#no one is ready for the person I will become as I read this

[missarchive]

american jesus² ☆

spencer reid

part one

summary; Spencer continues to spoil you with thoughtful gifts and lavish attention, each gesture reinforcing the growing bond between you both. Despite the lingering questions and unspoken emotions, Spencer becomes more protective and possessive, revealing his vulnerability and need to care of you. As you begin to navigate the complexities of your unconventional arrangement, the lines between business and genuine affection begin to blur, leaving you both caught between desire and uncertainty.

cw; +18 minors dni, sugar baby/daddy dynamics, inexperienced reader, pleasure dom spencer, fingering, dirty talk, munch!spencer, unprotected p in v, multiple orgasms, reader calls spencer "sir"

an; thank you for so so much love on the first part! as always, feedback is greatly appreciated. P.s. this is written with jesus reid in mind <3 xoxo

You exchanged messages almost daily after that. His words were always careful, deliberate, as if he’d spent hours considering each one. He asked about your life—not in a prying way, but with genuine curiosity. He wanted to know your interests, your struggles, the little details that most people overlooked.

In return, he offered glimpses of himself. He told you about his love of books, how his job kept him busy and isolated, and how he’d joined the site not for anything shallow, but because he craved a connection that he hadn’t found anywhere else.

As the days turned into weeks, your messages grew longer, more personal. You learned that he didn’t like crowded places, that he drank too much tea, and that he had a habit of quoting obscure facts when he was nervous.

But despite the growing intimacy of your conversations, there was always a wall between you—a hesitance to reveal too much. Neither of you had shared your real name or details about your work. It wasn’t unusual for this kind of arrangement, but it made everything feel more fragile, like the wrong word could shatter whatever it was you were building.

And then, one night, he sent a message that changed everything.

@ thefourthdoctor; I’ve been thinking... I’d like to meet you in person. If you’re comfortable, of course.

Your heart raced as you read the words. You had been expecting this—waiting for it, even—but now that it was here, you weren’t sure what to say.

@ laceandliterature; Are you sure? 

@ thefourthdoctor; I am. But only if you feel ready. I don’t want you to feel pressured.

You hesitated, your fingers hovering over the keyboard. You wanted to meet him—you couldn’t deny that. But there was a part of you that was afraid. What if he wasn’t what you expected? What if you weren’t what he expected?

@ laceandliterature; Let’s take a little more time. I’m not saying no. Just... not yet.

@ thefourthdoctor; Of course.

@ thefourthdoctor; I’ll wait as long as you need. No pressure.

The conversation continued, and for the next week, things went back to normal—if what you had could even be called that. But the thought of meeting lingered at the back of your mind, growing stronger with every message he sent, every piece of himself he shared.

One night, as you lay in bed, scrolling through his messages, you made up your mind.

@ laceandliterature; Okay, Let’s meet.

@ thefourthdoctor; Are you sure, angel?

@ thefourthdoctor; Yes. I want to meet you, Spencer.

After a few more exchanges, you settled on a quiet café in the city—neutral territory. He insisted on keeping things casual, saying he didn’t want to overwhelm you. If anything, he was a gentleman.

The night before the meeting, you barely slept. You went over everything in your mind a hundred times, questioning your decision, wondering if you were making a mistake. But when the time came, you found yourself standing outside the café, heart pounding as you pushed the door open.

The first time you met Spencer in person, it wasn’t anything like you expected. You had imagined someone cocky, a man accustomed to throwing his money around to get what he wanted. But Spencer wasn’t that. Not even close.

He had chosen a quiet café for your meeting, one tucked away from the bustling city streets, its low lighting and intimate atmosphere offering a sense of privacy. When you arrived, you saw him sitting at a corner table, his long fingers wrapped around a cup of tea, his gaze fixed on a well-worn book.

You almost didn’t approach him. He looked so out of place, like someone who had wandered in by accident, unaware of the implications of what this kind of meeting entailed. But then he glanced up, and his eyes met yours.

You’d recognise those eyes anywhere. They were just as captivating as they had been in his profile picture—intelligent, kind, and curious, but with an edge of something deeper, something darker.

“Hi,” you said, hesitating at the edge of the table.

Spencer stood quickly, his movements awkward but endearing. “Hi. Please, uh, sit. I—I’m Spencer.”

His voice was softer than you expected, but there was a certainty to it that made you feel at ease. As you slid into the chair across from him, you couldn’t help but study him. He was... handsome. 

His hair, a dark cascade of curls that fell just past his shoulders, framed his face like the softest of shadows. Each strand seemed to have a life of its own, unruly and free, yet perfectly suited to him, like a secret kept between the universe and his skin. The golden highlights that kissed the tips caught the light in a way that made him seem almost ethereal, as if sunlight was always seeking to touch him, to linger just a little longer.

His eyes—those eyes—the colour of moss after rain, deep and mysterious, filled with an intelligence that left you feeling both seen and understood, and yet so very far away. There was a quiet intensity in the way they studied everything around him, always searching, always analysing, as though the world was a puzzle he had yet to fully solve. But when they turned toward you, it felt like he was letting the world slip away, if only for a moment, letting you glimpse the tenderness he rarely allowed anyone to see.

His face, pale and angular, was sharp with youth and burdened wisdom all at once. His lips, though soft and pale, would part when he spoke, revealing a mix of shyness and urgency, like every word he shared carried weight. The stubble that traced the sharp edge of his jawline only emphasised the boyishness that lingered beneath the layers of genius and mystery. But it was his smile—rare and fleeting—that truly made your chest ache, a smile that cracked through the fortress around him, like the sun breaking through clouds.

There was something effortlessly magnetic about him, something that made you want to inch closer to understand the stories written in the lines of his face. And yet, just as quickly as he drew you in, there was always an invisible barrier, a space between you and the man that you were still trying to figure out. Spencer Reid was an enigma wrapped in vulnerability, each glance, each gesture, leaving you wanting more of the puzzle to unfold.

The first few minutes were stilted, filled with polite small talk about the weather and the café’s menu. But as the conversation flowed, the tension between you began to ease. Spencer wasn’t like anyone you’d ever met. He spoke with a quiet intensity, his words precise and thoughtful, and he listened just as intently, as if everything you said held a weight he couldn’t ignore.

And then, inevitably, the topic shifted to why you were both there.

“So,” he began, his fingers fidgeting with the edge of his napkin. “I’m not, um... particularly experienced with this kind of arrangement.”

You raised an eyebrow, surprised by his candour. “You mean being a sugar daddy?”

He winced slightly at the term but nodded. “Yes. That. I—I don’t want you to think that I see this as transactional, at least not in the way it’s usually framed. I’m looking for... connection, I suppose. Someone to talk to. To spend time with. And if financial support is part of that, then I’m happy to provide it.”

His words caught you off guard. Most men on the site were upfront about their intentions—dinners in exchange for companionship, gifts in exchange for discretion. But Spencer’s tone was different. He wasn’t trying to seduce you or impress you with his wealth. He was just... honest.

You leaned back in your chair, studying him. “And what do you expect from me?”

He hesitated, his eyes flicking away for a moment before meeting yours again. “I don’t have expectations. I only have... hopes. That you’ll be honest with me. That we can build something that feels mutually beneficial. And if, at any point, you’re uncomfortable, you can tell me. No strings, no pressure.”

There was a sincerity in his voice that made your chest tighten. This wasn’t a game to him. It wasn’t about power or control. It was about something deeper, something more human.

“Okay,” you said, nodding slowly. “I think we can make that work.”

Over the next few weeks, your relationship settled into a rhythm. Spencer was generous, but not in a way that felt overbearing. And then there was the money.

He transferred it to your account without fanfare, always with a note attached. For groceries. For that art class you mentioned. For you.

At first, it felt strange, accepting so much from him. But Spencer never made it feel transactional. He never demanded anything in return, never made you feel like you owed him. It was simply his way of showing he cared.

The calls became a nightly ritual. He’d ask about your day, encouraging you to share every mundane detail as though it were the most important thing in the world. He never interrupted, never rushed you, and his thoughtful responses made you feel like the centre of his universe.

In return, you learned more about his life. He told you about the pressures of his job, the long hours, the cases that weighed on him. But he never dwelled on the darkness. Instead, he focused on the small joys: the satisfaction of solving a puzzle, the camaraderie of his team, the books he escaped into when the world felt too heavy.

And then there were the gifts.

It started with little things: a beautifully bound notebook because you’d mentioned wanting to journal, a box of your favourite chocolates, a scarf in your favourite colour. But soon, the gifts became more extravagant.

A delivery driver showed up at your door one afternoon with a box containing a designer handbag you’d admired in passing. Another day, you received an email confirming that Spencer had paid off your car loan, the subject line reading simply: You deserve this.

“Spencer,” you said when you called him that night, clutching the phone tightly. “You didn’t have to do that. I never asked for—”

“I know you didn’t,” he interrupted gently. “But I wanted to. Please let me do this for you.”

It was hard to argue with him when he sounded so sincere.

The next time you met in person, he handed you a small velvet box across the table. You opened it to find a delicate gold bracelet, simple but exquisite, the kind of thing that felt like it belonged in a museum.

“Spencer,” you whispered, your voice catching. “This is too much.”

His expression softened, his fingers brushing against yours as he helped you fasten the bracelet around your wrist. “Nothing I give you will ever feel like enough,” he said, his voice low and earnest. “But I’ll keep trying.”

He spoiled you in other ways too. He insisted on picking up the check whenever you went out, no matter how much you protested. When you mentioned that your laptop was acting up, a brand-new one arrived at your doorstep the next day.

But it wasn’t just about the money or the gifts. It was the way he made you feel cherished, valued, as though your happiness was the most important thing in the world to him.

One night, as you lay in bed after a long call, you found yourself smiling at the thought of him. It was more than just an arrangement now. Somewhere along the way, you’d started to care about him—not for what he could give you, but for who he was.

The low hum of your phone’s speaker filled the quiet of your bedroom as you lay sprawled across your bed, Spencer’s voice soothing and familiar on the other end of the line. Tonight’s call had started like all the others—a mix of light teasing and genuine curiosity—but somewhere along the way, you felt the tone shift.

“Can I ask you something?” you ventured, fiddling with the bracelet he’d given you, its delicate chain glinting in the soft light of your bedside lamp.

“Of course,” Spencer replied, his voice gentle.

“How do you afford all of this?” you asked, hesitant but unable to keep the question bottled up any longer. “The gifts, the...everything. I mean, you’re so generous, and I don’t want you to think I’m ungrateful, but I can’t help but wonder.”

There was a pause on the other end, long enough for doubt to creep into your mind. You opened your mouth to take it back, but then he spoke, his tone thoughtful.

“It’s a fair question,” he said softly. “I suppose I owe you an explanation.”

You heard him exhale, the sound heavy with something you couldn’t quite name.

“I wasn’t always this...comfortable,” he began. “For most of my life, I never cared much about money. I didn’t really need to. My job covered the basics, and I didn’t have anyone to spend it on—not until now.”

His words made your heart tighten.

“What kind of job?” you asked tentatively.

“I was with the FBI,” he said, and though his tone was steady, there was a weight behind the words. “I worked as a criminal profiler for over a decade. It wasn’t easy, but it was...fulfilling, in its own way. We dealt with some of the worst humanity has to offer, but knowing we were helping people made it worth it.”

You sat up a little straighter, the revelation catching you off guard. “That sounds...intense.”

“It was,” he admitted. “But I loved it. The work gave me purpose. Until I got injured in the field,” he said quietly. “A knee injury. Nothing life-threatening, but bad enough that I couldn’t keep up with the demands of the job. I had to retire early.”

You could hear the mix of resignation and lingering frustration in his voice, and it tugged at you.

“I’m sorry,” you said, meaning it.

“Don’t be,” he replied, a hint of a smile creeping back into his tone. “It gave me time to focus on other things—like figuring out what I wanted out of life. I realised I’d spent so much of my time chasing after criminals and trying to make the world a safer place, but I’d never really lived for myself.”

You bit your lip, unsure what to say.

“I had money saved up,” he continued, his tone matter-of-fact. “I never spent much on myself. Just the necessities and the occasional book. So, when I found myself with all this extra time and money... I didn’t know what to do with it. And then I found the site.”

The mention of the website—the place where your strange, beautiful relationship had begun—sent a rush of warmth and something like embarrassment through you.

“I wasn’t looking for anything romantic,” he said quickly, as though reading your mind. “I just wanted...connection. Someone to talk to. And then I found you.”

You smiled, your heart softening. “And now you’re spoiling me rotten.”

Spencer chuckled, the sound low and warm. “I don’t see it that way. I like taking care of you. It makes me happy.”

You felt your cheeks flush. “You don’t have to, though. You’ve already done so much.”

“I want to,” he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. “I spent years putting my energy into a job that left me drained. Now, I finally get to do something that feels good. Something that matters to me. And you matter to me.”

The words hung in the air, heavy with meaning, and you felt your chest tighten with emotion.

“Spencer,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes?”

“Thank you,” you murmured, your heart full.

“For what?”

“For being you.”

The silence that followed was warm, comfortable, filled with the unspoken understanding that no matter how unconventional your relationship was, it worked. For both of you.

The next time you saw each other, things were different. You could feel the air between you crackling with an electric charge. The conversation flowed easily, but there was an undeniable tension lingering beneath the surface. Every touch seemed to hold more weight, every glance more meaningful.

After dinner, Spencer invited you back to his apartment. You could tell he was being cautious—he didn’t want to rush anything—but you could also feel that he was testing boundaries, subtly claiming his space. As you sat next to him on his worn out leather couch, his hand brushed against yours, and it felt like the world narrowed down to just the two of you. The quiet intimacy of the moment was powerful, and you both knew you couldn’t keep pretending that your relationship was just a simple arrangement anymore.

His voice broke the silence.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about us,” he said, his words low, careful. “About what we’re doing, and what it means. I can’t keep giving you everything and pretending it’s nothing. It’s not just about the money or the gifts anymore. I want to be more than that for you.”

You felt a surge of emotion, something between excitement and fear. This was what you had been afraid of—the moment when you’d realise that you wanted more, that this wasn’t just some transaction for you either. And you could see in Spencer’s eyes that he was struggling with the same feelings.

“I don’t want you to think that I only care about the money,” you said, your voice quiet but steady. 

Spencer’s gaze softened, and for a moment, there was something vulnerable in his eyes that you hadn’t seen before.

“I know,” he whispered, his hand slipping into yours, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “But I can’t stop myself from wanting to give you everything. I’m not used to feeling like this. Like I’m needed. I’ve spent so much of my life in control, always keeping my distance... but with you, it’s different.”

You squeezed his hand, understanding what he meant. You didn’t need him to explain further. There was an unspoken connection between you two now—a bond that was undeniable, something more than the surface-level arrangement you’d initially started with.

“I want to give you everything too,” you said softly, leaning in closer. “But you have to promise me something—promise me that this isn’t just about the money. Promise me that you actually want me.”

Spencer’s eyes held yours with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine, his gaze so deep it felt as though he could see every hidden part of you. The air between you thickened, the unspoken tension finally reaching its breaking point. He took a slow step forward, the warmth of his body enveloping you, and for a heartbeat, everything else ceased to exist.

His hand lifted, cupping your cheek in a soft, yet possessive way, as if he was both cherishing and claiming you all at once. “I promise,” the gentle brush of his thumb over your skin sent a flutter through your chest, and before you could process it, his lips were on yours.

The kiss was slow at first, tentative, as if both of you were testing the waters, savouring the newness of it. But the moment you responded, the kiss deepened, urgency flooding in. Spencer’s lips moved against yours with a fervour that mirrored the racing pulse in your veins. His hands, once gentle, now framed your face with a desperate kind of need, pulling you closer, as if he couldn’t get enough of you.

Every touch, every press of his lips against yours, was electric. You could feel the raw intensity of everything he was holding back in that kiss—the longing, the desire, the tension of months spent on the edge, waiting for this moment. And when his tongue traced the line of your lower lip, a quiet gasp escaped you, and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss further, drawing you in like a magnet.

Your hands, almost instinctively, found their way to his hair, fingers tangling in the strands that had once teased you from a distance, now so close you could feel the weight of them. His hair was soft, the strands slipping between your fingers as you tugged him closer, urging him to kiss you more fiercely.

As he kissed his way down your body, you could feel the anticipation building inside of you. You loved how he savoured you, like a piece of art he needed to take his time with. His fingers slid along your inner thighs, spreading you open for him. He groaned, his breath hot against your skin. “Fuck, baby,” he murmured against your clit. “Look at you. Already dripping wet for me. What am I gonna do with you? Perfect, perfect girl.”

Your breath caught in your throat as his tongue swirled around your clit, the sensation of his warm mouth sending waves of pleasure through you. You arched your back off the couch, your hands tangling in his hair.

“Please,” you begged, your eyes squeezed shut as you felt the pressure building. “Please, sir. Please make me cum.”

Spencer moaned, his tongue dipping inside of you before returning to your clit. Teasing it gently with his tongue, his fingers slipping inside of you, working you open. You were already close, your walls tightening around his fingers as he fucked them into you slowly. Picking up the pace, his mouth latched onto your clit as you fell apart, your body trembling with your orgasm. 

Spencer didn’t give you a second to catch your breath before he was kissing you again, his tongue pushing past your lips to taste you, tip of his cock nudging against your cunt. You weren’t even sure when he’d taken his clothes off, not that it mattered now. You whimpered as he slid inside of you, his cock stretching you open. He pulled back slightly, hips rolling against your own. “Keep your eyes open,” he commanded. “Need to see your face when you cum. Need to see what I do to you.”

You nodded, your fingers digging into his shoulders as he picked up the pace. He was relentless, slamming into you with deep, powerful thrusts. 

You weren’t used to coming more than once in a row, with your poor excuses of previous partners, but with Spencer, it felt natural. He pushed you higher than you knew was possible, taking you to the edge of sanity every time you were together. And when you came, it was like a floodgate opened up, and all of that pent-up desire came pouring out of you.

He was whispering things to you, things that made you blush and preen, words that made you feel beautiful, wanted. You’d never felt like this before. You felt like a completely different person with him, someone who was capable of more than you ever thought.

“That’s it,” he encouraged. “Give it to me, princess. Let me feel you. Fuck, you feel so good around me,” he kissed you deeply as he drove inside of you, the pressure inside of you growing. “Cum for me, angel. Cum all over my cock.”

You heard him through a haze, your body trembling and shaking as the second orgasm rolled through you. You felt his cock pulse inside of you as he came, his teeth sinking gently into your neck as he rode out his own release. Wrapping your arms around him, you pull him as close as possible as you hold onto him, his body pressing into yours.

Pressing soft kisses to your shoulder, he whispers into your skin. “Stay the night?” He asked. “I don’t want you to leave yet, just got you here.” His voice was soft, gentle, and you found yourself melting into his embrace. You didn’t want to go either. You wanted to stay like this, wrapped up in his arms, for as long as possible. And that terrified you more than anything else. “Please?”

He looked at you, his eyes dark and sincere. Your heart fluttered at the look he was giving you. It was one you’d never seen before, one that made your breath catch in your throat.

 It was a look that said he wanted more, and that scared you. But it also filled you with a warmth you couldn’t deny.

“Yeah,” you said finally. “Okay.” And as Spencer pulled you back into his arms, kissing you gently, you realised that you might just be in trouble. He was already pulling you in, tempting you to stay. You were already falling for him, and there wasn’t a damn thing you could do to stop it. “I’ll stay.” You agreed.

 “For tonight.” You added. You weren’t going to admit to more than that, not yet. “Just tonight.” Spencer nodded, his lips returning to yours.

You knew it was dangerous, you knew you were playing with fire, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

You wanted to be his, even if it was just for one night. You wanted to let him own you, let him love you. Even if it was just temporary, you wanted to feel that love for as long as you could. You knew it would hurt in the end, but you were too far gone to stop it now.

And when he whispered your name against your lips, you almost believed that it was real. That this wasn’t just temporary, but forever. Almost. You allowed yourself to be swept up in the moment, to believe the things he whispered to you. To believe that maybe this was it.

Maybe he was your forever, and you were his. Maybe this was something that could last longer than just one night.

Won't you take me to heaven tonight? You know you're my weakness American Jesus, save me You're the greatest love of my life

[kaiyunsim]

paw paradise —

pairing : idol!jake x daycare worker!reader

summary : jake's dog, layla, has been attending a doggy daycare and has taken a liking to you… and maybe the owner too.

a/n : i love jake. i love golden retriever energy.

— wc : 1.1k — not proof read —

jake sim has always been a morning person. the soft light spilling through his curtains, the chirping of birds outside his window, and most importantly, the enthusiastic barking of his golden retriever, layla, are enough to pull him out of bed with a smile. layla is practically vibrating with energy as jake clips on her leash.

“ready for daycare, girl?” he asks, scratching behind her ears. layla responds with a happy bark, tail wagging furiously.

every morning, jake drops layla off at a local doggy daycare while he heads to practice. it’s a cozy little place tucked between a coffee shop and a florist, with colorful murals of dogs painted on the outside walls. it’s called "paw paradise," and it’s as much of a haven for jake as it is for layla.

you work there, and you’ve seen layla plenty of times. she’s impossible to miss, bounding in with her golden coat practically glowing, a stark contrast to the sleepy-eyed boy holding her leash. you’ve always thought jake was cute in an approachable, golden-retriever-boy kind of way, but you’ve never had the chance to really talk to him. he’s usually in and out within minutes, his mornings rushed and busy.

one morning, you’re at the front desk, checking in dogs and chatting with their owners, when jake walks in. his smile is soft but genuine as he approaches, layla’s leash wrapped securely around his hand.

“hey,” he says, sliding the daycare’s sign-in clipboard toward himself. “how’s it going?”

“it’s good,” you reply, trying not to sound too nervous. “how about you?”

“can’t complain. layla’s been up since six, so she’s ready to burn off some energy.”

as if to prove his point, layla wags her tail so hard that her whole body shakes. you laugh, crouching down to give her a few pats. “she’s such a sweetheart.”

jake’s grin widens. “she likes you. that’s rare; she’s usually all about the dogs.”

it’s a small comment, but it sticks with you. there’s something about the way he says it, casual but warm, that makes your chest flutter.

after jake leaves, you’re busy with the usual daycare chaos—feeding schedules, playtime rotations, cleaning up after the more “exuberant” dogs. but layla’s easy. she gets along with everyone, her gentle nature making her a favorite among the other pups. you find yourself sneaking her extra belly rubs during breaks, thinking about her equally charming owner.

the days pass in a blur of wagging tails and barking dogs. jake becomes a familiar face, always polite and friendly, but never lingering too long. you start noticing little things about him: the way he always thanks you before leaving, the way he scratches layla’s ears like she’s the center of his world. it’s endearing, but you keep your distance. after all, he’s just another client.

one weekend, the daycare hosts a small "pup playdate" event for clients and their dogs. it’s meant to be a casual gathering with snacks, games, and plenty of room for the dogs to play. you’re busy setting up when jake arrives, layla trotting happily beside him.

“hey,” he says, balancing a tray of cupcakes. “i brought these. figured the humans might want snacks, too.”

“nice touch,” you reply, smiling. “you didn’t have to, though.”

“well, layla insisted,” he jokes. “and by insisted, i mean she stared at me while i baked.”

throughout the event, you notice how easily jake fits in. he chats with other dog owners, laughing as layla plays tug-of-war with a beagle while she is twice her size. at one point, he joins you by the snack table, where you’re refilling bowls of treats.

“this is really nice,” he says. “you guys put a lot of effort into it.”

“thanks,” you reply, brushing a stray strand of hair out of your face. “it’s fun seeing all the dogs together.”

“you’re good at this,” he adds, his voice warm. “the dogs love you. layla especially.”

his words catch you off guard, but before you can respond, a chorus of barking erupts as the dogs chase after a stray ball. jake laughs and jogs over to join the chaos, leaving you feeling oddly flustered.

a few days later, jake surprises you again. this time, it’s a rainy morning, and he’s soaked from head to toe when he walks in. “i forgot my umbrella,” he explains, shaking water off his jacket. “but layla needed her playtime.”

you grab him a towel, trying not to laugh. “here, dry off before you catch a cold.”

as you softly dry his hair, you notice how his usually neat appearance is a little disheveled. it’s strangely endearing, and you can’t help but offer him a cup of tea from the staff kitchen.

“you don’t have to,” he says, but you wave him off.

“consider it a thank-you for all those coffees you’ve brought me.”

the two of you sit by the window, watching the rain as layla happily plays in the indoor area. the conversation flows easily, moving from lighthearted topics to deeper ones. jake tells you about how he adopted layla during a tough time in his life, how she’s been his constant source of joy. you share stories about your journey to working at the daycare, your dreams of opening your own place someday.

these little moments start to add up. jake’s visits become a highlight of your day, and you find yourself looking forward to seeing him more than you’d like to admit. but it’s still just friendly… at least, that’s what you tell yourself.

one evening, as you’re locking up the daycare, jake’s car pulls into the parking lot. layla’s head pops out the window, barking happily when she sees you.

“hey,” jake says, stepping out of the car. “i know it’s late, but we were just at the park and thought we’d swing by.”

“lucky me,” you say, grinning. “what’s up?”

jake rubs the back of his neck, looking unusually neevous. “actually, i wanted to ask you something.”

“oh?”

he takes a deep breath. “i was wondering if you’d like to go out sometime. like, just us. no dogs.”

your heart skips a beat. “i’d like that,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady.

jake’s face breaks into the brightest smile you’ve ever seen. “great. how about this weekend?”

“it’s a date,” you reply, and layla barks as if in agreement. “c’mon in, i’ll give you a ride home”

“if you insist” you couldn’t hold back a smile.

you’ve always believed in the magic of dogs, but you never one to lead you to someone like jake.

turns out, paw paradise really is paradise after all.

[moonlitwitchdaisy]

a little note: hi i hope you enjoy reading this! but before that, i’d like to say a little something. i originally thought of shiu as just a boxer. then, after stumbling upon some ufc edits, i decided i wanted him to dive into mma as well. if you've read toji's headcanons, i wrote him as a boxer there, but since i changed my mind later, that stayed as is. anyway, i just wanted to share this! oh, btw up next is f1 untouchable king sukuna so be ready!!

.ᐟ more about shiu's sexy best friend nfl's dirty player!toji headcanons

.ᐟ check Champions League's Masterlist to meet the other champions

ufc’s bloody monster!shiu who, no matter how famous a boxer he was, transitioned to MMA over time due to his growing interest in mixed martial arts.

ufc’s bloody monster!shiu who transforms into a completely different person the moment he steps into the ring. Even those who know him can’t recognize who he becomes.

ufc’s bloody monster!shiu who earned the nickname “bloody monster” during one of his breakout matches. In this fight, a devastating liver shot followed by head kicks left the ring covered in blood.

ufc’s bloody monster!shiu who faced immense backlash from the media after the fight that earned him his nickname. Many believe some parts of the live broadcast were cut, and in those censored moments, he allegedly stomped on his opponent’s head, causing near-fatal injuries.

ufc’s bloody monster!shiu who loves the nickname because he enjoys looking deadly and believes no one can defeat him.

ufc’s bloody monster!shiu who has never lost a single fight.

ufc’s bloody monster!shiu whose best friend has always been NFL player Toji Fushiguro, but he also shares a decent friendship with F1 driver Sukuna. They first met as teenagers at an illegal boxing match. While Shiu won, Sukuna insists he would’ve taken the victory if he hadn’t been high before the fight.

ufc’s injured bloody monster!shiu who, for the first time, gets seriously injured after a fight (even though he wins) and has to take a break from competing. 

ufc’s injured bloody monster!shiu who refuses treatment because he hates UFC’s physiatrist.

ufc’s injured bloody monster!shiu who, at his trainer’s insistence, decides to see a physiatrist, thinking it won’t work anyway.

ufc’s injured bloody monster!shiu who meets you for the first time and greets you with, “I think you’re in the wrong place, doll face. You’d look better on a runway,” only to get slapped in the face. He’ll never admit it, but it stung.

ufc’s injured bloody monster!shiu who is impressed by your determination to heal him and your honesty, eventually agreeing to the treatment. His only condition is that you attend his physical therapy sessions in person.

ufc’s injured bloody monster!shiu who flashes a smug grin of victory when you agree to accompany him. Later, when he googles you at home, he discovers you’re the younger sister of his greatest rival. He wonders if life is playing a cruel joke on him. 

ufc’s injured bloody monster!shiu who loves spending time with Toji and his family. Megumi is like his own son. While he feels proud seeing Toji happy with his wife and son, deep down, he knows he’ll never have anything like that for himself.

ufc’s injured bloody monster!shiu who manages to irritate you during every second of his first physical therapy session. When you mutter, “Why did I even agree to this?” he smirks and says, “So I can kick your brother’s ass again.” The result? You kick his ass instead.

ufc’s injured bloody monster!shiu who ends up with a bruised ass for a week thanks to your kick. 

ufc’s injured bloody monster!shiu who insists on treating you to meals after every session. Even though you reject him every time, he knows you’ll say yes one day. 

ufc’s injured bloody monster!shiu who finds himself hanging out in your office outside of sessions, always bringing your favorite drink while waiting for you.

ufc’s injured bloody monster!shiu who, after getting your number, constantly sends you sexy poses and gifs from his fights. Though you threaten to block him, the fact that he isn’t blocked makes him think you secretly enjoy them.

ufc’s injured bloody monster!shiu who realizes he’s right when he catches you looking at his photos before a session. “Like what you see, doll face?” he teases, earning yet another ass kick.

ufc’s injured bloody monster!shiu who finds himself watching you during physiotherapy sessions because you are the only thing motivating him to heal. Yet, he knows all too well that once he recovers, he might never see you again.

ufc’s injured bloody monster!shiu who calls Toji one night to ask when he realized he was in love with his coach’s daughter, only to get a loud laugh in response.

ufc’s injured bloody monster!shiu who can’t wait to see you every day. He doesn’t care that you’re the sister of his rival; he just wants to talk to you and make sure you’re okay.

ufc’s injured bloody monster!shiu who, after countless rejections, is shocked when you finally smile and say, “Sure, I’d love to,” to his meal offer.

ufc’s injured bloody monster!shiu who takes you to your favorite restaurant after work that day and, for once, doesn’t end up getting hit.

ufc’s injured bloody monster!shiu who instantly checks his phone one night when he gets a sudden message notification from you. He sees you’ve sent a gif of his rival (your brother) along with the caption, “You’ll never beat him :)”. He simply replies, “There’s nothing I can’t beat.”

ufc’s injured bloody monster!shiu who knows the only thing he can’t beat is you. 

ufc’s injured bloody monster!shiu who invites you to Megumi’s birthday party, convinced you’ll say no, but when you reply, “I’ll be there!” he feels happiness like never before.

ufc’s injured bloody monster!shiu who is stunned at how quickly Megumi warms up to you. For the first time, he’s annoyed with the boy for stealing time with his woman. Of course, Toji and his wife notice and tease him about it.

ufc’s injured bloody monster!shiu who, after dropping you off at home after the birthday party, thanks you for the wonderful day. When he sees the way you look at him, as if you don’t want the day to end, he can’t hold back any longer and finds himself kissing you.

ufc’s injured bloody monster!shiu who wakes up the next morning with you in his arms, realizing this is how he wants to wake up every day.

ufc’s injured bloody monster!shiu who can’t sleep without you anymore, always insisting you stay over or vice versa. Eventually, it’s like you’ve moved into his place.

ufc’s injured bloody monster!shiu who knows your sessions and appointments are coming to an end but has no intention of ending things with you.

ufc’s injured bloody monster!shiu who, when he sees you crying, feels like his entire world comes to a halt. When you tell him that photos of you two kissing have leaked to the press, your brother has found out, and that everything needs to end, he realizes for the first time what it truly feels like to lose. He agrees to everything because he doesn’t want to ruin your relationship with your brother.

ufc’s bloody monster!shiu who recovers and returns to the ring only to find his next opponent is your brother. At first, he refuses to fight but has no other choice. His only hope is that you won’t watch, though he knows you will.

ufc’s bloody monster!shiu who, for the first time, feels nervous on fight day. When your brother steps into the ring and says, “I’m going to kill you, just so you know,” he responds, “The only one who can kill me is your sister.”

ufc’s bloody monster!shiu who gets distracted by seeing you ringside with his team during the first round, earning a hard punch from your brother that sends him to the ground. Even as he’s beaten, he smiles and says to you, “Hi, doll face. You look fucking hot and don’t worry, your brother doesn’t punch as hard as you do.”

ufc’s bloody monster!shiu who, for the first time in his life, loses a fight just for you. However, when you run to him afterward, your eyes red from crying, and throw yourself into his arms, kissing him without caring about the blood on his face, he realizes he’s already won the only match that ever mattered to him.

ufc’s not-so-bloody monster!boyfriend!shiu who still visits your office every day like he always did.

ufc’s not-so-bloody monster!boyfriend!shiu who, when he goes to ask your only family—your brother—for permission to marry you, receives nothing more than a pat on the back and the warning, “If you hurt her, consider yourself dead.” He already knows that if he ever hurt you, he’d be as good as dead to himself.

ufc’s not-so-bloody monster!husband!shiu who kisses you at the altar without waiting for permission and whispers, “Hi, Mrs. Kong.”

ufc’s not-so-bloody monster!husband!shiu who watches you get ready on your honeymoon and realizes yet again that agreeing to therapy was the best decision he ever made.

all rights belong to the @moonlitwitchdaisy do not copy, reproduce, or translate my work.

shiu kong art by @moonlessoul

divider by @diviniyae

[shatcey]

Mirror event (Victor)

Now it becomes clear why Vivi looks so much like hemself in this story. Because it wasn't a dream…

I look at this men standing next to each other, and think… I… belong there. Literally. Right there, between them. I've never felt like I belong to any place, perhaps because I really need to be there.

Okay...

And now Vivi's thoughts. As always, they made my brain explode a bit.

He was ready to kill her if something went wrong, because his children are at the top of his list of priorities (after the queen, of course), but… He still wants her to stay. I'm surprised… Is this a contradiction? Or does he just want to add another seed to his garden of children? Or… she is any different?

This… It's terribly sad. Does this mean that no one will ever want to take care of him? Maybe were afraid to do it? Didn't think of him as a person? It's become a painful topic for me lately… Could it be related to his abilities? Or his status? He is a man who stands firmly on his feet, who achieves a lot, who is the second person in the country. Maybe… No, I'm probably imagining…

Victor often talks about light and darkness. What if it's not just a metaphor… What if he really can see the color of the soul? He's a grim reaper after all. What would make so much sense… He can tell who deserves to die and who deserves to be saved. This makes him the same judge as William.

Sure… Victor drops such a bomb… I'm not even surprised. Bound… He's bound… trapped… restricted. Maybe he just phrased it that way, after all, they all have a grim fate. But… What if it's literal? What if… his fate not allow him to get to close to people? I don't like where this thought leads me to…

You're breaking my heart! Why??? What can't he do? Follow his desires? Or… being too close to someone? He doesn't allow himself to do this because he had some experience in the past… What was that? What happens to the other person? Why did he decide never to do it again? I have… so many questions.

No, don't you dare say that was the last time! I'm going to punch you, painfully….... on the shoulder. You look like a teddy bear, and I love hugs! You got the point, right?

Why is it in quotes? Who told you that? This person was lying! They can, and they will come true. Ally is proof of that. He didn't dream, but his dreams came true. Don't ask me how this is possible! It defies logic…

So… It was a very short story, but it managed to give me a headache. I'm… not surprised at all.

Now I'm curious to know what was in the other stories. I remember reading Ellis' story a year ago, and in the end he killed her. So… It was definitely a dream! If so… how can we read the story from his POV???

Don't tell me… Ally, don't let these guys exploit your abilities!!!! You are not a tool! I'll really going to punch Victor if that's the case.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

🔝 𝕊𝕋𝔸ℝ𝕋 ℙ𝔸𝔾𝔼 🔝

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[chrystal-ink]

Damn you

An enemies to lovers story

Shadow x GN Reader

Rating: Mature Minors do not interact

Chapter one: First Day

You arrived on the fourteenth floor, towing your supplies as the receptionist showed you to your office.

"All of our field agents get their own personal office's in order to have privacy when working on investigations, they are soundproof, bulletproof, and are the few rooms in this building without cameras in order to protect sensitive information. That being said all of your electronics will be monitored closely. Any potential treason will be immediately investigated. If you are looking at chao videos we can see it, if you are messaging your romantic partner we will read it, your privacy is a security threat you may have it at home but not here. Do you understand?"

"Yes mam" you replied

"good, now here is your office, and your key, do not lose it. get settled in, at ten you have a meeting with Director Sanders, the head of this department, and Commander Abraham Towers they will give you your first assignment as well as debrief you on how we operate here. Good luck Agent Y/N And welcome to GUN."

with that she left you alone in your office.

you unpacked your items organizing them to your preference. Taking a deep breath you took a small moment to celebrate, you were finally here after so many long years of training, fighting, and countless sleepless nights. A field agent you almost couldn't believe it, you hoped they were proud.

but you couldn't spend the whole day celebrating, there was a job to be done. and you needed your first assignment.

⚫

"You seem to have risen through the rankings at an impressive rate" Director Sanders started.

"Yes sir, I've Dedicated my entire adult life to this Organization and the protection of this planet"

"that's good to hear. I see your parents had a high rankings here as well. does that have anything to do with your decision to join us."

"I'd be lying if I said it didn't, my parents were my hero's. I want to follow in their footsteps."

"They were good soldiers." the Commander interjected. " I was sad to lose them, your mother was an excellent shot, one of the best in the agency. It was hard for a mobian soldier to gain respect back then, but your mother never stopped fighting for it. Much to everyone's surprise, save for your father's and mine, her shot improved after she gave birth to you and your sister. She was never one to back down from a challenge. I can tell you're the same way. Tell me How is Felicity?"

"She's doing well, smart as a whip too. She attends boarding school most of the year. but spends summers with me, I've arranged a nanny for when she visits so I have plenty of time for missions if I am needed."

"Good. speaking of missions, It's about time you received your first mission as a field agent. most of your missions will be given to you by Director Sanders, he is in charge of most field agent operations Any missions given by me immediately become top priority. You are new so you likely won't be given any high profile missions until after you have proven yourself to be proficient do you understand."

"Yes sir I do."

"Good, Now Our servers have picked up an energy signal from an abandoned water treatment facility possibly linked to the Chaos emeralds, your job is to go there find the source and report your findings back to us."

"Understood."

"There will be a helicopter to pick you up and take you to the drop off point, you will have three hours to find the source and get back to the rendezvous point. this facility has been abandoned for decades so you shouldn't run into any trouble, that being said you will be issued your standard G.U.N pistol and bullet proof vest. in case any inconveniences make themselves apparent, you are to deal with them quickly and to your discretion. You will have an hour to get ready before meeting your Helicopter at the launching pad, this should be enough time to collect your equipment and change into your mission gear. you are dismissed. and Y/N."

"Yes Commander."

"Good luck, I know you will make your parents proud."

"Thank You sir." with that you exited the room to get ready.

"Do you think we should have warned them about Shadow Commander?"

"No, as much of a loose cannon as he is, this signal shouldn't be strong enough to warrant a visit from him, besides this case is about as low profile as we can get, more of a maintenance call than anything, they should be fine."

⚫

you arrived at the facility taking out you scanner you began to search the area for the energy source.

the sounds of your steps echoed as you made your way through the dilapidated corridors. your flashlight reflected off employee safety signs that clung to the walls through rusted screws, vats once filled with untreated water lay dry, a musty scent filled the air.

your scanner gave off steady beeps as you got closer and closer to the source. you became more conscious of your movements the further you walked. the fur on the back of your neck began to stand as you entered what you assumed had to be the employee cafeteria.

your ears perked up as you heard a slight gust of wind behind you. instinctively you stepped aside just in time to doge a figure careening towards you.

the figure rerouted turning back around for another attack. you removed your gun from it's holster, before you could properly take aim the figure struck you knocking you to the floor. you held onto your gun with a death grip, you were not about to lose your only means of defense against an unknown enemy.

"What the hell do you think you're doing here?" the figure asked his voice deep and gruff.

he stepped into the light of your now abandoned flashlight allowing you to see him properly.

Crimson eyes glared at you, his black fur blended him into the darkness making him look as if he were apart of it, and his markings. red on his face, limbs, and quills that you could never forget, not even if you tried.

You recognized him alright.

Shadow The Hedgehog.

[thatonesonicfanfictionwriter]

Posting the oneshot separate because it's not showing up anywhere-

- - - - - - - - -

“A Well-Kept Secret.”

Pairing: Shadow x Transfem! Reader

Requested: Yes.

Description: When some of your old bullies move into your new home town, you struggle to keep you being a trans girl a secret out of fear that your new boyfriend, Shadow, won’t accept you.

Notes: Now–I am not a trans person myself, but I hope I do this request well regardless. [Name] will use She/They pronouns, and the dead name will be blurred out. Enjoy!

(TW: Swearing.)

(Not proof-read/beta-read.)

– – – – – – – – – – – –

You were happy as all could be. I mean, in your position, why wouldn’t you be?

You just got a new partner, the legendary Shadow the Hedgehog for crying out loud, and society had finally accepted you as a girl.

Or so you hoped.

While walking down the street, holding the hand of your partner, you heard that dreaded name again.

No - your dead name.

“Is that (######)?” A voice asked, causing your breath to hitch and your fur to poof up slightly, your hand unintentionally gripping onto your partner’s hand harder than you expected, causing him to become confused.

“Holy crap, it is (######)! I never thought he’d show his ugly mug near us again!” Another voice says, letting out a laugh.

“[Name]?” Shadow questions, looking at you, an eye ridge raised slightly in confusion. “Is everything alright?”

Coming out of your shock, you give him a small nod, muttering that they’re just your old bullies.

“Bullies?” Shadow questions.

You politely ask him not to push it. You just want to get the errands over and done with and get home.

“Alright…” Shadow says. He doesn’t say anything else, but his thumb rubs the back of your hand in a comforting manner, causing you to let off a small smile.

The rest of the day goes without issue, luckily, but you still feel tense.

Why were your old bullies here? Why did they remember you? How did they remember you? How long were they staying in your town?

Letting out a shaky sigh, you take a deep breath to calm yourself. You have a feeling Shadow wants to talk. After all, you and him promised to talk about any issues.

But you’re not ready to tell him you’re trans. Not yet.

What if he hates you for it? Breaks up with you due to it? Tells all of your friends and-

…

You force yourself to take another deep breath to ground yourself. Those are just old, bad memories resurfacing.

You’ll tell him when you’re ready.

A knock on your door cuts you out of your thoughts. You mention that the door is unlocked, and that he may come in.

The door opens to reveal Shadow, who closes the door behind him, crossing his arms as he usually does.

“So. Want to tell me what that was about?” Shadow questions.

You pat the spot next to you on the bed, and he comes over, sitting down next to you with his arms still crossed.

You mention that those mobians were bullies from your highschool year who bullied you for the way you dressed and acted. They bullied you for liking cute things and long dresses, to be more specific. He nodded slightly, taking it in.

“As for the name they called you?” Shadow asks.

You tell him it was a name they came up with purely to make you feel uncomfortable. Which wasn’t entirely untrue. You hated how masculine your old name was.

“I see. Well, thank you for being truthful about it,” Shadow says.

You nod, giving him a small smile. You admit you hope you don’t see them again. They gave you a lot of trouble.

The next day comes quickly, with you unfortunately catching a small cold, which Shadow offers to get you some cold medicine from the nearby store, to which you accept.

On his way there, Shadow spots one of your old bullies and grumbles to himself.

Walking a bit faster, the bully unfortunately starts walking near him, to which he steps away from them.

���Hey. You’re (######)’s boyfriend, right?” The bully asks.

Ignoring them, Shadow walks faster, the bully walking faster in return.

“You know you’re dating a guy, right?” The bully says with a smirk.

Shadow’s ear flicks but he says nothing.

“Yeah, all that “girl” shit he wears is fake. He’s just tricking you,” The bully states. “I’d get out and break up with him while you still can.”

“And what, date someone as pathetic as you? As if,” Shadow spats. “Now fuck off.”

The bully stops in their tracks and scoffs.

“Fine then! Have fun dating a fake girl, asshat!” The bully yells after him, causing Shadow to roll his eyes.

“(What do they know. [Name] would tell me about something like that.)” Shadow thinks to himself. “(And if she hasn’t, she’ll tell me when she’s ready.)”

After getting the cold medicine, Shadow teleports right home, seeing you fast asleep in your bed, tons of covers over your sleeping form. He lets out a small smile, setting the medicine on the bedside dresser, giving you a peck on the forehead.

“Get better soon, [Name].” Shadow mutters.

About a week has passed since that day, and you haven’t come out of your room since. Shadow has been getting worried.

Did he do something wrong? Are you mad at him? Did something happen?

He shakes his head. This is getting ridiculous. He’s talking to you and he’s doing it now.

Shadow knocks on the door to your room, only to hear your sad voice tell him to go away.

Hating to intrude on your privacy but being too worried, Shadow takes the spare room key from his quills and unlocks the door, opening it. He hears you tell him that you said to leave you alone, but he hears the sadness in your voice, choosing to push on.

Turning on the light, he sees a giant blanket mound on the bed, a figure clearly under it.

Shadow lets out a sigh and sits on the bed next to the blanket mound.

“[Name], you’ve been avoiding everyone all week,” Shadow mentions. “You know you can tell me what’s on your mind, right?”

You stay silent for a moment, a sniffle coming out of you.

You mumble something, causing Shadow’s ears to flick.

“Could you repeat that?” Shadow asks.

A full-on sob comes out of your throat and you come out of the blanket mound, hugging Shadow tightly while telling him that you’re sorry.

He’s quick to hug you back, rubbing your back to soothe you.

“Shh…Shh. You’re okay. I’m here,” Shadow says quietly.

After a few moments, you break the hug, a few stray tears on your face, to which Shadow wipes them away. You lean into his touch, staring at him with sad eyes.

The room is silent for a bit until you mutter out another “I'm sorry.”

“What are you sorry about?” Shadow asks.

You say you’re sorry for lying to him.

“About what?” He questions.

You tell him you’re not a “real girl.” You were born a male at birth. That “nickname” your bullies called you was your dead name.

You open your mouth to say something else, but Shadow cups your cheek, quickly kissing you on the lips, causing your eyes to widen but you quickly reciprocate. The kiss ends and Shadow looks you in the eyes, the only thing in there being love and adoration.

“Do you really think I care if you used to be a guy?” Shadow asks. “Of course I don’t. And just because you used to be one doesn’t make you any less of a real girl. I love you because of who you are now, not who you used to be.”

You give him a surprised face, a couple more tears, happy ones this time, coming out of your eyes, which Shadow kisses away, causing you to giggle.

You kiss Shadow again, it lasts for a bit longer than the last kiss, the kiss holding nothing but love and care.

Breaking the kiss, you thank Shadow for everything, telling him you love him as well.

“Of course. If the world chooses to fight you, then we’ll fight the world together,” Shadow states. “I’ll love you now, forever, and always.”

[therealmistressmidnight]

Disconnected Desires: The Struggle of Intimacy with ADHD

Intimacy is often painted as this magical, deeply connecting experience, but for someone with ADHD, it can feel anything but simple. One of the hardest things to explain is the constant battle between wanting to be present and the brain’s refusal to cooperate. It’s not that I don’t care or don’t want the connection—it’s that my mind seems determined to pull me away at the worst moments.

The Mental Struggle

Imagine this: you’re in a tender, intimate moment with your partner, and instead of melting into it, your brain starts throwing distractions at you like darts. Did I leave the stove on? Is that laundry still sitting in the washer? What am I even supposed to feel right now? It’s not just frustrating—it’s heartbreaking.

Sometimes, I can’t even pinpoint what pulls me out of the moment. It’s like my brain builds a wall between me and the connection I desperately want to feel. And the more I try to fight it, the stronger the disconnect becomes.

The Emotional Disconnect

The detachment isn’t just mental—it’s emotional, too. There are moments where I feel like I’m floating just outside my body, watching myself go through the motions. It’s not because I don’t love my partner or find them attractive. In fact, I feel the opposite—I want to connect so badly, but it’s like my emotions are on a delay.

Then there’s the shame. It’s so easy to spiral into guilt, wondering if my partner thinks I’m not invested or if they’re somehow to blame. That internal dialogue is a constant companion during these moments, which only makes it harder to pull myself back.

Sensory Overload

On top of everything else, there’s the issue of sensory overload. A light touch that should feel gentle might suddenly make my skin crawl. Background noises that should be easy to ignore become overwhelming. The heat of a hand on my body might feel suffocating instead of comforting.

It’s like my senses are on high alert, ready to pick apart every sensation until I can’t focus on anything but the discomfort. And once that happens, the intimacy is gone.

The Isolation of It All

What makes this struggle even harder is how isolating it feels. Intimacy is supposed to bring people closer, but ADHD often makes me feel like I’m on an island, completely disconnected from my partner.

It’s difficult to explain to someone who doesn’t experience it. How do you tell the person you love that you’re struggling to stay present when they’re being so vulnerable and open with you? How do you admit that, in the middle of such a tender moment, your brain is doing anything but cooperating?

When the Struggles Win

There are times when the struggle is too much, and I just want to give up. It’s exhausting to feel like I’m fighting my own mind every time I try to connect. And even though I know my partner is patient and understanding, it doesn’t stop the guilt from creeping in.

It’s not easy to talk about these struggles, and even harder to live with them. Intimacy should feel like a safe haven, but for someone with ADHD, it often feels like a battlefield.

For those reading this who share these struggles: you’re not alone. And for the partners trying to understand, know that it’s not about you—it’s about how ADHD shapes the way we experience the world, even in the most vulnerable moments.

[mobirights]

guys wake up rweoutofthewoods posted a new fic. no, like, WAKE UP. BPD REG I'M SO EXCITED NO ONE TALK TO ME.

october will cure me — chapter 1

Here you are, the BPD reg fic! I’ll probably update again tomorrow to get you all going since I have a few chaps done by now :)

I’m blaming who told me to double update, everyone take the content and enjoy it, that’s a threat!!

[babacontainsmultitudes]

RIP Will Campos the only person who was murdered this episode.

[toasted-valentine]

@pyrotechnicarus was right, that tv can fucking glow.

[sundial-bee-scribbles]

3, 6, 14, 15, and 20

uhhhhh i'll just do these 3 b/c i've been thinking abt them lately

3. have they died before? as it currently stands, spencer's dead dead yeah and not coming back, lucian is also dead (stuck as undead in his main timeline and while he might've suffered a less terrible death in other ones he still is probably dead in those). in aurelio's case they tried to execute him but it didn't work so i don't know if that counts as a death technically? don't know if he's completely immortal either but he survived the execution so that's gotta count for something lmaoo?

6. what's their greatest fear? aurelio's is loneliness and i think lucian's would be death; at the moment i can't think of one for spencer but? i suppose fearing consequences would be very fitting for him.

14&15. are they trans? / are they neurodivergent? up to interpretation.

20. will they recover from their trauma or will it consume them? i actually think, given enough time after the main story events, aurelio might, eventually. but the whole point of spencer & lucian's storylines is that, no they dont lol: i'd say their stories focus on the effects of not allowing yourself to move on from your trauma and fixating on it to the dangerous point of destroying everything around you and yourself (ESPECIALLY in lucian's). there is the small chance that maybe in one alternate timeline lucian does actually somewhat recover in some part, but for his main timeline nah

[wine-dark-soup]

hhh. need to resume following drawing lessons. if you know of good video tutorials covering the basics (FR/ENG) don't hesitate to drop their names in the replies

[capulated-canthea]

I just watched a tarot card reading and ALL of it resonated. I won at tarot

[pepperyduck]

a/n: drabble about satoru aging bc he would’ve been 35 today. not old but it’s enough to begin showing the signs of aging. i love him. not proofread!

satoru is going grey.

thirty-five years old, and he’d never, not once, thought he’d ever go grey—with the whole white hair thing, you know?

but those dreams are absolutely crushed as he looks in the mirror, getting ready for the birthday dinner you had planned for him. you walk into the same shared bathroom, catching your husband’s downright agonized stare in the glass.

“babe, we’re going to be late. can you put on your tie please—.”

“not right now,” he interrupts, all too dramatically, “i’m having a crisis.”

“what? what’s wrong?” your voice is filled with worry, pacing towards your husband to turn him towards you.

satoru looks back in the mirror and parts his hair in one specific way, then turns back and leans down to push his scalp right in your face. eyebrows tweaking, you stare at his pale hair trying to find a trace of blood or something—but you don’t see anything.

“what are you talking about?”

“i’m getting old!”

“what? you just turned 35 today, what are you—,”

“i’m going grey! i’m getting old!” he whines, throwing his hands up and leaning back away from you. pursing your lips in frustration, you stare at your husband in the mirror disappointedly.

but then, you see it. one tiny, barely darker than pure white, grey hair poking out of satoru’s locks. and that’s not the only thing that shows his signs of aging. he’s got small crow’s feet forming from all his laughter and grins over the years. smile lines, too. tiny wrinkles litter his face all over from his many expressions he always does, the repetitive motions finally starting to show on his skin.

he’s become just a tiny bit forgetful, and his hearing has diminished just the littlest pinch. he has reading glasses because his perfect blue eyes finally gave into the years and he sees less than 20/20. satoru gets backaches now, he groans loudly when he sits down or stands up.

satoru’s aged, of course. he is still the most beautiful person in the world to you. the signs of his age showing are nothing less than endearing, they are signs of all the happiness and joy and experiences he’s had. even at his not actually old age, he is beautiful.

but you have a dinner to attend.

you pluck the hair right out of his head, a stinging pain coming to the root of satoru’s scalp for just a second.

“ow! what the hell? i wanted to keep that!”

“shut up and put your tie on, old man.”

[phagodyke]

iwtv is rly getting to me 😭 I feel sooo bad for claudia no one tell me anything bc idk the book lore + I dont want spoilers but istg she's gonna kill herself in that theatre fire...

[vanweezer]