Or maybe she decided she didn’t want to get involved with someone who had such a problem. Perhaps she had seen the whole previous night as one big mistake and then decided to throw him out of her life. Spencer, though it pained him, couldn’t help but feel that he deserved it.

He sat on the bed, crushed by his own thoughts. Something didn’t sit right with the version of events he had imagined. First and foremost, she wasn’t the type of person who would turn him away because of this. Her heart ached to help others; she couldn’t ignore someone else’s troubles. Even if he had hurt her, her immense capacity for understanding would have remained intact. Empathy was imprinted on her, like a deep, unshakable mark.

Driven by a hunch, he reached for his phone to call her again. That’s when he noticed two missed calls from an unknown number, just fifteen minutes ago.

He pressed the phone to his ear, his brow furrowing in confusion as he heard the first sound on the other end… a sob?

The sound went on and on, and Spencer was too confused to utter a single word.

“Who am I talking to?” he finally asked. Unable to stop himself, he stood up. He didn’t even know what was going on or who he was talking to, but he sprang to his feet anyway. His body compelled him, his insides twisting with unpleasant spasms.

It could just as well have been some stupid prank. The problem was, it wasn’t.

“H-hey, it’s J-Jude,” a voice came from the other end. Female, shaky, and choked with sobs so severe that if he didn’t already know her name, he would never have guessed he was speaking to her roommate. He stopped pacing the room. “I-it was me…I called earlier. S-she doesn’t have any…any family, and I didn’t know…I didn’t know who to inform…I can’t handle this on my own…they just took her away again…”

It wasn’t as if the world suddenly came to a halt. It simply became both sharper and blurrier at the same time. Spencer could see that single, bright strand of hair on the pillow with perfect clarity, yet his own legs seemed out of reach. When he looked down, all he saw was darkness stretching below him. Somehow, he was still breathing.

“What are you talking about?” he asked. Later, he couldn’t explain how his voice—those first words—had sounded so composed. “W-who took her… where… and why…?

“I have no fucking idea!” she shouted, followed by a long silence during which Jude took a desperate gasp of air. “I mean, I do, I do know! They just brought her in, but... but suddenly they took her back because there was some kind of…bleeding…”

“...ding?” he blurted out, the first syllable swallowed entirely by his panic.

“No, I don’t want anything to calm me down, I am calm, can’t you tell?” Her voice grew distant, as if she’d pulled the phone away from her mouth. Then it came back, clear and pleading. “Please, come here…”

She hung up. The phone slipped from his hand as if it burned him. In a frenzy, he bent down to grab it, only to drop it again. Finally, he fell to his knees, managing at last to pick it up. As he stood, he felt as though some substance was spreading through his brain—black, toxic, and utterly destructive. Its effects left him barely tethered to reality. He could hear and see, but everything was overlaid with Jude’s words, looping in his mind like printed text on a screen.

The next thirty minutes were a blur.

How could it be logically explained that, in a state of complete detachment from the outside world, he somehow managed to figure out, based on the map of the area imprinted in his memory, which specific hospital she was in? How did his panicked, trembling hands manage to cover that distance by car without causing an accident?

The only thing he knew was that he ended up at the nearest hospital, wearing just a shirt with no outer layer. It was shocking that he even had shoes on. 

He should have been looking for the woman who had called him, demanding every bit of information she had. But somehow, instinctively, his eyes searched for someone else—a familiar face. He prayed it was all some sort of misunderstanding. Maybe he was fooling himself, hoping to spot her among the people passing by. A part of him simply refused to accept the possibility that anything could have happened to her.

Nothing had happened.

She was fine.

Her blue eyes were soaking in the surroundings, their gaze carrying that faint sparkle that always appeared at night. Maybe there was even a smile on her lips. He couldn’t—wouldn’t—allow himself to imagine what might have happened to her. It felt as though the universe itself should be ashamed for ever entertaining the thought of harming her.

"Are you family?" the man at reception asked. Spencer nodded. "I'm sorry, but I can't provide you with any information,"

"Just tell me, is she alive?"

"I can't…"

"Just fucking tell me…"

"They’re operating on her right now," a voice spoke from behind him. Spencer turned and blinked. Only then did he realize he was in a hospital. Before, he’d only had a goal—an urgent need to get there. The surroundings were just beginning to take shape in his mind. He had never seen this woman before, but he guessed it had to be Jude. Her face was swollen from crying, but she seemed less shaken than during their call. She had probably accepted the sedatives. "Again. First, they spent almost four hours working on her neck… they said she was stable, asleep, but then suddenly there was that bleeding… I watched them take her out of the room right in front of me…"

“Did you see her?”

Unexpectedly, she hid her face in her hands.

“I didn’t know who to call. She mentioned you a few times, and I had your number, and I didn’t know what to do…” she began explaining chaotically, as if it mattered at all. “It’s my fault, you know, all of this is my fucking fault…”

They were standing right in front of the receptionist, blocking his access to others who needed help. Spencer snapped back to the moment, pulling her a few steps aside.

“W-what did you say? That they operated on her for four hours?”

“Yes, the first time…”

So, she had been there for at least four hours. Longer, considering the time needed after surgery before visiting a patient. Pain spread across his chest. While he was wondering why she hadn’t answered his calls, coming to various conclusions, she had been fighting for her life?

He... had been at work, moving around, talking to others, living, while all of this was happening? He felt as if... as if he had betrayed her. It was absurd, even he knew that. Despite the state he was in—tragic, to be precise—he understood just how absurd that thought was. But he couldn’t stop the guilt and shame that washed over him every time he tried to imagine her on the operating table while he had been completely unaware of her condition.

“I need to sit down," Jude muttered, and after a moment, they found themselves on narrow chairs lined along the hospital walls. Spencer barely managed to force his knees to bend, his body to settle into the seat.

He was only beginning to adjust to the foreign gravity that was pressing down on him.

In his head, there was only one thought, one resolution, one desire. The only thing that could save him from losing his mind in this waiting room.

"I need to see her."

"We have to wait," Jude replied, pressing her hand to her forehead. More tears appeared in her eyes. She wasn’t just terrified, she was completely falling apart. "We... we once gave each other permission to access information about our health. You know, in case of an accident. The doctors told me everything. A neck sprain. A concussion. Two broken ribs and a broken forearm." Although her speech had been unclear earlier, when she listed the injuries, she sounded like a movie announcer.

Spencer quickly realized that these words must have been echoing in her head since they were first told to her. The same thing had been happening to him. Each word was like a blow delivered with full force, and his extensive medical knowledge wasn’t helping him avoid panic. He was too aware of the danger and too aware of the suffering her poor body must have endured.

They both squeezed their eyes shut tightly. Spencer felt as though his temples might explode. Waiting. Was there anything worse in the world than waiting? Being stuck in ignorance, teetering between uncertainty, relief, and utter despair? Feeling all of it at once?

"How did this even happen?" he asked the woman sitting next to him.

He was sure he already knew the answer to that question. She didn’t even need to say it. It was enough to see how she dropped her gaze, heavy with pain, and how tightly her jaw clenched.

“She... fell down the stairs.”

Spencer wanted to scoff at the understatement. The real version of events couldn’t pass Jude’s lips, but in some way, he considered that a blessing. If Jude had openly admitted that she had been pushed, he might have crumbled under the weight of the fury flooding him. But for now, his anger didn’t matter. Only the passing time did.

He felt as if he hadn’t taken a single breath since leaving his apartment. Leaning his head back in his seat, he endured what felt like two whole days, then glanced at his watch only to realize that exactly forty-seven seconds had passed.

Time—a relative concept. In physics and in human perception. Einstein had proven it, and so had that particular moment.

He started to fear that he might never leave the waiting room. Memories and emotions began to blur together. He formed a theory: that he had been trapped there for quite some time—weeks, perhaps. Back when another loved one had been on the operating table, and he’d been losing his mind in much the same way.

Could it be that, under the strain of this torturous waiting, he’d lost his sanity? That his brain, desperate for relief, had simply imagined everything that followed? The trip to the library that night, finding himself at her door, the string lights on the Christmas tree, the Venus flytrap, the bar, opening the door that night and seeing her on the stairwell—at once flushed from a night spent at the club and chilled from the December air?

And now that illusion had simply shattered, like a fragment of broken glass. He was back in the waiting room again, waiting, hurting too much—and yet feeling as though he had no right to. His pain was nothing compared to what she was going through. He should be doing something, anything, to make himself useful, to not succumb to the weight of his own helplessness.

When the doctor finally approached them, Spencer almost knocked over his chair in his haste to stand. The doctor, however, focused solely on Jude as he delivered the update, leaving Spencer questioning whether he even existed.

“We managed to stop the bleeding. That’s the good news,” he began, his dark eyes unreadable—at once cool and concerned, with the practiced composure characteristic of people in his profession.

“Thank God,” Jude whispered, rubbing her chest as if trying to calm the frantic beating of her heart.

Spencer, on the other hand, felt no relief. Not even a sliver.

"‘That’s good news,’" he repeated the doctor’s words, drawing the man’s gaze to him. ‘But… but is there something bad?’

That brief moment before the doctor answered felt longer than nearly the past two hours of waiting.

“Due to suspected brain swelling, we had to induce a coma.’

“What?’ Jude mouthed silently. “How… how could she be in a coma? Why? Was that necessary?’

“They needed to reduce the intracranial pressure,’ Spencer replied, the words spilling from his mouth without him even realizing he was speaking. ‘The coma prevents further damage and minimizes the brain’s oxygen consumption. But will she… how long will she…?’

“Only for a few days,’ the doctor assured him, understanding the question he couldn’t quite form. “As long as there are no further complications or additional bleeding. But I can reassure you for now: there’s no indication of that. Her condition seems stable. She was… incredibly lucky. It was a serious accident—a miracle, a sheer miracle—that she didn’t break her spine.’"

For a moment, he couldn’t utter a single word, his throat still tight, and the relief never came. He knew he wouldn’t feel it until he saw her, fully conscious and awake. Until that happened, he would grimace every time he heard the word miracle. 

"When will I be able to see her?" he asked, surprisingly calm and composed. The question was so important to him that his voice didn’t tremble even once. In fact, it was the only thing that mattered right now.

"You’ll need to wait a few hours before visiting. We have to make sure there’s no risk of a sudden deterioration in her condition. Also, only authorized individuals can visit her."

The last part of the doctor’s statement felt almost like a slap in the face.

"How many hours?" he pressed, impatience creeping into his voice. "Two? Four? Six?"

"Please, calm down," the doctor asked, making a gesture with his hand.

“Eight?”

His voice grew increasingly sharp, desperately demanding an answer. The doctor opened his mouth to respond, but Jude interrupted with a question.

"As an authorized person, can I, on behalf of the patient, allow him to visit?" she asked, catching Spencer’s gaze for a brief moment before quickly turning away. "She would want this, I know it."

The doctor shook his head in refusal, providing them with a few more details about the surgery before turning to leave. Spencer watched him leave, something in him wavering between a sigh and a snort. So they wouldn’t even let him visit her? He understood the hospital procedures and rules perfectly well, but when it came to his own case, he hated them with all his heart. They wouldn’t allow him to see someone who meant so much to him, simply because they weren’t bound by blood or a ring on his finger. A ring on his finger… maybe he should lie and say they were engaged?  Although, would it really make any difference in the eyes of the hospital staff?

Before the loose fragments in his mind began to form a plan, he noticed that Jude was staring at him. She had sat down again, pressing her back tightly against the chair's backrest. She hadn’t cried for a while now; a certain relief had settled on her face when she heard the surgery had been successful, but then the old devastation returned, stronger than ever before.

"I won’t be able to visit her," she said, her voice hollow. "Not even while she’s unconscious. And when she wakes up, look her in the eyes. Tell me, how could I do that after everything? After all of this was my fault?"

Spencer turned away and walked off.

He knew that if he didn’t, something inside him would break. He couldn’t stop the anger he felt toward Jude. From what he knew, she had repeatedly refused to report her ex-boyfriend to the police, perhaps more or less aware of the danger he posed. She had the right to do so, theoretically. But that didn’t change the fact that someone else had suffered because of her foolish decision.

In his eyes she deserved the guilt she felt.

Not knowing what to do with himself, he found a place far from her, far from anyone, where he spent the next few hours, hardly moving. Sometimes he observed the relatives of other patients in the hospital, also broken, but he had some selfish feeling that even they wouldn’t understand what he felt. He placed himself on some distant, elite orbit of suffering and felt almost embarrassed by it. 

Pain always makes sure that a person feels as lonely and misunderstood as possible in it. That is when it has the most power over them.

He kept away from the windows, the darkness outside, slowly losing its intensity, putting him into a state of shock and contemplation. Maybe time was a relative concept, but that didn’t change the fact that it existed. Somewhere far away, there was light beyond this waiting room.

For some time now, he had been occupied with a certain task. He was aware of the hours passing and how, with them, his desperation grew. He felt he would go mad if he didn’t see her. The designated time during which the patient should be ensured complete rest after surgery had ended, yet he knew they wouldn’t let him in to see her. But he had a brain for a reason, right?"

He found the room where everything that mattered to him at that moment was. A young doctor was just leaving.

"Excuse me, ma'am,” he approached her politely, trying to appear calm, though his appearance and trembling hands clearly suggested otherwise. “I need to visit this patient.”

“Are you a relative?”

“No, actually…” He knew this was a desperate move and resorting to a lie, but he didn’t care. What was morality in his situation? Just a word. He reached for the badge he had with him and cleared his throat. “I’m with the FBI. I’ve been assigned to see this particular patient; it’s a matter that cannot be delayed."

Believe it or not, but people often lost their minds at the mere mention of the FBI. Spencer suspected that such a young doctor might have some gaps in experience and not know what procedures were in place in such a situation.

The surprised woman took a half step back.

“But she’s in a coma…” she said uncertainly, turning toward the room. “Are you sure it’s this patient?”

“Absolutely. And as I said, there’s no time to waste.”

He didn’t put his badge away, still holding it raised, with a serious expression on his face, as if he were interrogating someone. It was clear she was torn with doubt, but fortunately for him, she decided to give in without consulting the decision.

Spencer almost ran into the room, unable to hold back his impatience any longer. At first, he felt as if in a dream, one where you achieve your greatest goal. However, it quickly turned into a nightmare, all because of what he saw.

Whatever he had imagined, he was not prepared for this sight. 

Especially because before he even noticed her face, the face he was so desperate to see, he first noticed everything else surrounding it. The hospital equipment, the machines and devices monitoring her vital signs. The wide orthopedic collar tight around her neck. The sterile whiteness of it all, obscuring her and making her almost disappear against its backdrop. It wasn’t until he approached the bed, his legs weak and unsteady, that he started to look at her, but again, not specifically at her, but at the injuries. The sight of swollen temples, the sunken eyes, pale and dry lips, skin like a sheet of paper. Every injury on her body caused him unimaginable pain, so intense it almost stopped him from breathing. He felt so much anger and injustice that she had to go through this that he almost wanted to fall to his knees and apologize to her, beg for forgiveness. For what? He couldn’t decide. It wasn’t a need driven by logic, it was something deep inside him.

And that’s what he did, even though there was a place beside the bed where he could sit. He slowly knelt down, his hands touching the edge of the bed, but not her body. After all, he wasn’t about to risk causing her any pain due to his lack of control. But he had such an overwhelming desire to take her hand, the one whose fingers shyly peeked out from under the cast.

"I should have gone with you," he said, after about five minutes spent in complete silence, undisturbed even by his breath, which he was holding back. "I should have. Walked you to the door and made sure you got inside safely. I’m sorry…"

He felt that with his pitiful apologies, he was disturbing her peace. She needed it to fully rest. So, he fell silent again, alternating between looking at her with furrowed brows in tender concern and resting his forehead against the edge of the bed whenever the sight became too painful. While before, time seemed to crawl at the slowest possible pace, now it was racing forward wildly.

In his perception, barely a minute had passed when someone’s presence appeared behind him. He turned over his shoulder, noticing the young nurse who had let him in, and it took him a long time before he even realized it. After all, he had lied to her, saying it was some professional matter, yet she had found him kneeling by the hospital bed.

He quickly got to his feet, nervously rubbing his face.

“For the patient’s well-being, no visits should last longer than twenty minutes,” the woman said surprisingly gently, leaning slightly against the door with her shoulder. An unidentified expression lingered in her eyes, making them seem...warm.

He didn’t answer, just nodded. He no longer felt the need to play that little charade that had helped him get inside. He allowed himself one last long moment, looking at her face, peaceful in sleep. He passed the doctor in the doorway, feeling her eyes turn to him, and he did the same, out of curiosity. She smiled, sadly and with compassion.

"This had nothing to do with any FBI assignment, right?”

Her understanding seemed almost touching. However, Spencer, caught in the moment, quickly withdrew, once again making his way down the hospital corridors, now completely unsure of what to do with himself. He leaned against one of the walls, slowly feeling the fatigue from the entire night spent waiting to see her. He found his phone in his pocket, realized it was already morning, and that… Hotch had called him.

It was a quick collision with the outside world. He called back, as nothing else came to mind that he could focus on.

"Reid," the serious voice of his boss came through on the other end. "Why aren’t you at work, and why aren’t you answering?"

He needed to take a breath before he could respond.

"Sorry, Hotch," he said, trying not to sound weak, but that’s exactly how he sounded. Weak, a little pitiful, and on the verge of exhaustion. "Something... something really important happened, and... I... I won’t be able to come in today..."

Spencer realized he had no idea how to explain himself in this situation.

"I can’t remember the last day you were even late. What happened?" He didn’t answer. "Where are you?" Silence. "Spencer."

"It’s... a personal matter."

There was a brief silence from his boss, and Spencer could almost imagine how he furrowed his dark brows in confusion.

"I understand." His voice was tense, but not with disapproval, which surprised Spencer. More with... concern. Had he managed to read the seriousness of the situation just from his voice? Probably, after all, he was the best profiler Spencer knew. "You’ll need to explain later, but for now... take care of yourself. Do you need any help?”

He assured him insincerely that everything was fine and found an empty chair to sit in, hunched over. A strong pressure formed in his head, amplified by the helplessness and uncertainty about what he should do next. She was in a coma, and according to the doctor, she would be in it for the next few days. And what was he supposed to do during that time? He felt that physically, he could spend another hundred hours on that specific chair. Occasionally stretching his legs. It was his plan, one that seemed more real with every passing minute. At least, until a figure cast its shadow over him.

"Reid," a familiar voice spoke.

He looked up, surprised, at Morgan. His mouth was slightly open in confusion, his forehead deeply furrowed.

"What are you doing here?"

"How... how did you know where I was?" That was the first thing that came to his mind.

"Penelope. How she knew, I have no idea, but I’m starting to suspect that her joke about having us all chipped wasn’t really a joke. But anyway, what’s going on? Hotch told me you called, and you sounded... unsettling."

His friend was watching him closely. His wrinkled clothes, his tired face.

"So... Hotch sent you to find me?"

"Reid, you’re our friend. Did you really think we wouldn’t be worried about you?"

Spencer lowered his head, listening to his words. Derek was silent for a moment, his hands resting on his hips, his tense face scanning the surroundings. After a while, he focused his gaze back on him.

"Who is the person you’re visiting?"

He hesitated before answering, not because he didn’t want to share the information, but because he wasn’t sure how to refer to her. What should he call her? After all, it wasn’t like they were in an official relationship, and the word friend seemed to leave something unsaid.

“Someone... someone very important to me. She had an accident. She has... a cervical spine injury, and the doctors, suspecting brain swelling, decided to put her into a coma for a while.”

Morgan's eyes widened.

“Damn, Reid. I’m so... I’m so sorry.”

He sat down on the empty chair beside him, his face still showing shock. Exhausted, Spencer simply rested his head on his knees, no longer able to keep his posture straight. He felt drained, yet at the same time, he couldn’t bring himself to leave—couldn’t leave her…

Morgan’s hand fell onto his back, and finally, then sighed.

“Come here, man.”

With a firm pull, he drew him into an embrace.

Spencer found it hard to admit, even to himself, how much he needed this. No words left their mouths for a long while; only that brotherly, supportive embrace remained between them.

“Have you seen her?” Morgan asked after a while.

He confirmed, but didn’t reveal the circumstances. His friend paused for a moment, as if he wanted to say something but hesitated.

“Okay, listen to me. You need to get back to yourself.”

Spencer scoffed and shook his head, ready to argue.

“Let me finish. I know you don’t want to leave her right now, but with all due respect, you look like death. You need to eat and get some sleep.”

“I can’t,” Spencer replied firmly.

“You’re going to collapse soon. You said she’ll be in a coma for a few days. You won’t make it sitting here, think realistically. No one’s asking you to go back to work, you just need to rest.” He looked at him seriously, knowing how hard it would be to convince him. Finally, he sighed once more. “Do it for her, alright? Do you really think she’d want you to wear yourself out like this?”

He had no ready answer for that. Well, he did, but it sounded like no, she wouldn’t want that.

“I’ll take you home. For God’s sake, you came here without even a coat?”

It's a strange feeling to let someone take care of you. Completely. Derek not only drove him to his apartment but also came inside with him. There was no emotional discussion between them, which he found to be a relief. Silent support, he thought.

His relationship with the other team members had been tested after Emily's death—or at least, that's what he had thought up until now. He had begun isolating himself, not wanting to intrude on their grief or burden them with his own problems. But in reality—something he hadn’t seen until now—it had been the opposite. It strengthened their bond.

The next few days revolved mainly around hospital visits. Somehow, he had managed to gain visiting rights, and the time spent by her side filled him with a certain sense of calm. He could see how stable her vital signs were, and he clung to the doctors’ reassurances that she would regain consciousness in just a few days.

He once read a series of articles and interviews with people who had been in comas. Their accounts sometimes contradicted medical facts and often included embellishments, but a significant number of them mentioned remembering the voices of loved ones and certain sounds.

He didn’t want her to remember only the sounds of medical equipment from this period. But he also wasn’t sure what he could talk to her about. Would she want to hear about the overly salted carbonara that Garcia had forced an entire pot of on him? Or about the abstract mural being painted across from his apartment—something he was sure she would have liked?

In the end, he decided to read to her, though choosing what to read proved challenging. Sleeping Beauty seemed too ironic, even though she would probably laugh about it later. She had once told him Girl, Interrupted was her favorite book, but its hospital setting made him suspect she might prefer something that let her escape this place, even if only in her imagination. The Silence of the Lambs referenced one of their past conversations, but if a doctor overheard him reading it to her, he would surely be banned from visiting altogether.

“All right,” he began one day, sitting down in the chair by her bed. “I know you’re not a big fan of fantasy. And yes, you’ll have every right to call me out on this when you wake up. But still, I hope you’ll like it.”

Arabian Nights was a collection of tales and stories originating from the Middle East, India, and Persia. Somehow, he assumed that the mysterious, often nocturnal atmosphere might resonate with her, even soothe her. After all, night had always been her favorite time of day—the backdrop to so much of her life.

That day, as he was about to leave, he leaned slightly over her bed, lowering his voice to a whisper.

"Tomorrow, I'll read you a romance, how does that sound? But I’ll have to go to the bookstore because, despite your beliefs, I don’t have any in my collection. I wish I’d had more time to get to know your reading preferences better."

During none of his previous visits had he touched her, afraid it might disturb her peace in some negative way. Besides... in the state she was in, she looked so fragile and delicate that he feared even the slightest touch could hurt her. But that time, he simply couldn’t hold back. After a long internal struggle, he placed a very brief kiss on her forehead.

Spencer couldn’t keep his promise. While he did buy a romance novel recommended to him with enthusiasm by a young bookstore clerk, he never had the chance to read it to her.

The next day, he received a message. 

She had woken up. 

*

You didn’t remember much.

Only fragmented scraps. The memories began with a brief moment of complete physical helplessness, a terrible pain in your neck, and a series of flashing lights mingling with raised voices—even shouting. Then came silence, vile and terrifying.

But that wasn’t the end. Something came after the silence.

Softly spoken stories. For some reason, they were comforting. In your mind, only a few blurred images remained—no clear events or words. What you remembered most was that soothing, calm voice. It felt like an embrace, like warm bedding, the first rays of cosmic light piercing through clouds, or the gentle chill of evening air.

It was… beautiful. But it couldn’t last forever. After an indeterminate amount of time, your body decided to reject that comfort and tried to open its eyes. It was an excruciating effort. You sighed with the strain. The first colors and surreal shapes began to appear before you. Slowly, you started to become aware of your existence, yet at the same time, you felt suspended somewhere outside your body and mind—alone and terrified.

The sensations were both faint and overwhelmingly intense, making you want to hide, to somehow cut yourself off from them. Yet you were equally afraid to close your eyes again. You muttered things that made no sense. You remained in this panicked state until two tiny brown points hovered above you, widening with concern. Only then were you able to calm down—at least enough to stop straining your body with attempts to move. Attempts, because your body seemed entirely unwilling to follow your commands.

The fear buried itself deep within you, drilling into your chest. At first, it suffocated you, but eventually, it began to weaken and fade.

This was how the first hours after waking from the coma unfolded.

Weakness, disorientation, mumbling, pain, discomfort, and light sensitivity.

It took a long time before you regained awareness of being in a hospital. Even more time passed before you remembered why. And then, your own condition and state.

You were so incredibly weak that it filled you with disgust, terrified by how much effort even the smallest movement required—like the twitch of a finger or the blink of an eye. Frustrated by it all, you cried, and he cried too. But his tears were born of relief and joy.

Those two specific emotions reached you the latest—only after they transferred you to a different ward, and your thoughts began to clear. Relief and joy. Hand in hand with fear and anxiety. 

It felt so unreal, yet it was real—real like nothing else, and it held you tightly, exactly the way you needed it to.

*

Spencer was aware that her awakening was just another step in a very long journey.

His medical knowledge, modestly speaking, was fairly extensive, and he understood the gravity of the injuries she had sustained. Their first meeting after she had opened her eyes for the first time was nothing like a scene from a movie. She was confused, still drowsy, and as she slowly started to comprehend everything, she was primarily terrified. Her body, after the time spent in the coma, though brief, was extremely weak, and every little movement exhausted her as though she had just run a marathon.

The fear on her face pierced his chest.

He had the impression that none of the words he spoke, almost whispered in an attempt to calm her, were having any effect.

"I... I can't move," she stammered as one of the first things she said. Her eyes intensely focused on his face, searching for safety in it, and he feared he wouldn't be able to provide it for her.

"It's just temporary," he reassured her gently, leaning over her bed and trying to smile, but it came out uncertain, he was too worried about her condition. "The doctors say so, and that's the truth. Your body is just very weak right now."

"Will... will it be like this forever?"

"No, no, it will pass. I promise, it will pass," he nodded fervently. She hesitated and took a breath, as though discovering an entirely new action. But as soon as she did, out of fear, it became fast and irregular. He was terrified that his touch might cause her pain, but he didn't know what else he could do to help her. Gently, as gently as he could, he placed his hand on her cheek, barely grazing it with his thumb. "You'll feel better soon. Really, it won’t be long now. For now... just don’t overexert yourself, please, breathe."

At first, she flinched. He wanted to withdraw his hand as quickly as possible, but then he felt her press her face against it, almost nuzzling into it. A shy tear danced in one of her eyes, barely noticeable.

"It’s good to see you," she said after a brief silence, a soft sigh escaping her lips—almost like a laugh, though it didn’t quite make it. Her breath was still shallow and uneven, but with each passing moment, it seemed to steady as he held her close.

And in that moment, seeing her like that, feeling her presence so close, a smile spread across his face—a smile so genuine, so long-awaited—and with it came the tears he’d been holding back for what felt like forever.

"I feel the same," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "You have no idea how much."

*

The orthopedic collar pissed you off like nothing else.

It wasn’t even the discomfort that bothered you, it was just... the collar was such a painful reminder of your condition, a testament to what you had been through. And you were supposed to wear it for another six to eight weeks.

Two weeks after waking from the coma, preparations for leaving the hospital were beginning. The risk of brain swelling had subsided, the injuries were healing, and the concussion still made its presence known, but the pain was no longer as intense. You could even have a normal conversation, which you seized almost immediately, striking up a chat with the teenage girl in the bed next to you, her sad expression tugging at your heart.

Few people visited you; you preferred that the two most important ones could spend as much time with you as possible, rather than inviting coworkers or acquaintances you hadn’t spoken to in months. The two most important people.

Spencer had been with you since the moment you woke up, and as the doctor confessed to you with a small smile, he had also stayed by your side while you were in a coma. You were in shock. Not because he had done it—it made perfect sense, given his caring nature. The shock came from the simple fact that one person could care so deeply about another, about you.

It didn’t take long for you to realize that the moments when he visited you became your favorite part of the entire day. And not just because they revolved around checking your condition, tests, and the first, incredibly light rehabilitation exercises. You simply found yourself waiting for the moment he would appear in that doorway again, holding his coat in hand, smiling.

"Hello, handsome stranger," you greeted him one day, the first day you were starting to feel better.

 Spencer stopped at the sound of that term, tilting his head with an even wider smile.

 "How else did I used to call you?" you mused aloud. "Ah, I used to call you Mr. Mysterious. But I suppose that's no longer fitting, you smile too much to seem mysterious."

 "Because I have a reason," he replied, stopping beside your bed and glancing at the flowers placed there, the ones that had greeted you when you woke up that day. "But in that case, 'Handsome stranger' doesn’t fit either, since you know me now."

"But you are handsome. Half of it fits, so I have the right to call you that. Who... who sent me these flowers?"

"Better question would be, who didn’t send you those?" he muttered, referring to their large number. You could only admire them—the beautiful, colorful arrangements—but you hadn’t had the chance to read the notes and messages attached. Spencer glanced at one of them, his smile fading, though not in a bad way... somehow, the expression that appeared on his face was even more pleasing than his smile. "This... this one’s from my team."

You were simply speechless.

 "They... they even know I exist?"

 "Of course they do, how could they not?" Spencer paused for a moment, looking at you thoughtfully. "They... they were with me the whole time you were in a coma. They helped me keep my head together."

 "Don’t exaggerate," you tried to dispel the sudden serious mood. You didn’t want to delude yourself into thinking he had been that worried about you during that time. 

 "It’s not an exaggeration," he replied briefly and seriously, his face almost motionless.

For a moment, you fell silent, your hands resting on the blanket in front of you.

 "Sorry, Spencer. I just realized I’ve never thanked you for this..."

"What?" he asked, surprised, his brows furrowing. "This isn’t something you have to thank me for..."

"But I feel like I have to. This... this isn’t some small, silly favor. You really did so much for me... I still don’t fully understand why..."

 "You don’t understand why?"

"Yeah," you sighed uncertainly, not sure how to put it into words. "Don’t get me wrong... I’m so grateful to you, it’s just... look at it this way. We didn’t know each other that long, we saw each other rarely. We slept together once. It’s not like you were…obligated to help me."

"I didn’t have to be obligated to do it," he said after a moment of hesitation, circling your bed and sitting on the edge, just barely touching it. "And I didn’t have to know you for years. I just wanted to do it because of how much I cared about you. And if that explanation doesn’t convince you... then..." He swallowed hard. "Remember, you were there for me during one of the worst moments of my life."

“It’s not the same...”

 “Oh, but it is. For me, it is. But I don’t want you to think that I was there for you because I felt like I owed you something. Or that I had to... I don’t know... repay you in some way. That’s not it at all.”

You didn’t answer, something tight gripped your throat. You just tilted your head, overwhelmed with emotion, speechless. The only thing you truly wanted to do was stretch out your arms and drape them around his neck, resting your chin on his shoulder. Spencer sighed, surprised and tense. It wasn’t until a brief moment passed that his hands gently touched your back.

“How much longer are you going to act like I’m made of glass?” you asked.

You knew his caution was justified, but Jesus. You just really wanted to hug him properly.

“Probably forever,” he replied, to which you rolled your eyes.

He was the one to break the hug, but in compensation, he quickly kissed the top of your head. You leaned back against the bed, feeling a pleasant sensation in your stomach. Spencer returned to the flowers to tell you who had sent them all.

“So these are from my team,” he picked up the lost thread, pointing to the arrangement of white and pink carnations. He chuckled. “And I’m pretty sure Penelope picked them out, not just because her name is listed first. White represents perseverance and strength. Pink stands for admiration and respect.”

“That’s really thoughtful. And beautiful. I’ll have to thank them. And these tulips?”

Spencer took the note attached to the mentioned flowers between his fingers.

“From... Jerry.”

“What? My husband sent me flowers?”

 “What?” He jerked his head up in surprise.

You laughed so hard at the look on his face that it made you wince in your ribs.

 “I’m fucking kidding, you fool,” you replied, clutching your side with a groan. “Jerry is the librarian. You should know him. He once asked me what flowers he should buy for his wife, and I suggested yellow tulips. By the way, it's so nice of him”.

You said it affectionately, but it sounded incredibly weak. Along with the pain in your ribs, a headache joined in, and suddenly all the energy you'd had earlier evaporated.

“What's happening? Should I call a doctor?”

“No,” you shook your head in refusal. “I just need to lie down for a moment. Come here.”

Spencer followed your request and sat beside your bed, his body a little stiff, as if in guilt.

"I'm sorry I made you laugh."

"That's probably the strangest thing you could apologize for," you muttered, lying down in the position that was best for your neck, one you almost hated as much as the orthopedic collar. "Well, I guess I could come up with something stranger. Sorry I left that million dollars in your nightstand. It won't happen again."

"I'm not sure if this kind of chatter is particularly good for your condition."

"It helps me mentally, and that's what matters most. Besides, stop complaining."

"How could I possibly dare?"

He fell silent, simply watching you with quiet concern. You closed your eyes for a moment, unsure if you might accidentally drift off. After spending a week in a coma, your sleep routine had become completely erratic. You slept through the nights, mostly because there was little else to do, and you didn’t want to disturb the other patients in the ward. During the day, Spencer would visit, and you wanted to be as rested as possible when he was around.

When he wasn’t there, you sometimes napped during the day as well. According to the doctors, it was one of the best things you could do for your recovery—sleep and rest as much as your body needed.

"Is something bothering you?" he asked.

You hesitated for a long moment, because yes, something was weighing heavily on your mind. Had he guessed, or had he read it on your face?

“It’s just…” you began with a sigh. “You know Jude barely visits me? I mean, she shows up every day, but… she’s so tense and distant when she’s here. She doesn’t say much, and she won’t look me in the eyes.”

"She’s blaming herself," Spencer said softly.

“God, that’s so stupid,” you muttered.

You had a strange relationship with the accident. You thought about it as little as possible, keeping it at arm’s length. You knew Richard had been arrested, but you didn’t want to know the details of his sentencing. In no way did you see any of it as Jude’s fault, and it hurt you deeply to think that she did.

You spent a quiet moment together before Spencer leaned over you again, intending to kiss your forehead.

“I’m sorry, but I’ll have to go now,” he said, to which you nodded in understanding.

But then you shifted your head, pulling back just enough to stop him from brushing his lips against your forehead. He looked at you, puzzled, since you’d never minded it before.

This time, though, you wanted him to kiss you on the lips.

He kissed you slowly. You had almost forgotten how he tasted.

After that, you didn’t bother opening your eyes again. You let yourself imagine that he wasn’t leaving at all, and with that comforting thought, you drifted off to sleep.

*

Spencer had felt strange since the morning.

 Energized and excited. In the absolute best possible way.

That day, he could finally take her home. Well, to his apartment. She needed someone to take care of her, and he felt honored to be that person.

The day before, he had made a very important, yet difficult decision. He invited JJ over and confessed everything to her—about the past few weeks and his struggles with relapsing into addiction. He needed to rid himself of that burden. Besides, he had promised himself that as long as she was living with him, not even the smallest dose of Dilaudid would find its way inside. Never again.

In his worst moments, he imagined that his friend would react with disgust—pure, painful disgust—and push him away. Instead, her eyes filled with something strange the moment he began to speak about how he had felt after Emily's death. Over and over, she whispered apologies, as though she were the one responsible for it.

He still missed Emily, of course, and he knew he would always miss her. That was just the way of things—people left, and it was up to you to decide whether you would remember them with heartbreaking despair or with a wistful sigh. In fact, these were merely two ends of the same spectrum, and it was very easy to get stuck at the beginning, unable to move forward.

She was surprisingly quiet in the car and seemed depressed. Actually, it was hard not to blame her. She had spent a long time in the hospital, gotten used to that routine, and the change made her feel lost. Sitting in the passenger seat, she kept her gaze fixed ahead, but not on the road. She couldn’t see where they were headed, which made it difficult for Spencer to tell her something… at least important.

 When they stopped, she furrowed her brow in surprise.

 “Why are we here?”

They were parked under his apartment, and she had been under the impression they were heading to her place.

 “Sorry, I should’ve told you earlier, I really apologize,” Spencer blurted out in one breath, chaotically. “I absolutely realize that this is like putting you in a situation you didn’t expect, but… but when you were in the hospital, Jude found herself a new roommate. She didn’t really know how to tell you, but she had to do it because she couldn’t afford the rent on her own.”

For a long moment, she stared at him in silence, her face a mixture of shock, followed by understanding. She took a deep breath.

 “Okay,” she muttered. “I understand her, I just… I don’t understand why she didn’t tell me this herself.”

Their relationship still remained deeply complicated, put to the test by guilt. Spencer couldn’t say much about it. It was something between the two of them, and he hardly knew Jude at all.

 “I’m also sorry for asking you this so late,” he continued after a moment. “But… you can’t live alone, you know that. Someone… someone needs to be with you over the next few weeks and… I’m willing to be that person.”

Her lips remained slightly parted for a moment.

“You want… no, wait, you want me to move in with you?” It was clearly a rhetorical question, because before he could answer, she started shaking her head. “Spencer, I can’t. I can’t be that burden for you.”

“A burden? You’re not…”

“But I will be. In the next few weeks, I definitely will be.”

He took his hands off the steering wheel, placing them loosely on his knees.

“Can you… can you look at me for a moment?” he asked.

It took a moment before she hesitantly met his gaze. Her eyes were filled with embarrassed tears, tears full of unjust shame. Seeing this, pain spread through his chest.

“If the accident hadn’t happened, would you want to live with me?”

 Her lips remained pressed together, and she sighed.

 “It’s a big decision. Aside from the fact that if it weren’t for the accident, I wouldn’t even have to consider this option…”

“I just want to know if you would want to. Don’t think of it as an option, just as… a completely normal, life decision. Do you think you’d be able to handle having me around every day?”

She couldn’t help it, and her lips curled into a slight smile.

“We could try,” she finally replied.

Spencer straightened his arms.

“In that case, let’s go inside.”

 “No, wait, it’s not that simple! My opinion shouldn’t matter; it’s you who needs to think about whether you want this…”

 “I do.”

She snorted, resigned, not knowing what else to say.

“I can’t even tie my own shoes,” she tried one last time.

“I’ll gladly do it for you. What’s more, I know all kinds of knots. Simple, sailor’s, Chinese…”

“Spencer Reid, you’re impossible.”

For the rest of the day, she tried every possible way to talk him out of his decision. But when she finally accepted it, she struggled to accept his help with tasks she couldn’t do on her own.

 It wasn’t until later that he realized how much she had been pretending in the hospital. He had only seen her for a fraction of her day, and she seemed so positive then. But this temporary disability had really taken a toll on her mentally. He could repeat and assure her, completely sincerely, that she wasn’t a burden to him, but deep down, she still believed otherwise.

So, when two days later, she timidly appeared in the bedroom doorway with the question of whether he could help her wash her hair, Spencer felt like he had won the lottery.

“Sure,” he agreed, probably a bit too enthusiastically, jumping to his feet so quickly that he almost tripped.

She pretended not to notice.

In the bathroom, he slowly helped her pull the shirt over her head, careful not to catch it on the collar still around her neck or accidentally cause her any pain. 

“Be careful not to tilt your head too much, okay?” he asked, wetting her hair with the showerhead. She closed her eyes when a few drops of water splashed onto them. “Sorry!”

“For god's sake, Spencer, you're doing it more carefully than I would have done myself.”

It was true; he was acting as if he were performing some task at work that required absolute precision. He shrugged, massaging the strawberry shampoo into her hair. Foam quickly appeared, smelling sweet.

Suddenly, her hands tightened around the front of his shirt.

“Sorry,” she whispered, loosening her grip. “I got a little dizzy.”

Spencer immediately pressed his hands, still covered in shampoo, to her waist, afraid she might fall. He stared at her face for a long moment, waiting for the dizziness to pass.

And just then, her body suddenly went limp, falling forward.

Terrified, he let out a strangled cry.

“Hold on, please, don’t fall!” he kept repeating, doing everything he could to keep her upright.

Her hands hung limply on his shoulders, the foam and water soaking into his shirt, but he didn’t care at all.

“I’m right here, hold on to me as much as you can. C-c-can you hear me at all?”

He wondered whether it would be better to stand her up or lay her down while he could get to the phone and call an ambulance, when suddenly her weak touch grew stronger, and she let out a soft groan.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t you dare apologizing. I’m still holding you, can you hear me?”

His heart was pounding incredibly fast as she gently pulled her head away from his chest. He, of course, didn’t let her stand on her own, constantly supporting her body, protecting her from a fall that could be disastrous.

Together, they left the shower cabin, her hair still covered in foam.

“Are you aware that this is how it’s going to look now?” she asked seriously.

Completely unfazed, he wiped the foam from her forehead, which was dangerously close to her eyes.

“I’d rather have you lose consciousness in my bathroom, right next to me, than risk… I don’t know, cracking your head open.”

For a moment, she was silent, the color beginning to return to her pale face, her gaze becoming more alert. He had a strange feeling that she was about to start crying, and since he really didn’t want that, he pulled her close again, in his usual protective gesture. Everything around them smelled of strawberries.

“Do you really have to be this good?”

Spencer snorted.

“I’m afraid it’s just my curse.”

*

“Are these people really arguing about whether a cucumber is a fruit or a vegetable?”

Sitting on the couch, you jumped when a voice spoke right behind you. At the last second, you caught your laptop before it slipped off your lap. You had been reading some absurd discussion on an online forum you stumbled upon completely by accident. And yes, these users were indeed arguing about whether a cucumber is a fruit or a vegetable.

“Damn it, Spencer!” you shouted, putting your hand over your heart, which was pounding in an agitated rhythm. You looked at your boyfriend with a scowl. “You almost gave me a heart attack. How is it possible I didn’t hear you come in?”

He shrugged. Leaning his elbows on the back of the couch, the rolled-up sleeves of his shirt revealed the skin of his forearms. In that position, he had a perfect view of the screen on your laptop. He had just returned from work, a rainy July evening, his hair slightly damp.

“I wasn’t sneaking around. You must’ve just been lost in thought. Want to tell me what’s occupying that beautiful mind of yours?” He leaned in to place a kiss on your temple.

“Beautiful mind, huh?” you repeated, raising an eyebrow. “Just a few days ago, you told me that if a 19th-century priest heard even one thought from my head, he’d go into anaphylactic shock. Whatever that was supposed to mean.”

"In a big simplification, what I meant is that even though I love you, sometimes your way of thinking scares me."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"By the way, I bought land for Alexander."

Alexander was your new flycatcher, which had grown so much that it completely prevented the other flowers on the windowsill from growing. Due to its conqueror tendencies, you decided to name it after one of them.

"Do you want to repot it into a new pot now...?"

"No. Now you need to come to me."

You set the laptop aside and waited for him to take a seat on the couch. Before fully snuggling into him, you untied and removed the tie from his neck, then unbuttoned the first few buttons of his shirt, just the way you liked.

You sighed almost instantly; his body was more comfortable than a pillow. Warm, with your favorite scent. You rested your head on his chest as his fingers gently combed through your hair.

In the first few weeks after you were discharged from the hospital, you couldn’t even sleep in the same bed. There was a risk that, in his sleep, he might accidentally bump into your neck and cause damage. Spencer enforced that rule strictly, as he did with every precaution related to your health.

Six months had passed since the accident, and for the past four months, you hadn’t worn a neck brace or needed help with daily tasks. But that didn’t change the fact that, sometimes, when you showered together, he would wash your hair just like he used to. Anyway, you were still attending rehabilitation and would need to for a long time, but despite that, you felt like you had fully returned to normal life.

You lifted yourself slightly to look at his face.

"I was walking to the bar today," you began.

You’d been considering going back to work for a while now, and the doctors had assured you there was no reason you couldn’t. You wanted something to occupy your hands and craved the sense of purpose that came with a task. You’d mentioned it to Spencer long ago, so he didn’t seem surprised when you brought it up.

"And? Will they take you back?"

"No. I mean, it’s not that they don’t want to, I just didn’t get there. That’s why I said I was walking and not that I went to a bar. Are you following?"

"I'm trying."

"So, listen to this. I took the subway and got off at that station near the room I used to rent."

The landlord had asked for the keys back shortly after your accident. Your arrangement had been that, in exchange for using the space, you cleaned it daily. Of course, you hadn’t been able to keep up with that anymore.

"...And I don't know, I was overwhelmed by this strange feeling, like I wanted to go back to it. Helping people."

"You help people all the time," Spencer reminded you. "All our neighbors come to you to vent about everything happening in their lives."

"That's true, but I mean, you know, professional help," you said, taking a deeper breath. You couldn't decide whether you were more excited or nervous about the decision. "I've been thinking about going back to uni, Spencer."

He straightened up, almost causing you to slide off his chest. Filled with tension, you watched his reaction closely. You’d spent the entire day wondering what he might say. Would he share your enthusiasm and support your plans, or would he try to talk you out of it, reasoning that you’d dropped out of school once and might not manage it again?

These thoughts were incredibly silly. Spencer—knowledge-obsessed, ever-curious Spencer—would never say something like that.

Instead, he pulled you into a tight embrace, whispering how incredible the idea was. You melted into it completely, feeling more elated than ever and unable to stop thinking about the crazy chain of cause and effect that had led to this specific moment, this particular relationship, and above all, this exact happiness. 

do you accept this overly sweet ending as my apology? :> tagging: @nightfullofparadox @lillaberry @fortheloveofgubler @opheliahotchner @cowboy1ikereid @penelopegarciaismygf

sorry if i forgot about someone!

[novankenn]

( Inspired by THIS post by @pilot-boi )

"a Mafia AU"

Pyrrha Nikos was absolutely stunned how things had turned out, and none of it made a fucking lick of sense. First there was the hit. Who the hell puts a hit on the Arcs? Seriously the large unassuming family, and she meant that in the literal sense owned a vineyard! They made wine! Mind you really good wine. But still! It made no sense.

Then there was the target. Jaune Arc. If he and his family were faunus, Pyrrha would bet without hesitation they would all be "Golden Retriever" faunus. The kid, even though he was the same age as Pyrrha, was dense, oblivious, cute, air headed. WAIT! Did she just call her intended target, CUTE?

Shaking her head, she tried to get the thought out of her head, only for traitorous mind to replace "cute" with "loveable". Pyrrha sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration.

"How did this simple job get so, complicated?" she complained to herself, even though she was currently calling in a cleaning crew do deal with the current mess she was standing in the middle of. They had been a small crew of three mid-tiers. Good enough to take out an obvious idiot of a target, but not even in the ball-park of Pyrrha.

This was getting out of hand. These gals were like the fifth attempt that Pyrrha had to step in and quash. She wanted to say she was just protecting her VERY impressive payday, but she also couldn't suppress the slight hint of anger with herself for being unable to finish the contract, but instead had become the adorable moron's.

"Argh!" she growled in frustration. She had done it again! Applying "lovey-dovey" terms to a target! Her target!

"Ms Nikos." came the monotone, but respective tone of Cardin, leader of team CRDL. Pyrrha didn't like their attitude, she in fact despised Cardin for his reported... proclivities with faunus. But the fact remained they were the best of any cleaning crew.

"Here." Pyrrha handed over a set of golden tokens. It was an unusual system. Each token was valued at a set amount, and were used at a "distributor" to receive the actual lien payment for services rendered. "Trust the normal rate applied for a multi."

"It does." Cardin replied, as he put the tokens into his pocket. "We'll take it from here."

Nodding Pyrrha, moved off, power walking out to the crowded streets of Vale, intent on finding her quarry and ending this job. She had delayed long enough, it was time to...

"I'm never going to be able to pull the trigger." she lamented to herself. "How many times has it been? Every fucking time, I hesitate and just let him walk away!"

Pulling out her scroll, she activated the trace app. She had been able to tag his scroll, which he NEVER turned off, and could find him where ever he was. Wait this was saying he was right BEHIND HER! Pyrrha whipped around, and sure enough Jaune was standing behind her, a loveable dopey smile on his face.

"Here." he continued to smile as he handed her an ice cream cone. A literal ice cream cone! "Seen you around a lot, and you always seem stressed, so I figure this might take your mind off whatever is bother you."

"Seen me around?" Pyrrha's mind was a whirl with questions. How did this idiotic adorable moron, notice her around!

"Yep. You know if you're going to be my new bodyguard, you might as well just walk around with me, instead of hiding. I mean I get it, but it feel funny."

Pyrrha was dumb founded. The Dense, oblivious cutie thought she was hired to protect him, and not off him! With her mind in shock she reached out and accepted the ice.

"I hope vanilla is okay?" Jaune commented, as Pyrrha gave her cone a lick. "If not I can go get another flavor."

"Vanilla is fine." Pyrrha replied

[f1amour]

heyyy! can i request “i’m scared of losing you” (from angst1) with oscar piastri?

❝ i’m scared of losing you ❞ — oscar piastri

pairing | oscar piastri x reader

content warnings | lots of miscommunication, angst, comfort, happy ending

★ JOIN MY SHORT N SWEET FRIENDSGIVING !

─────────────────────────

it had been a few months since you last attended a race due to your job obligations but in oscar’s eyes he only saw it as one thing; you’ve missed him winning a race, twice now.

in his eyes he thought you may no longer love him that he wasn’t worth enough for you. however, in your eyes you believed he no longer loved you especially due to his lack of presence in your life and never asking you to join him for a race weekend in months. both of you afraid to lose each other didn’t touch on the subject and living as if everything is okay.

until it wasn’t.

“i may not win another race this season but i would appreciate your support! you weren’t there for my two wins and i…i’m tired of this,” oscar argued back, you had both gone out to dinner in monaco after he returned from singapore. it started with a sweet conversation of what to do for the break to now bitter comments towards each other.

“tired of what? of me? i’m trying, oscar. i just started my third year of university and then work—.”

“work! it’s always work this work that. they always need you for something even though it’s not even in your title to do all that! you drop everything to be there for them but you can’t be there for me not even once…baby?” his mean words hit you immediately and you sit on the couch of your apartment hands covering your face as you sob uncontrollably.

“baby, yn…hey, hey breathe with me. it’s okay i’m here” oscar whispers on your ear, both arms cradling you now. was it okay? his approach may not have been the best but he wasn’t wrong. your job had been putting too much on your plate when you were meant to just be an underpaid intern who was doing multiple jobs that were not your responsibility.

“but you aren’t here, osc. i…i know that your career is demanding but you didn’t take a second to look back and realize i ease being left behind. i feel guilty i wasn’t there for your two wins especially your first. i begged my job to let me just visit you for a day to celebrate but they made me stay. it wasn’t even my day to work and i still stayed. i chose a job that doesn’t value me over you…you do care about me maybe not right now—.”

“i’m gonna stop you right there. i’m an idiot who didn’t bother asking how you’ve been recently and expecting you to support me more when i didn’t see what you’d been going through. i’m so sorry,” he whispers, his forehead pressed against yours kissing your tears away.

you whisper out five words you’d been feeling for awhile now, “i’m scared of losing you,” closing your eyes ready for oscar to say you’ve already lost him, “i’m scared too.” his voice matches your vulnerability.

opening your eyes looking at him in shock, “you are?” you felt like you were both taking a big step in admitting this. maybe, just maybe this would help in repairing your relationship.

“i am. i think we’ve been selfish towards each other but we also haven’t communicated right. i should have asked you more about how the job was treating you-,”

“i should have asked you how the team had been treating you.” you counter back and he chuckles.

“i know you want to be independent when it comes to your career. but i think you should quit that job and focus on school only. i know you don’t want me to take care of you financially but just let me do that for now until you graduate and find a job that will value the skills you have. i can’t lose us. i can’t lose you, yn. i love you.” his words filled with nothing but love, oscar meant well and for once you decide to take him up on the offer he’d been giving you since you started dating two years ago.

“okay.” a simple word replacing your frown into a smile on each others faces. there was work to do on your communication with each other but for now you both got to breathe a sigh of relief after facing a fear that would no longer happen.

[punksyeet]

ᰔᩚ Starstruck ᰔᩚ

Plot: Gianna Nicole (OC) is the main character in a huge blockbuster film. When Josh, who has the biggest crush that you could possibly have on a celebrity, finds out about a way to meet the cast, he jumps at the opportunity. And let’s just say that, by the end of the night, his dream girl isn’t such a dream anymore.

Warning: Hefty flirting & lots of smut!

** Josh's POV **

"Morning lovebirds," I sing while hopping in the back seat of my brother and his wife’s SUV.

Trin giggles before matching my energy. "Good morning brotherrrr!"

"Morning uce," Jon replies, reaching back and doing our handshake. “You ready for today?"

Around a year ago, a romance/action movie named "Life in the Fast Lane" came out and it quickly became one of our favorites to watch together as a group.

Today, Netflix is hosting a preview of the sequel that's coming out in about two weeks.

It includes a watch party, food, drinks, and we even get to meet the cast from the movie on our way out.

"Hell yeah," I reply, buckling my seatbelt.

"He's ready to see his womannnn!" Trin teases, looking back and wiggling her eyebrows.

Jon snickers and I nod, not even denying it.

One of the main actresses from the movie, Gianna Nicole, will be at the event.

Since the movie came out, I've had the fattest crush on her.

"Damn right!" I reply, dancing in my seat.

We all share a laugh along with some jam sessions and small talk on the rest of the way to the theatre.

—————————————————————————————————

The movie just ended and it's time to meet the cast.

"There she is," Trin says just above a whisper, as we watch Gianna interact with a fan from afar.

I turn to them, running a hand through my freshly cut mullet. "How do I look?"

Jon bursts into laughter and Trin playfully whacks him.

"You look good Josh," she reassures me, brushing off my collar. "You've got this."

I nod and walk on over to the back of the line in front of Gianna’s table.

As it gets shorter, I feel my heart race faster and faster.

Soon enough, the person that was once in front of me shares a hug with her and walks away, allowing security to let me through.

Once we make eye contact, she stops in her tracks and tilts her head.

As if she’s putting the thought aside, she shakes her head quickly.

"Heyy!" she coos sweetly, holding out her hand.

"Hi," I reply, taking and shaking it. "I'm Josh."

"It's so nice to meet you," she exclaims, smiling. "Thanks for coming."

"Thanks for having me," I reply, smiling back.

Fuck. She's even more gorgeous in person.

"Aw thank you," she says shyly, blushing and looking down.

Josh you fucking idiot!

"Oh god I-I'm sorry," I say, mentally face palming myself. "I must've been thinking out loud."

She chuckles. "It's alright. I appreciate the compliment anyway."

I laugh awkwardly, looking back at Jon and Trin.

They're interacting with another actor and, as if the twin connection is stronger than ever, Jon looks over at me and gives me a thumbs up.

I nod quickly and look back at Gianna, who's signing a movie ticket - one of the collectibles they're giving away.

I thank her once she hands it to me.

"Anytime Jey," she replies, smiling and capping her Sharpie.

I stop in my tracks. "You know who I am?"

She chuckles lightly. "Of course! I'm a huge fan of WWE. It took me a second to realize it was really you though."

"Always nice to meet a fan," I reply with a wink.

She playfully rolls her eyes and flashes a gorgeous smile. "For both of us I'd say."

We share a laugh and take a picture.

"Thanks so much for this," I coo, as we share one final hug.

"Of course," she exclaims, pulling away. "It was awesome to meet you."

"You too," I reply.

We exchange smiles and I walk outside, where my brother and sister in law are waiting.

"Sooo," Jon begins, walking over with Trin once the door to the building closes and we're out of earshot. "How'd it go?"

I smile, shrugging. "Pretty well. She's a fan of WWE and recognized me."

"Shut up!" Trin squeals in shock.

I chuckle and look back, watching Gianna through the clear glass window. "I was surprised too. I just hope she comes to one of the shows or something."

She looks back and, once we make eye contact, smiles and waves.

I do the same and she goes back to her conversation with the final fan in line.

"Trin and I are gonna go get the car," Jon exclaims, taking his keys out of his pocket. "You wanna stay here or?"

He nods toward inside when saying that last part.

I nod as well, sliding my hands into my jean pockets. "Sure, you guys go. I'll be here."

He nods, claps me on the back, grabs Trin's hand, and they walk off towards the parking garage.

I lean against the building and scroll on my phone until, moments later, I hear the door open.

I look over and see the woman of my dreams once again.

"Oh," she begins. "Hey again!"

I flash her a smile. "Hey. Your meet n greet over?"

"Yeah just about," she replies, putting her hands in her jacket pockets. "Technically there's still five minutes left, but that was my last fan and I figured I should head home early while I have the chance, you know?"

I nod. "I get you."

Awkward silence, with just the faint sound of Atlanta traffic up the street, takes over before she speaks up again.

She smiles and nods as well, before taking a deep breath. "Well, it was nice seeing you again."

"Yeah you too," I reply as she starts to walk off.

Come on Josh. You've got this bro.

"Hey! Wait up!" I call, making her turn around.

"Yeah?" she asks, slowly strolling back.

I take another deep breath.

"W-would uh," I stutter.

She smiles softly, tilting her head.

Get it together uce!

"I was just wondering if you'd....like to go out sometime?"

She raises an eyebrow and smiles wider. "You? Wanna go out with me?"

I blink a few times before responding. "Y-yeah. Unless you don't want to. Then that's fine. I just wanted to ask b-"

"I'd love to," she responds, cutting me off before chuckling.

Thank god.

I let out a sigh of relief and smile. "Good. Great. Uh how about tonight? I know some nice spots here in Atlanta if you need some showing around."

She nods. "Sure. That sounds nice."

We hand each other our phones and exchange numbers, as well as her hotel address.

"Awesome," I exclaim, as we share another hug. "I'll see you tonight."

"See you then!" she calls as she's walking away.

I catch a nice glimpse of her ass before being rudely interrupted by my brother, who's calling me from the curb.

"Shut up! I'm coming!"

—————————————————————————————————

** Gianna's POV **

I picked out a casual but still chic outfit for tonight: a black corset, some ripped jeans with a Gucci belt, panda dunks to match Josh, some cute jewelry, and a black purse.

I touch up my hair in my hotel bathroom mirror and spray some of my favorite perfume: Into the Night by Bath and Body Works.

I'm actually really excited about this "date" that Josh is taking me on.

I've been a fan of him and his twin for a while now.

The only thing is, I don't have the best history with guys.

They've all just kinda used me for my looks and lost interest once they found out that I'm not some rich Hollywood snob.

So I definitely plan on treading lightly tonight.

Anyway, I genuinely hope that Josh is different.

I really like him.

And he gets bonus points for being fine as hell. Duh!

My text tone shakes me out of my thoughts and I smile when I see who it is.

Josh 🫦: Hey love. I'm outside.

Gianna 😮‍💨: Heyy I'll be right there! 🫶🏽

Josh liked "Heyy I'll be right there! 🫶🏽"

I do some final touches to my appearance, grab my bag, and head out.

"Hey girl," Josh coos, scanning my body up and down. "You look amazing."

I smile and blush lightly. "Thank you. You do too."

He smiles and wraps me into a hug, to which I respond with my arms around his waist and my head on his chest.

God he smells incredible.

Once we pull away, he opens the passenger door for me and takes my hand, helping me in.

"Such a gentleman," I tease, flicking my hair back.

He smirks goofily and kisses my hand, causing us both to share a laugh.

Soon enough, he hops in as well and we're off.

The car ride is so much fun, filled with small talk and our favorite songs playing.

—————————————————————————————————

Josh took me to, what he called, all of the top spots in Atlanta.

From Atlanta Botanical Garden, to World of Coca Cola, and even Piedmonts Park, everything was such a blast.

We're ending our night out with his personal favorite place: Waffle House.

He orders us his go-to: two waffles with chocolate chips, six scrambled eggs with cheese, & triple scattered and covered hash browns.

"And for your drinks?" the waiter asks, after jotting down our order on his notepad.

I look over at Josh, signaling him to hook me up with that as well.

He chuckles and looks back at the man. "We'll do four lemonades please."

"You got it," the younger man replies, taking our menus.

Once he walks away, I raise an eyebrow out of curiosity.

"Yup four," Josh says, as if he could read my mind. "All that food makes you extra thirsty, you know what I mean?"

"Ah," I reply, nodding my head slowly.

He smiles and looks back up once the waiter returns with our lemonades.

"Thanks uce," Josh says, sliding two over to me.

"No problem," the man says, patting him on the shoulder. "Your food will be out shortly."

"They love you here," I exclaim, twisting off the cap.

He chuckles and nods. "Yeah I'm here all the time. My entire family loves it here. Even my kids."

I raise my eyebrows and take a sip of my drink. "Kids?"

He nods. "Yeah I got two of 'em. Two boys. Jeyce and Jaciyah. They're my world."

I smile, tilting my head. "That's so sweet."

He smiles back.

I take a deep breath before speaking up again. "And their mom?"

He sighs. "We were together since high school and mutually divorced about a year ago. The distance with my work wasn't really working out."

I nod understandably.

"I think it's hard on them sometimes," he continues. "The whole split parents thing. But they're great."

I give him a soft smile. "Yeah I get it. My parents split up when I was young too. It's not easy."

He nods and gently bites his lower lip.

"But they have a great dad to keep them grounded," I continue, taking his hand from across the table.

He looks into my eyes and flashes me a gorgeous smile. "Thank you, Gi."

I smile back, nodding. "Sure."

He looks back down at our hands and strokes mine with his thumb.

The faint sound of other patrons' silverware hitting their plates takes over before he speaks up again.

"What about you?" he asks, breaking the comfortable silence. "Any kids or anything?"

I shake my head, biting the inside of my cheek. "Nah nothing like that. Though I think it'd be nice someday."

He nods his head, still stroking my hand.

"I guess I just never met the right person," I say just above a whisper.

We lock eyes, resulting in me blushing like a maniac.

He chuckles. "Well sometimes, the right person can be found in the places you least expect them."

I nod and tilt my head. "Like at a Waffle House?"

He chuckles, nodding. "Like at a Waffle House."

I join in and, as if on cue, the waiter comes back with our food.

We dig in and let me just say: I get the hype!

—————————————————————————————————

Josh and I just pulled up back to my hotel.

Once again, he opens the passenger door for me and leads me into the building and to my room.

"You wanna stay for a little while?" I ask, fishing my room key out of my purse.

He shakes his head. "Nah, I really shouldn't. Uce and I got a flight early tomorrow morning and his wife would kill me if we're late."

I chuckle, nodding. "Understandable."

He takes a deep breath before breaking the silence. "You plan on coming to any shows soon?"

I shrug while inserting the key and opening my door. "I haven't thought about it, to be honest."

Another gorgeous smile grows on his face. "Say the words and I'll book you the next flight out. I'd kill to see you again, baby."

I lean against the doorway and fold my arms across my chest, raising an eyebrow. "Baby, huh? Are you flirting with me, Joshua Fatu?"

"Maybe I am," he replies, cupping my face and stroking my cheek with his thumb.

I shake my head and wrap my arms around his neck, playing with his curls. "You really are something else."

"And you love it," he replies sexily, trailing his hands down my sides.

I roll my eyes playfully and giggle as he pulls me closer and places his lips on mine.

I automatically kiss back, standing on my tippy toes as his hands roam down to my lower back, dangerously close to my ass.

With every stroke, I fall deeper and deeper in love.

He's most definitely the one.

He has to be.

It’s a real nice kiss and, not gonna lie, I was pretty bummed when it ended.

"Mmm," Josh moans against my lips, slowly pulling away from me. "On second thought, I could always drive back home in the morning."

I giggle, still playing with his hair. "Are you sure? I don't want your sister in law to hate me before we even get the chance to meet."

He chuckles and pecks my lips, stroking my sides. "I'm sure, baby. Let's go inside. I'm tryna have a good ole night witchu."

I smirk and take his hand, leading us into my hotel room, and he shuts and locks the door behind us.

"Make yourself at home," I exclaim, tossing my purse aside. "I'm gonna change out of these clothes."

He nods, sitting on the sofa. "Aight, love. I'll be here. Take your time."

I shoot him a soft smile and head into the bedroom.

After about a minute or two of looking through my luggage, I find a cute and comfy pajama set.

I change and head into the connected bathroom to do my nighttime routine - including taking off my makeup and throwing my hair into a bun.

I walk back out to the living room space and Josh looks up from his phone when he sees me, immediately scanning my body while licking his lips.

"I know you ain't lookin that good in some damn pajamas," he compliments, tossing his phone aside.

I playfully roll my eyes and take a seat on the couch next to him. "Thank you."

"Nah girl," he says, patting his lap. "This right here is the spot."

I giggle and give in, throwing my leg across him and straddling him.

"Happy?" I ask sarcastically, leaning into him and wrapping my arms around his neck.

He hums in approval, nodding and immediately grabbing handfuls of my ass. "I got the baddest chick in the world on my lap.

I smirk and kiss the corner of his mouth. "I don't know about in the world, but I'll take it."

"Girl bring yo ass-" he places his lips on mine, resuming our steamy kiss from earlier.

I giggle against his lips, immediately tangling my fingers in his curls and adding tongue.

He lets out a deep and sexy moan, as our tongues fight for dominance.

Of course, his wins.

Soon enough, without breaking the kiss, he gets up, bringing me with him.

Knowing what's coming next, I wrap my legs around his waist and deepen the kiss, holding either side of his face.

When we get into the bedroom, he sits down on my bed and breaks us apart, both of us breathing heavily and panting.

"Baby," he begins, stroking my thighs. "I know what you was saying earlier at dinner. You mentioned wanting to take things slow?"

I sigh deeply, playing with his chain. "I wanted to. But after today, I trust you Josh."

He smiles as if he's relieved. "You sure?"

I nod, biting my lip and giving him a soft smile. "You took such good care of me today. I loved every second of my time with you. And none of that is anything I'm used to."

He nods understandably, cupping and stroking my face.

"I know we just met," I continue. "But I wanna go all the way with you. You're different, Joshua. And I love that."

He smirks and kisses my cheek. "I promise to take care of you, baby. If you'll let me."

I nod, sliding my hands up his chest and onto his shoulders. "I trust you, daddy."

He raises an eyebrow. "Daddy, huh?"

I blush and lean in, pressing our lips together once more.

He automatically kisses back, picks us up again, and lays me down on the bed.

** smut warning! **

Breaking the kiss once again, he stands up, discards everything except his boxers, and tosses everything across the room.

Fuck he's gorgeous.

I prop myself up on my elbows and bite my lip, admiring his cultural tattoos.

"I think I'm a little overdressed," I say, just above a whisper. "Help me?"

He licks his lips and reaches down to peel off my top and bottoms, leaving me in only my pink lace panties.

"Fuck," he mutters under his breath. "Look atchu, baby."

I stare deep into his eyes, which scan my entire body and land on the pool between my legs.

"Soaked for me already, hm?"

I let out a breathless moan as he kneels down and strokes my folds back and forth with his thumb.

"Your moans are so gorgeous," he compliments, and kisses each of my thighs.

I can't help but slide my own hand into my underwear and pleasure myself.

He chuckles deviously. "Greedy little girl, aren't you?"

"D-daddy I need you," I manage to say, rubbing tiny circles onto my clit.

"You got me baby," he replies and slowly pulls down my panties, finally leaving me fully nude.

He practically drools at the sight he's brought with.

"Pretty ass pussy," he practically moans, stroking my thighs. "Spread that shit for me, princess."

I do so with my index and middle fingers, spreading open my lips.

He feathers light kisses onto my pearl, before darting out his tongue and giving my clit a singular lick.

"Daddyyyy!" I whine, wrapping my fingers in his dreamy curls. "Stop teasing meee!"

Just then, he catches me off guard and shoves his face between my legs.

Moans uncontrollably leave my mouth and my back immediately arches as his tongue flicks and lips suck desperately.

Just minutes later, I feel a pit in my stomach, signaling that I'm slowly but surely hitting my climax.

"J-Josh," I manage to get out between moans. "B-baby I'm gonna-"

And before I can finish my sentence, I've released not only in his mouth, but all over his beard.

"Cum," I mutter, finishing my sentence.

He chuckles and licks me clean before heading back up to me.

"You taste incredible baby," he coos, and presses his lips to mine.

I automatically kiss back and moan at the sweet taste of my essence, wrapping my arms around his neck.

I tug on his bottom lip gently before pulling away.

"Lay back handsome," I demand, crawling down to his waist.

"Mmm," he moans, slapping my ass. "Go get yo dick, baby."

I rub his hard on through his boxers as he watches on, stroking my hair.

I pull them down slowly, allowing his massive dick to spring free.

My jaw practically drops at his size.

At least 8 inches, so veiny, and the most perfect bright pink tip.

Not wasting a second, I grab it by the base and trail kisses up and down his length.

"Fuuuuck," I hear him whisper, throwing his head back.

I smirk and start adding tongue, swirling my tongue around the tip and eventually sucking him off.

He grabs a fistful of my hair and takes control, bobbing my head up and down.

I immediately gag once he reaches the back of my throat, letting the utmost amount of saliva drip down to his balls.

"Fuck," I mutter, jacking him off once my mouth is empty again. "Daddy you're huge."

He smiles at the compliment and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. "You're doing so good, ma."

I bite my lip and immediately go back to pleasuring him, this time sucking his balls.

His hips jerk at the feeling, deep and sexy moans uncontrollably pouring out of him.

"That's it baby," he whispers. "Getcho nut."

Just then, an idea comes to me.

I scoot up and wrap his dick in between my breasts, and start bouncing up and down.

"Shit," he mutters.

"Wanna feel them daddy?" I offer, before sticking my tongue out and letting saliva drip down my chest.

He smirks and sits up.

"Fuck baby," he moans, massaging them and toying with my now rock hard nipples. "They're so soft."

I blush at the compliment and start bouncing again, making direct eye contact with him.

About another minute goes by before, without warning, he releases all over my chest and breasts, his dick twitching from the after effects.

I scoop some up with my finger and suck on it repeatedly, cleaning myself up.

"You're wild girl," he coos, sitting up and pulling me in by my hips, making me stand between his legs.

"Mmm and you love that," I reply, wrapping my arms around his neck.

He puckers his lips and I gladly accept, leaning down and placing my lips on his.

We only share a quick peck, before he takes one of my nipples into his mouth.

I moan, throwing my head back and running my fingers through his mullet.

"P-please," I whine, as he reaches down and starts stroking my clit some more.

He hums, pulling his face away after placing a kiss on my left areola. "Please what baby?"

I can't manage to get a singular word out, as I'm practically riding his fingers.

"Talk to daddy," he demands, stopping them.

"I-I nee-need you inside me s-so badly Josh," I say in between moans, still grinding my hips.

"Good girl," he coos, and pulls my hips down, making me hover over him.

I reach down, line his dick up with my pussy, and carefully sit down on it.

"Oh fuck," he whispers, grabbing and caressing my ass. "Mama you're so tight."

"And you're so big," I say breathlessly, holding onto his shoulders for support.

We lean in and share a quick kiss before he starts moving.

"Feels good baby?" he reassures.

"Uh huh," I moan in reply, massaging my tits with my head thrown back.

He smirks and kisses my cheek.

"F-faster please da-addy," I stutter. "F-fuck me faster."

"You got it sexy girl," he replies, and starts thrusting harder and faster, bouncing me up and down by my ass.

"Oh yes!" I practically scream, burying my face into his neck.

"Fuck," he mutters, as the strokes become more sloppy and louder.

"Sit up baby," he demands. "I gotta cum."

I shake my head, bouncing some more. "Cum in me, daddy. Please."

His mouth drops open. "A-are you sure?"

I nod quickly in response. "I'm on b-birth control, baby. Fill m-me up please."

"Alright," he gives in. "But you gotta cum with me, baby. Deal?"

"U-uh huh," I reply, reaching down and rubbing fast circles on my clit.

Soon enough, we both explode all over each other.

** smut over! **

I climb off of him and fall onto the bed.

He smiles softly, rubbing deep circles into my back dimples. "You feel good, baby?"

I nod, my mouth still hanging open.

He chuckles and squeezes my cheeks gently.

He brings my face up to his and allows our lips to meet once more.

"Mmm," I moan into his mouth breathlessly before pulling away. "You're amazing, you know that?"

"Me?" he asks, placing a hand on his chest dramatically. "Girl you're incredible.”

I blush lightly as he continues to compliment me in between kisses.

"How does a bath sound?" he asks, stroking my face with his knuckle.

"Like heaven," I reply, dreamily staring into his eyes and stroking his hair.

He smiles and places a kiss on my lower lip before getting up.

I watch on as his fat and firm ass walks away and disappears into the bathroom.

We spend the rest of the night stealing more kisses from each other, making more small talk, and just overall enjoying each other.

I truly don't think I've ever felt this way for anyone - not recently anyway.

"Get some rest mama," Josh coos before kissing my hair.

I smile, stroking his chest, which my head is laid on as well. "Goodnight, love."

Soon enough, we both doze off to sleep to the sound of each other's breathing.

Is it possible to be in love with someone you only met 12 hours ago?

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[str4wberrysw4n]

TIME TO YAPP 🎀

I named him zach, mainly as a "placeholder," but i don't care if his name is different in the 3d. he's taller than me, pale skin, brown eyes, with his dark hair in a wolfcut style. we met on the first day of school and i thought he was so cute. but i was too nervous to talk to him, until we got paired up for a project. zach was so goofy and fun, and even after it ended, he still wanted to talk to me and ended up taking my number. his whole wardrobe is kind of like a 2000s rapper mixed with opiumcore. baggy jeans, wife beaters, chains, all that shi (and he looks so fine in them 🩷) zachy looks really scary when u first meet him (ngl he can be if u piss him off), but he's generally just a big teddy bear ( ˘ ³˘) he is one of the sweetest people i've ever met and the best choice for my first bf :D he's always there to help me and listens to me when i vent abt shi that's bothering me. ik it sounds like the standard, but trust me, it's above the standard for a teenage boy...he also just has the EXACT same humor as me. bro is literally just me as the opposite gender ong 🙏 like one time i texted "hawk tuah 🔥" for literally no reason and his response was "ur very very SPECIAL 💜" (in revenge, i didn't give him any cheek kisses for a whole day  (｀ω´*)) another thing is that he let's me practice braiding his hair. my mommy never learnt how to braid hair from her mother and so struggled a lot with mine. i didn't want that problem if i ever had a kid, so he lets me practice on him. the first time i tried cornrows and he asked how he looked, I said "white boy carl ahh 🙏" he stole my juice box after >:T he's also one of the most chronically online ppl ik. like i swear bro is on tiktok 20 hours a day bcuz why am i responding to the tiktoks he sends like im grading his fukin homework?? speaking of hw, im so glad that he had y'know,actual aspirations n shi. so many boys in my school r getting into gangs n shit which is why it makes me so happy i ended up with someone who isn't affiliated with allat. he wants to go to a local college, which is fine, but i definitely think he could get into a better one if he wanted to. my prince is so intelligent (σ´∀`)σ also, he's been working out at the gym lately and it's starting to show 👀 (ngl gotta start doing it too) his parents absolutely love me, especially his mommy :3 once while we were in the car she was like "remember [my name], if my son ever gives u trouble, u come straight to me, ok?" it was a joke ofc (my bf would never hurt me) but it's nice to know i have their backs!! there's so much more i feel like im missing but it's hard for me explain!! when i love someone or smth a lot, i get so excited to talk abt them i can't put into words how i feel. i wuv him sooooo much n im so happy he loves me too!!!🎀

I need someone to yap about their s/o

[squiddy-god]

hnrghhm being t4t with bladie :(

Hmmmmhmhmfjgjgjgng I ADORE WRITING T4T STUFF AND I LOVE BALDE so yes i will absolutely imagine being t4t with bladie  REQUEST OPEN♥︎ don't be shy Cw : t4t, trans masc blade x trans reader, i decided to do trans masc reader because i am a trans man myself, fluff, sweet t4t thoughts, physical touch, period mentioned, intimate touching of boobs but not in a sexual way 

꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚

꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚

Augh omg being t4t with blade is so tasty i love this

Blade lothes his curse, that much is clear- however there is one good thing about it and that's ironically the scars 

His body is littered in scars and as he stares at the havoc that the curse has inflicted on him, at least the scars put a different part of his mind at ease

They help the dysphoria and make him feel more masculine

There's also the added bonus that you insist on kissing said scars 

Blade operates on a talk shit get hit (stabbed) basis, and when with you that extends to you

Aeons forbid that anyone starts making comments about you, they are about to have a very rude awakening 

Oke here me out, when you get sensitive from binding too long (assuming you bind and/or don't have top surgery) blade will massage your boobs, pre and post top surgery blade also likes/lets you do the same to him 

Blade isn't very talkative but there has never been a doubt that he sees you as a man, no matter how you present and if you “pass” or not, doesn't matter and he will fight about this 

Blade who gets these awful and terrible period cramps and starts behaving like a grumpy but very clingy cat 

He wants cuddles and he will be damned if he doesn't get them

Literally just lay on top of him while he uses the hot pad

Ok so we all know the buttons on blades shirt are fighting for their life, but i think blade doesn't like shirts, most of the time when he's not going out he isn't in a shirt

Mmmm spiky jagged top surgery scars my beloved 

I will die on the hill that blade is clingy in a quiet way

He's quiet, doesn't talk a whole lot, but he always seeks you out, revels in your comfort and companionship, so he ends up being shockingly clingy

꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚

[sunatsubu]

Jayvik and time paradoxes

I can't stop thinking about Jayce/Viktor. They're driving me insane, absolutely INSANE. Because everything about them is a time paradox??

This is pretty rambly, I'm just trying to get my thoughts down in my attempt to stop going crazy over them and also just figure out what the heck happened because I'm still kind of confused about some stuff, also I am not very familiar with game lore, mainly just the show.

They circle each other and are so intrinsically linked in so many ways, being both cause and effect to each other's fates. Starting at a random point that ends up circling all the way back:

Jayce and Viktor invent Hextech

Jayce gets drawn into politics as a result, away from Viktor

Viktor gets desperate, experiments with hextech on himself, with Consequences (Sky)

Viktor asks Jayce to destroy hextech

Jayce, unable to let Viktor die after Jinx's attack, fuses him with it instead

This leads to Machine Herald viktor, but not quite; like Pre-herald I guess? Where Viktor still retains some humanity

Jayce gets told by alternate Viktor to stop him from becoming the Herald

In his attempt to do so, he kind of causes/hastens it instead?! (more thoughts on this below*)

alternate Herald Viktor regrets everything and saves baby Jayce/gives him the runestone**

Jayce grows up wanting to research magic thanks to mage Viktor, and cue s1 events that end up circling back to the first point**

*I can't stop thinking about how kind and gentle Viktor seemed when he was trying to help Vander. It really seemed like he was on a path to using his new powers for good, without any sinister effects (though maybe I missed some hints, need to rewatch). It wasn't until after Jayce blew his heart to smithereens that he seemed to start on that path of deeming emotions and humanity unnecessary, solidified when Jayce rejected him to join him as partners again.

**Still trying to wrap my brain around these last two. The existence of alternate Herald Viktor that brings our Jayce to his destroyed world in order to ask him to stop our Viktor - does this imply that Viktor would have still become Machine Herald even if Jayce hadn't tried to kill him? Was it an inevitable thing? Or is this still more time paradox shenanigans, where Viktor asking Jayce to stop/kill his younger self, is both the cause and effect of Herald Viktor? And yet another paradox, Viktor inspired baby Jayce to research magic and ultimately invent Hextech, which is what was needed for Machine Herald Viktor to come to pass. So it seems like there are actually 2 paradoxes related to the creation of Herald Viktor/apocalypse post Viktor's revolution.

These time paradoxes defining their existences makes me think they weren't supposed to exist. Or at least, the ways they so significantly affected the world, weren't supposed to come to pass; Hextech, Viktor's Revolution, apocalypse. So while their ending breaks my heart into a million pieces, it makes a lot of sense. In order to cancel out what they'd do to the world (or just Piltover? this is another point I'm curious about, did viktor's revolution affect ALL of humanity?), they had to erase themselves from existence. It's so. romantic and tragic, but not really on both those counts? Like somehow deeper, too deep, to put such simple labels on. Honestly I don't even really know how to describe what their story makes me feel.

Bit of a tangent, but one interesting anomaly is the alt timeline Ekko was in. So Jinx would always be an important factor in Jayvik's fates since her attack almost killing Victor is the catalyst for a lot of things. Mage Victor says Jayce is the one thing across all timelines that could stop him, implying there are MANY timelines where Herald Viktor comes to be. Which thus means in all those timelines, Jinx is the unstable mess we know and love, the one who would attack the council. So that makes it interesting (and kinda gutting because its like Jinx is destined to suffer in most timelines) that Ekko's alt timeline was most likely rare in its stability, where despite Vi being gone, Powder is relatively happy and the world (Piltover/Zaun) is quite peaceful.

This is a seemingly random segueway, but Jayvik very strongly reminded me of the german show Dark. (WARNING FOLLOWING IS MAJOR SPOILER FOR THAT SHOW)

A completely different genre and story, but both are about two people whose destinies are so linked together throughout time and alternate universes, but weren't supposed to exist. And they could only save the world, allow it to go on untouched from the devastating effects they would have on it, by taking themselves out of the equation.

[icarusredwings]

Letters.

Tw: General warning about phycosis and bad mental health.

Thinking about Wade becoming conscious sometimes out of his manic/phycosis episodes and scribbling down everything, he wants to tell who he's with before he's gone again.

It starts off as a letter, adressing them, telling them his feelings, explaining complex things that he cant comprehend in this state, how much he loves them, and then it goes down hill to apologizing for being a burden, the end of the page scribbles in more and more pressurized versions of "Im sorry Im sorry Im sorRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY

I'M SORRY

I'M SORRY

I'M SORRY

IM SORRYIM SORRYIM SORRYIM SORRYIM SORRYIM SORRYIM SORRYIM SORRYIM SORRYIM SORRYIM SORRYIM SORRYIM SORRYIM SORRYIM SORRYIM SORRYIM SORRYIM SORRYIM SORRYIM SORRY with tear drops smudging some of the words. And then when you ask him about it, he doesn't remember even writing it.

People always ask Vanessa why she stays with Wade. Why or how she could put up with him for so long. And the truth is, his good days? He's a great person. He's a good man, Savanna. And an amazing lover.

One day, Logan finds one of the letters on the counter, a lot of words scribbled out but it, in short, says

"Logan,

I know I'm a pain in the ass a lot of work but I love you please don't give up on me

But its the bad days that pile up, become endless. That's what breaks her. She can only help so much. And it breaks her heart to think about ever truely giving him up.

I'm loosing my mind trying really hard. Wade."

She's explained this to Logan, bringing him to her dresser and pulling out a shoe box full of papers, notes, letters.

Every single one of them is from Wade. Ranging from love letters that are multiple pages long, sticky note with hearts and a doodle of stick figures banging doggy style with "Happy hump day!" on it, and uncoherent smuged and half scribbled out notes from his bad days telling her how badly he wants the voices to stop. To leave him alone. Telling her that she should leave him. "You can do better. You DESERVE better." The words say.

"Vanessa,

I know you need me here with you, but I'm losing myself, and I'm afraid you're gonna lose me too. These powers keep me alive, but they're making me crazy. And I need to save you, but who's going to save me?

Please forgive me for whatever I do

When I don't remember you.."

"Is that?... That show with the strenchy dog?"

She nods, taking it back and carefully putting it back into the box. ".. That was one of the first letters I ever gotten like this.. he thought the cancer would take his ability to remember me. So.. he wrote me that."

"So what do I do?"

"What do you mean? There's nothing much you can do.. but according to this? Don't give up. If you want too.. I used to write back but.. sometimes he didn't awnser again. Still though... He said he's trying.."

[itsfrenchfornothankyou]

okay so you said genuine question and im not from around here but i do have an answer! so you've unlocked an unskippable cutscene!

this is a much bigger topic than it appears on the surface, and i might be able to answer your question succinctly and briefly, but it would miss out on a lot of the stuff happening behind the scenes which is actually very important!

since this is going to be quite long (I did a rough notes on my thoughts and what i might say and it was almost 1k. so.) i am going to put the rest under a readmore

but now that you've clicked the button and commited, let's break this into parts for both our sakes.

part 1: moral purity and the loss of 'squick'

so there's been a fun phenomenon happening lately online, and it's the idea that you can assign morals by the type of things that someone likes. that the act of enjoying something or disliking something is an inherently moral act.

this in itself has a lot of reasons behind it, and digging through that history would be an essay in its own right, so im going to glaze over it. but the current state of affairs is that your own personal taste, be it in media, in people, or yes, sexual thoughts (even ones without actions) are in themselves, moral.

no matter the cause of these feelings, the outcome is this: if you find yourself liking or disliking something, there must be some reason behind it. if you find yourself grossed out by something, there is a moral and justifyable reason behind it.

this is, to me, related to the loss of the idea of a 'squick'; something that just grossed you out. 'squicks' didnt have to be triggers, they didnt have to be evil or harming you, they were a preference about something you just personally did not like.

now however, along with other terms, we have lost the idea of a 'squick' and so if you don't like something there must be a reason this thing is evil.

so now you have people seeing things like animal packers, and they are for some reason uncomfortable with them. where we might have once said 'oh well, not for me', we must now have a reason for why we are uncomfortable with this idea.

1.5: the perpetrator and the victim

in any given situation, to prevent discourse from becoming muddied or hard to answer, there must always be a person who is definitively in the right, and a person who is in the wrong.

this is a really normal reaction, it's hard to accept something as not having a clear answer, and so it's easy to find ourselves doubling down on something so we dont have to confess to the worst thing of all 'i dont know'.

Coming from disability advocacy, it's important to recognise that there are going to be situations which are not clear cut, in which nobody has done anything wrong, but people have ended up hurt or upset. sometimes needs and people are simply incompatible, and there's nothing wrong or evil there.

but that is difficult and scary, so instead it's much easier to talk about the victim and the villain. if someone is being hurt (i am looking at something that grosses me out) then someone must be intentionally hurting them (evil gross kinksters)

In this understanding of things, the discomfort itself must be harm done, and if harm is being done, then someone must be at fault. it becomes a matter of who is the perpetrator and who is the victim. So in order for them to be uncomfortable and not be evil themselves, the thing that is making them uncomfortable must be evil itself.

now that we've established these things we can actually get around to answering the actual question you asked:

Part 2: why zoophillia?

if this person has deemed the act that these people have done to be evil or bad, why not just call the act itself (which i am given to understand is hyper-realistic animal packers?) evil?

well what you surely understand, and somehwere in the back of their brain they understand, is that that's incredibly fucking stupid.

if you walk up to the average person and say hey, this person is doing this evil thing, and explain that, theyre going to think you're insane. so how are they supposed to tell the average person that this person is evil? they escelate it to most awful acusation they can think of in the moment.

in most communities, the terrible thing that they will accuse someone of is pedophillia, but in the therian circles, they dont need to escelate it to that point, because there is already a hot button topic they can point to instead.

Zoophillia, as i am given to understand, is one of the most hot button topics in the therian community. it is the group which is regularly aligning themselves with therians, that many if not most therians want nothing to do with.

it's also a group that is often conflated with therians, meaning that many therians have an immediate 'no fuck off that's not us' reaction to it, as a form of self preservation. because as soon as people have made a claim that you may be a zoophile, and you fail to respond in the appropriate way, you will be cast out of your own therian in group.

so the use of using zoophillia as an acusation is two-fold. for one, it makes people take the accusation seriously, and for two, it prevents people from doing their own research and looking into it.

because if you are told this person is evil, and if you support them you are also evil, at that point any questioning on your part is seen as complicity in evil acts. as apologism. this person is evil and if you ask my why, you must also be evil.

so lets circle back a little bit here, earlier i mentioned that the typical claim is pedophillia, which everything i said previously about evil acts is still true of, but you might not fully believe me about people escelating to the nearest most terrible thing they can think of, but the thing is that i have seen this before.

Part 2.5: tired asexual

hello again, youve probably never heard of me before, so let me tell you that I'm Asexual. more importantly, I'm an asexual person who has been on tumblr for a solid decade.

if you werent around in the mid to late 10s, you might not know just how bod aphobia on tumblr got, but i was there for it. and you know what the most common accusation of why asexuals, and anyone trying to discuss asexuality were evil?

because discussing asexuality was pedophillia.

yeah, asexuals. the well known 'lack of sexual attraction' community.

Now I can go into the series of claims that led to this, hell I could probably go diving on my old blog and find screenshots of these actual accusations, but that’s kind of besides the point. The point here is that the actual reasons people give for it being ‘insert evil thing’ are unimportant.

yeah, when i say it to you, a person who i am assuming knows a little something about asexuality, that that was the claim, your first thought is that that's an insane thing to say.

but for a lot of people the first time they heard about asexuality was in this discourse. so their brain is now primed to make the connection of 'oh, okay, asexuality is evil.' and now, when they see people defending asexuality, they're already defensive. they assume youre trying to trick them, or make them complicit.

asexuality is not the only place this tactic has been used though, you see it all the time. it's at its most common in things like homophobic legestation, anti-trans bills, or drag bans.

These people cannot justify the initial action as evil, so they jump to something you are more likely to agree with, and try to argue it is the same thing. this is what we call equivocation.

equivication is an incredibly effective tactic in fear-mongering, splitting up groups of people, and getting something innocuous labeled as morally wrong

'Think of the children' is a good example of this. No it’s not that im transphobic, it’s that I’m concerned about children. Therefore, if you’re arguing against me it must be because you yourself hate children and want harm to come to them.  

but not everyone is as obvious as to say 'think of the children' or some other line we've heard a bunch before. they find new ways to say it, and because the current safety tactics are to watch for certain phrases and words, people dont know how to look for underlying beliefs and sentiments, leaving people more vulnerable than ever to this kind of manipulation.

so now i've hopefully answered your initial question of 'why zoophillia', i want to take this a litte bit further and ask, 'what is the end goal?'

part 3: what next?

okay so would you believe me, if i said that until now ive actually been taking an incredibly good faith reading of the discourse so far?

currently I have been presenting this as a misdirection of discomfort, but not necessarily actively malicious. now however, i want to go back to the ace discourse.

bigots on tumblr weren't actually starting shit with the ace community because they really had a bone to pick with asexuals, they were doing it because they were transphobes. Surprise!

this isnt speculation on my part, transphobes have since openly discussed that they used aphobia as a kind of 'gateway' to 'gatekeeping'

if they come out of the gates talking about how 'transexuals are evil' and should be 'kicked out of the lgbt community', then they would be immediately revealed as transphobes and most of the queer community won't listen to them. these transphobic talking points have been around long enough to be identifiable and more easily discussed.

asexuality however was, particularly at the time, very under-discussed. it also wasnt a part of the 'standard' LGBT acronym, which made it easier for them to make the argument that asexual people should not be allowed to be considered part of the community.

aphobia at the time was considered less divisive, you could be more easily convinced that this community you have never heard of is evil, dont question it. theyre pedophiles and groomers, if that isnt enough to convince you theyre evil it must be because you're also an evil person, so don't question it or do your own research. then we might come for you.

This was wildly successful! And now that that campaign has gone so well, they can now openly admit that they were secretly transphobes all along! And wow, you already aligned with us, so you need to double down on hating trans people because the rest of the queer community doesn’t want you back after that bullshit!

now maybe you consider this to be a particularly poor faith reading of the current discourse. maybe i had you in the first half, but all of this stuff about secret transphobes and conservatives playing along in ways that are more acceptable seems a little far fetched and conspiratorial to you. a bit of equivication here and there isnt inherently a sign of deeper sinister intentions. isnt all of this a bit of a stretch?

and maybe youre right, maybe im just someone who has seen something similar play out before, and im jumping to defence at something that wont become the same issue.

but isn't it interesting that the people being most vitriolistically upset about all of this, and attacking the creator of these things and accusing them of zoophillia are also misgendering him?

[Tw: Zoophilia mention]

Genuine question: WHY do so many people in this community jump on everything they find weird and immediate label it as zoophilia?!

Like- animal packers, fantasy toys, yiff art, pet play, kink gear, LITERALLY ANYTHING.

Seriously, relieving dysphoria, having "dirty" urges related to your identity, even straight up liking some freaky shit does NOT mean someone is attracted to animals. And it definitely does not mean they are actively harming/thinking of harming real animals.

People really take whatever is too weird for them and try to accuse it of war crime. Be better y'all.